Free Celeste Bradley - [The Liar's Club 02] by The Impostor Page A

herself within.
    She’d oiled the hinges herself long ago, for she’d never wanted to alert any wandering servants to her presence in the attic when no one was supposed to be up there. When she slowly lowered the lid, not a squeak came from the old forged iron, not even when the lid settled home.
    Clara curled up on the old blanket, which was clean if a bit mousy smelling. She was rather small and the trunk was rather large. All in all, she was quite comfortable. She’d no fear of small places. On the contrary, she rather liked them. Heights now, that was another matter.
    She cocked her ears to the outside world, but not a sound made it through the thick wood. Had the man left—passed through the attic on the way into the house? Had he gone back through the window?
    Then the lid creaked just above her ear and she started violently. He was opening the trunk!
    Instinctively, she shut her eyes and shrank down, waiting to be dragged from her hiding place by hard hands. Nothing happened. The trunk remained closed. She heard a faint grating sound as if someone was idly shuffling their feet on the dusty floor of the attic. The lid creaked again above her head.
    Was he
sitting
on her? Hysteria began to bubble up within her. Did he require a rest after his strenuous evening of breaking and entering? Even mad intruders needed to relax, apparently!
    There came a very polite knock on the lid of the trunk. “Oy, there! Anybody ‘ome?” The voice was deep and not terribly loud, for all that it vibrated right through the heavy wood.
    Did he truly expect her to answer?
Oh, yes, kind sir, do come in
. She held her breath for fear of him hearing her, then realized how absurd she was being. He obviously knew she was inside and was simply toying with her.
    Even as these thoughts were skittering through her mind, another part of her was becoming very aware of the closeness of the air. Every breath she took was becoming more labored. She’d not thought the trunk might be airtight!
    She must get out. Listening carefully, she heard nothing from above her. Perhaps he was already gone. Then a sound reached her. A tuneless humming, an idle sort of sound.
    Drat. He was most definitely still there and he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Time ticked slowly on and the air in the trunk became heavier and less satisfying. She tried her mightiest to wait the invader out, but finally she could not deny that shortly she would be in certain danger of suffocation. Could the alternative be any worse?
    In a resentful panic, she rapped sharply on the lid.
    “Yes?” came that deep voice.
    Her lungs were beginning to burn and her head was swimming. In panicked anger, she slammed the side of her fist against the lid. “Oh, just get off, you great bugger!”
    The deep chuckle barely reached her consciousness as her mind began to buzz unpleasantly. Then the lid no longer resisted her efforts and the air became blessedly clear.
    Breathing deeply, she blinked, her eyes straining inthe darkness. Where was he? Fighting the last of her dizziness, she rose to a crouch and looked about her. Where had he gone?
    Then she saw motion in front of the window again and realized he’d retreated to his former position. Still, she had the feeling that he could see her every bit as well as she could see him.
    Giving up entirely on stealth, she clambered noisily from the trunk. After all, if he’d wanted her dead, he’d only have needed to leave her in the dangerous position in which she’d put herself.
    She stood and straightened her skirts with a swish, in no mood to be toyed with further. “‘Twas a dirty trick,” she hissed at the shadow. “You nearly done me in!”
    The man didn’t move. “I’ll not harm you, girl.”
    She flinched at his voice, though it was warm and even, and he made no move toward her. Clara realized that she had never heard a masculine voice in this attic, never known the way it could rebound from the slanting walls and low ceiling until he