Free Corey McFadden by Deception at Midnight Page B

towel completely and there was no sign of her bosom.
    She glanced at her old riding habit crumbled in a heap on the floor, then grabbed it and made for her wardrobe. Carefully, she hung it up so the torn side of the bodice did not show. Let them assume for a while that she was merely in the house or about the grounds hiding, not that she had fled frantically into the night.
    Maude pulled on her boots, then stood up to admire her handiwork in the mirror. With a gasp, she reached up to her head. Maude wore her hair long, not because she knew it to be her crowning glory, but because her papa had loved her carrot curls and had groused every time Mama had had them trimmed. What could she do with so much hair? Cut it, obviously.
    With a snarl to herself that she would pay John back for this, too, she ran for her sewing box and pulled out her large cutting shears. She made quick work of it, hacking off curl after curl a few inches from her head. She stood for a moment aghast at the reflection that stared back at her. She looked like a freak, like a—boy!
    Swiftly, she swept the hair into a long tail, then rolled it into a knot. She grabbed an old shawl from her drawer and bundled the hair into it, stuffing the bundle into the back of her breeches. Let them look for a young lady!
    Maude rummaged in the back of her drawer for the small enamel box where she kept her pin money, a few shillings, not enough to do much with. Still, she might need to purchase a meat pie or two along the way and a few shillings were better than nothing. She wadded the coins into a handkerchief and stuffed it into the pocket of her breeches. A quick look around told her that everything appeared to be in order, no sign of disarray to hint at her flight. She would need as much of a head start as she could get.
    Now for one last run of the gauntlet. Her ear against the door, Maude heard nothing. She knew rationally that a mere ten minutes, maybe less, had passed since she’d brained John with the decanter, yet it seemed like forever. If he were alert and functioning now, she’d not leave the house alive, not after what she’d done to him.
    Again, she made a quiet sweep at the bolt and cracked her door. The hallway was dark and vacant. Good! Let him stay in a stupor for the rest of eternity. Quickly, she descended the stairs, pausing at the bottom. All was still, not a sound or movement. She ran for the kitchen; she would leave by the small back door. Pausing only to grab Joe’s old cap from the peg by the door, Maude stepped out into the cold, rainy dark.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Blast the rain! Blast the dratted ruts in the road! And most of all, blast the now former groom who had carelessly lamed his favorite horse this morning and had delayed his return to London until now. He should have been in the city several hours ago. The earl’s carriage, expensive and well-sprung, nevertheless bounced mercilessly on the slippery and pitted road, a sea of icy mud hiding the ruts.
    “We’ll have to make better time than this, Hobbs!” shouted Radford, leaning from the carriage, oblivious to the sleet and rain driving in his face. He could see Miller’s Bridge up ahead and knew they had traveled only a few miles.
    “Can’t do no better, m’lord. Not without risk to the ’orses!” Hobbs shouted back, his voice almost drowned by the competing din of rain, horses’ hooves, and creaking carriage.
    Blast everything! Of course, Hobbs was right. It would be foolish to let a card party, albeit a curiously important one, lame yet another horse. Normally, being late would not matter, but tonight the match was against the Duke of Sommesby, and later in the evening, of course, there was a planned rendezvous with the lovely Bella D’Amico.
    Radford snapped open his pocket watch, but could not make out the time on the dial in the darkness. He snapped it shut impatiently. Well, it had been eight-thirty when they had managed to get away after consultation with the head