Free Betrayals by Sharon Green Page A

wasting my physical strength.
    The creeping did prove itself useful, though. I’d decided against using the front door unless I absolutely had to, so I was in the midst of searching for a side door when I came across two servants. They sat in a small room drinking tea, looking completely bored as they waited for something. The bell arrangements on the far wall suggested what they were waiting for: a summons from the lord of the house, I tiptoed past the partially open door and then hurried my search, not knowing whether they were simply on duty for the entire night—or awaiting a definite summons. If Lanir was expected to ring for them, how long would it be before they went to investigate his continued silence …?
    It was a lucky thing that I found the door I sought just around the next curve of that dimly lit back hall. If I hadn’t I would have certainly retraced my steps to the front door, taking the chance that there would be a servant on duty near it. I’d heard that people with really big houses had servants assigned to front-door duty at night as well as during the day, just in case an emergency of some sort arose. I now needed more than ever to be out of that house, and the thought of being stopped brought me close to losing control.
    The small side door had both a slide bolt and a key lock, making me glad that I’d taken Lanir’s keys. It took much too long to get the door open—almost a full minute—but I still forced myself to take the time to relock it once I stood outside. If Lanir was discovered before I left the grounds, the search for me might be confined to the house if all doors were found to be still locked.
    That line of logic wasn’t a very strong one, but I clung to the hope of it as I made my way along the footpath which led away from that side door. It was very dark out and rather chilly in the lacy gown I still wore, but a bit of moonlight was available to help me move carefully along the footpath. Happily no one had added gravel to make it look better— and be more treacherous and noisy, footing-wise—but I still couldn’t move as fast as I wanted to. Falling and twisting an ankle—or worse—would have been the end of everything, so I simply had to go rather slowly. Leaving the vicinity of the house didn’t bring me that much closer to a main road or street. The footpath paralleled a long drive ranging off into the darkness, a drive which seemed to go on forever. I trudged along the footpath, wishing I could walk the hard-packed earth of the drive instead, but that would have made me much too visible. Being in that gown was bad enough, considering the tiny sequins sewn all over both the skirt and bodice. If lamps were brought close the sequins would certainly gleam the way they were meant to do, making me completely visible. I needed to be able to hide behind a large tree, and trees were closer to the footpath than to the drive. Walking along like that gave me far too much time to think, as the thought uppermost in my mind was how far I would have to go before I would be able to find a coach or carriage. Many public stables had carriages for hire, but how many of them would be open at that time of night? And when I finally did reach the main road, which way should I go? Turning right when the proper direction was left could have me walking for the rest of the night without finding what I needed—
    I stopped dead as my latest glance up from watching where I put my feet showed me something other than empty woods. A large, dark shadow stood about thirty feet ahead, motionless at the side of the drive. The outline of the shadow suggested that it was a coach, and once I’d noticed that I could also hear the faint jingle of horses in harness. I’d been wishing rather fervently for a coach, but not for a moment did I believe that some beneficial superbeing had heard my wish and granted it.
    Fear tried to wrap its hands around my throat and middle, but anger rose too swiftly to let that