Free Corey McFadden by Deception at Midnight Page A

you! Well, she’d be damned if she’d sit here like a ninny and wait for Cousin John to come and finish the job.
    She listened carefully. All was quiet. Still, he would not necessarily make any noise if he were creeping up the stairs. No! She would not consider that either, she thought, shivering nonetheless, and quickly glancing at the bolt on the door. I can slip away now and make my way toward London.... She stared ruefully at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was scratched and bleeding; her dress hung in crazed remnants. Not like this! The carriage was gone, and with it both of Romney Manor’s remaining horses. She would go on foot in the rain and mud or she would not go at all. And worst of all, she had almost no money, just a few shillings.
    She would go dressed as a boy! Joe, to be precise, a servant boy on an errand. A female unescorted of any class would be prey to the ruffians who prowled the roads. A boy of obvious poverty would attract little attention other than derision. Now that Joe served as valet to Uncle James and John, he slept in a small chamber in the attic. He had changed out of his stable attire to drive the master and missus out this evening. Surely she could find his clothes? She would have to leave her room for a few minutes, and she breathed a quick prayer that John had not yet come to.
    Maude listened at the door. The house was still silent. As quietly as she could, she slid back the bolt, then eased the door open. A quick look told her that the hall was empty. She slipped out, shutting the door behind her, and made her way in the dark to the rear stairs. The stairs were well-nailed and oiled, and for once, Maude had reason to be thankful for her aunt’s complaining about housekeeping details. Claire hated being awakened by the sound of the servants creeping down the stairs early in the morning or up late at night.
    Maude slipped into Joe’s room and shut the door. As a servant he had no lock, of course. She stared around for a moment, wondering where he kept his clothes. With a rueful grin, she realized that everything the young man owned was probably right there in front of her nose. He had no closet or wardrobe, only pegs on the wall. There was a small selection, and Maude knew from the meager grouping that anything she took would be sorely missed. Well, it was for a good cause and Joe would not begrudge her a few items. With luck, he would hold his tongue about the missing clothes, once he had a glimmer of what had happened. She would have the solicitors purchase a new outfit for him as soon as this sorry mess was set to rights.
    Quickly, she picked a shirt and breeches from the pegs; they were the ones he wore for his work out of doors, none too clean and rather worn, but originally of good quality and certainly serviceable. Boots, she did not need, for she had her own worn-out riding boots, perfect for a servant. She snatched at a jacket, thankful that being one of John’s old coats, it was of good quality and thickness. Again, she heard no sound as she inched open the door and crept out and down the stairs.
    Gaining the safety of her room, Maude again shot the bolt, then leaned against the door. She shook all over. She had not been aware of being frightened until now. Well, she was almost ready to leave. She quickly tended to the minor cuts on her face and hands, then stripped off her torn riding habit and donned Joe’s clothes. The problem was apparent immediately. While no one could consider her voluptuous, she certainly was not built like a boy and the small, but protruding, bosom was unmistakable in the white shirt. This would be worse than traveling as a female, far more revealing than her usual laces and coverings.
    She glanced wildly around the room and her eyes lit on a towel hanging by her washstand. A moment later she had fastened the towel tightly around her chest, binding her breasts and giving more girth to her middle. The shirt, fastened almost to the neck, hid the