Free Always a Temptress by Eileen Dreyer Page A

casting an anxious look out the window.
    He waved off in the direction of the dark woods. “Mr. Finney,” he said. “Coupla stable hands ’n that cook o’ yers. Wouldn’t be left be’ind. Says ’e can be right nasty wit’ a cleaver.”
    Kate almost laughed out loud. Her butler, her grooms, and her chef, all armed and waiting to help rescue her. She thought she might weep.
    “What about Lady Bea?” she asked, helping Thrasher tie the rope to the bed leg.
    “Bob Coachman took ’er back to Lunnun to wait.”
    For the first time since being tossed into the coach, Kate breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank heavens. She really is all right?”
    The boy grinned, all teeth and big brown eyes. “Mad as a wet ’en. Ready to grab a fryin’ pan ’erself. Mr. Finney’s the one as eased ’er. Said as ’ow she’d need to be in Lunnon to give out you was sick in bed so’s nobody’d know you was nabbed.”
    Kate nodded, glad. It was the only argument she could think of that would keep Bea from running headlong into danger for her. Finney was about to get a big raise.
    Thrasher tiptoed to the window and threw the rest of the rope over the sill. “’Oo was it took ya, Y’r ’Onorableness?”
    “That’s a long story, Thrasher. We’ll talk about it when we get home.”
    He gave the rope an experimental tug. The heavy old bed didn’t budge. “Vines is good climbin’ vines. ’Ang on to the rope jus’ in case.”
    She nodded. “You first.”
    His sharp-featured face folded into a fierce frown. “Don’t be daft.”
    “I won’t go down unless you’re already on the ground, Thrasher. And if I’m caught, I want you to run, do you hear me? You have to get back to the rest of the staff.”
    He took a quick assessing look out the window. “Only ’cause then we can come get ya again.”
    And without further ado, he swung himself over the sill and disappeared. Left behind in the room, Kate took a moment to steady her heart. She wasn’t afraid of the climb. She had climbed down many a vine in her day. She was afraid for her friends. If Harry caught them, God knew what he might do.
    She took her own look outside to see Thrasher already halfway down the house. At least the windows were dark. Evidently the house slept on. Taking a deep breath, she threw her leg over the ledge.
    The descent seemed longer than three stories. By the time she reached the ground, her knees were trembling and her fingers aching. She took no time to recover, though. The minute her feet touched the soft flower bed, she ran after Thrasher.
    She made it no more than fifteen feet before she heard the footsteps behind her. She ran faster. She could see Thrasher disappear into the trees. She pulled up her skirts to lengthen her stride. Something slammed into her and shoved her straight to the ground. She knew who it was even before he spoke.
    “I probably should have told you,” Harry murmured in her ear. “I don’t sleep.”

C hapter 4
    H arry felt as if he’d fallen on knives instead of Kate’s soft body, his ribs setting up a grating screech. He wasn’t about to let her know, though. She would take advantage, sure as check.
    “Sadly predictable,” he said, trying his best to sound as if he could breathe past the stabbing pain in his chest. “I expected better from you.”
    Stretched out along her back, he grabbed her splayed hands and held on, fully expecting a fight. When she didn’t immediately move, he took a second in the whispering darkness to assess the situation. Kate had climbed down the east wall and headed for the woods at the far end of the lawn. He could only be thankful he’d heard her, since he’d had to run all the way across the front of the abbey and turn the corner to even see her.
    A movement at the tree line caught his eye. Her young accomplice, no doubt. The little blighter had a fast pair of feet. It didn’t matter. Harry knew who he was. He’d seen the little urchin riding the back of Kate’s