How to Climb a Lady’s Tower

by Wolf, Bree

  Gritting his teeth, Zach froze, listening, ready to jump out the window at a moment’s notice and flee across the roof.

  All remained quiet.

  Still, Zach waited and listened, uncertain whether or not to trust his luck. After a minute, he finally inhaled a deep breath, his eyes gliding over the chamber. He began to rummage through all cabinets and drawers he could find, hesitant to leave the nearness of his only escape route.

  Then he quietly opened the door leading out into the corridor.

  Again, nothing and no one could be seen, the eerie silence that lay over the fortress seemingly undisturbed.

  And so Zach stepped out into the corridor and proceeded down the way he had first come. He opened door after door, carefully peeking inside before stepping across the threshold. His hands flew over armoires and searched drawers, opened cabinet doors and trunks in corners. In the dark, he could only afford a cursory look. He encountered no jewelry on his search. In fact, every chamber he came across appeared rather uninhabited.

  Slowly, he retraced his steps, which led him back to the room where he’d begun, the room that sat halfway along the long corridor. He was about to step past, to begin searching the rooms on the other side when something reached his ears.

  Zach froze. He couldn’t even say what it was he’d heard, his instincts though told him that he was no longer alone. That something or someone had stirred on the other side of the wall.

  Or had it only been his imagination running wild after his earlier clumsiness?

  Glancing down at the dagger at his belt, Zach prayed that he would not find a reason to use it. After all, as the trespasser, he was the one in the wrong. How could he fault someone for defending their home? He drew in a deep breath and assured himself that the black mask he’d worn to all of these nightly undertakings was in place.

  Then he stepped forward and quietly opened the door.

  Zach almost held his breath as the gap slowly broadened, his eyes striving to see through the dark, noting the faint silvery shimmer from the window as it reached inside the stone walls. And then he saw them.

  A man and a woman.

  While the young woman wore nothing but a nightgown, her hands clutching the man’s left arm, her husband – Zach presumed – wore a pair of simple breeches and a plain shirt, his dark hair unkempt and a thick beard hiding the lower half of his face. In the dim light of the room, Zach saw a long scar snake its way across the man’s right cheek, lending him an air of danger and unpredictability.

  Still, the way they clung to one another, the way he held her behind him, shielding her with his body spoke of a deep connection, and Zach felt like the worst person in the world for disturbing their sleep.

  Then he took note of the gleaming dagger in the man’s hand and, on instinct, his own reached down to his belt, leveling the playing field by drawing his own.

  “Who are you?” the man growled. “Why are you here?”

  Knowing that he could not allow this to end in a physical confrontation, Zach shrugged and then re-sheathed his dagger. “I’m afraid I cannot divulge who I am,” he said, taking a gamble, hoping that if he proved that he wasn’t a threat, the situation would not get out of hand. After all, the bearded man stood between Zach and his way out. “However, I could do with your assistance.”

  “My assistance?” the man demanded, a touch of incredulity in his voice as he stared at Zach, his dark gaze narrowed, watchful, filled with suspicion. “Are you alone?”

  Forcing himself to ignore the unease he felt, Zach glanced over his shoulder. “So it would seem,” he said lightly, surprised at the touch of humor in his voice. “I don’t suppose you would consider lowering your dagger?”

  “Does that surprise you?” the man demanded. Still, the tension in his shoulders seemed to lessen a little. “After all, you broke into my home. Can you blame me for considering that a hostile act?”

  Zach chuckled, wondering what he would have done had their roles been reversed. “Admittedly, this looks…hostile as you said. I assure you I mean you no harm.” Indeed, despite the unusualness of this situation, Zach could not deny that finally after all these moments of frustration he’d endured in the past few weeks, this one right here and now felt strangely freeing. With the mask hiding his identity, he could speak his mind and…oddly enough, be himself.

  “Then why are you here?”

  Oh, where to begin! “I’m searching for something,” Zach admitted, wondering if this would prove to be a mistake. Just like talking to Mortimer’s heir had been a mistake! Was there not a single honest person to be found among the ton? Of course, he himself wasn’t the embodiment of honesty at the moment, either! He chuckled, shaking his head. “However, considering the size of your home, it might take me forever to locate it…if indeed it is here.” In all likelihood, he was bothering these people for no reason at all!

  Zach could not deny that the couple struck him as unusual compared to the snobbish, self-centered harpies so commonly found among English society. The woman, in particular, had a gentle softness to her features that oddly reminded him of something or rather someone as though he’d seen her before. She looked familiar, and yet, he was certain he had never laid eyes on her prior to this evening.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked, curiosity in the way she moved forward, her gaze sweeping over him.

  Instantly, her husband pulled her back behind him, his instincts to protect her not allowing him to drop his guard. “Stay behind me.”

  Holding up his hands, his dagger only held pressed to his palm by his right thumb, Zach met the man’s gaze, his own sobering. “I swear I will not harm your lady…or you.” Indeed, what would he have done if anyone had threatened his own family? His brother? Or…? Oddly enough, an image of Miss Hawkins flashed before his eyes. Only for a second, but as clear and bright as day. “You have my word. I’ve never harmed another soul, nor shall I ever. I’m simply trying to retrieve something that…was taken from me.”

  Again, the young woman moved forward, one arm looped through her husband’s while the other hand rested protectively on her swollen belly and the child within. “Are you from America?”

  Zach laughed. “Can’t hide that, can I?”

  A small smile played on her lips and, once again, Zach felt the odd sensation that he knew her…somehow. “I’m afraid not,” she told him before her gaze swept over the mess he’d made of her sitting room. “What was taken from you? I suppose it must be something small as you’ve rummaged through my cabinets.”

  Mortification swelled in his chest, and Zach wondered why it bothered him so that he had invaded her privacy. In a strange way, it felt as though he had acted against someone he was meant to protect. “I apologize, my lady. I’m looking for an heirloom, a ring.” He drew in a deep breath at the thought of his brother’s pain. “It…holds sentimental value for me.” He could only hope she would not press him further.

  “Why would you look for it here?” the man Zach presumed to be a member of Florian Brooks’ family demanded, clearly displeased to see an intruder conversing with his wife.

  Zach tensed as anger and regret returned at the thought of Lord Mortimer’s callous dealings. Indeed, if that man weren’t dead… “It was taken by a Lord Mortimer,” Zach finally said, knowing that the man and his wife deserved an answer, “who later lost it in a card game. As far as I’ve been able to deduce,” there was no need in mentioning that he’d had help, “six men were present that night. Unfortunately, I’ve been unable to find out which of them won it.” A sigh of epic proportions left his lips, and Zach felt suddenly weary. “It’s been a bit of a wild goose chase.”

  “Still,” the other man demanded, a deep frown coming to his face, “why would you look for it here? I’ve heard of a Lord Mortimer, but never made his acquaintance, let alone played cards with the man. I’m afraid your information is inaccurate,” his gaze grew suspicious, “if that is indeed the true reason for your presence here tonight.”

&nb
sp; Zach chuckled, hoping it would lighten the mood. “Not you, my lord. Your brother, Florian Brooks.” At least, Zach assumed that the man in front of him and Florian Brooks were brothers. “I was told he had been there that night.”

  As though struck, the man tensed, and Zach knew that what he had just said – as simple and insignificant as it seemed to him – held a deeper, almost painful meaning for the bearded man with the deep scar marking his features. Zach’s assessment was proved right as he watched the man’s wife move closer, her hand reaching for his, squeezing it gently in reassurance, in comfort.

  Indeed, the bond between them was strong, and Zach felt his heart grow lighter at the thought that he had at last stumbled upon a deeply committed marriage, one built on loyalty and trust, love and utter devotion. It reminded him of his own parents, the ideal he and Nate had always strove to find for themselves. If only Nate had not been misled!

  Shaking off the sudden yearning that had gripped a hold of his heart and mind, Zach blinked, clearing his vision. “I could sketch it for you,” he offered and stepped toward the small writing desk in the corner, hoping to distract the man from his desolate thoughts. He set down his dagger and picked up the quill, quickly sketching the ring he’d seen countless times on his mother’s finger. “It’s an emerald. It’s not worth all that much, but to me…it is priceless.” Finishing his sketch, he turned and held the parchment out to them, hoping against hope that his search would end that night.

  The looks on their faces did not speak of recognition.

  “I’m afraid it does not look familiar,” the man confirmed Zach’s conclusion, his own gaze narrowing as he watched him. “That card game, did it happen more than eight years ago?”

  Zach frowned, confused by the man’s question as well as the look on his face. “No.”

  “Then it couldn’t have been my brother.”

  “Why?”

  The bearded man swallowed. “Because he’s been dead for eight years. Ask around. Anyone will tell you. I’m afraid your endeavor here tonight was a waste of time.” Although Zach did not want to believe what he had been told, this information explained the man’s earlier reaction to hearing his brother’s name. Still, disappointment hit him hard!

  And yet…

  Florian Brooks was dead? Like Lord Mortimer as well as Lord Cavendish. Granted, Zach had not looked beyond the surface of the names Markham had provided. He’d merely sought to locate their residences, not thinking it necessary to look into their family histories. Was it odd that two of the names on his list had passed away? While not recently in Florian Brooks’ case, Lord Cavendish had inherited his father’s title about a year ago. Was this of significance somehow?

  Sighing, Zach met the man’s gaze once more. “Then I apologize for the intrusion, my lord, my lady.” He nodded to them, wondering if they would simply allow him to leave. It was worth a try at least. “I bid you a good n—”

  Footsteps suddenly echoed through the stillness of the night and, in that moment, time seemed to come to a standstill.

  As Zach stared at the couple across from him, he listened to the slow, soft footfalls approaching from down the hall. Soon, whoever was headed their way would be upon them, trapping Zach from two sides. He needed to act fast, use this interference as a distraction to dash across the room and reach his means of escape.

  A faint glow of light appeared behind Zach and he sensed another coming to stand in the open doorway, no doubt a candle in their hand.

  Not waiting, Zach lunged forward the moment a faint word left the newcomer’s lips. The voice sounded soft and melodious, that of a woman. Still, Zach did not bother to look for he could see in the bearded man’s eyes that he would not simply allow him to make his escape. No, he would try and detain him, and so Zach used what he had gleaned that night to his advantage.

  The sketch dropped from his hands as he threw himself forward, aiming left, closer to where the young woman stood instead of approaching her husband. As expected, the bearded man’s eyes went wide and his hands seized her, drawing her aside and out of Zach’s path. Using the opportunity presented to him, he crossed the chamber in large strides, hands reaching for the rope he’d left behind for precisely such a moment.

  Behind him, he heard mumbled sounds as well as a gasp of surprise, but Zach did not look until he’d pulled himself up onto the windowsill. Only then did he turn, his feet moving backward, then bracing themselves against the stone wall while his hands held on to the rope.

  Relief and excitement swept through him, and he couldn’t help but grin, tipping his nonexistent hat in a farewell gesture. “I apologize for the intrusion, my lady.”

  And then he saw her.

  Here, of all places.

  Miss Hawkins.

  Her auburn hair glowed in the dim light from the candle as she rushed forward, her hands reaching for the dark-haired young woman. Concern rested in her eyes and even though they were shrouded in darkness, Zach remembered well the dark green spark he’d seen in them more than once. Sometimes, he even saw it when he closed his eyes, remembering the teasing smile curling up her lips. Now, she was not smiling, but her face was flushed and she moved with determination, with strength, her gaze wide and unflinching. “What is going on here?” The words flew from her lips. “Genie, are you all right?” Her gaze rose…and then collided with his. “Who is that?”

  For a split second, Zach forgot where he was, all but drowning in those eyes that seemed to see behind his mask. Then he blinked as the bearded lord came rushing toward him. Zach knew he could not remain a second longer…even though a deep, rather unsettling part of him wished he did not have to leave.

  Tightening his hold, Zach pulled himself upward, his feet against the rough stone wall. He cast one last glance at Miss Hawkins, her wild curls loose and dancing down far beyond her shoulders as the shawl slipped lower, her hands otherwise occupied, her arms wrapped protectively around the dark-haired woman, Genie.

  And then she vanished from sight as he scaled the wall, pulling himself ever higher toward safety when the bearded man appeared below him, his eyes hard as he stared up at Zach. Then he vanished back inside, and Zach knew he needed to hurry for the man did not strike him as one who would easily give up. No doubt, he was in pursuit right now!

  There was no time to lose, and yet, Zach found that he could not for the life of him wipe that smug smile off his face that had claimed his features so completely when his gaze had fallen upon Miss Hawkins.

  An unusual woman, indeed!

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Thought of a Man

  Rebecca’s heart was beating wildly against her ribcage as she stared after the masked intruder. There had been something in his eyes that had reached deep inside her; her stomach flipped and her skin tingled and…

  “Who was that man, Genie?” Rebecca asked, almost breathless as her friend sank into one of the upholstered armchairs by the hearth. Her hands were trembling, and her heart seemed utterly reluctant to slow down.

  “I cannot say,” Eugenie told her, her face pale and fatigue clinging to her features. “Would you mind closing the window? It’s getting to be a bit chilled in here.”

  Rebecca knew she ought to be concerned for her friend – and she was! – however, as she moved to do as she was bid, her thoughts swirled around something entirely different. Something she fought to restrain for as long as she could. Back at Eugenie’s side, she could no longer contain the excitement that bubbled in her veins. “But what was he doing here? You cannot tell me you know nothing of what happened here tonight.”

  Eugenie gave her one of those looks, and Rebecca tried her best not to appear too eager. “He said he was looking for an heirloom,” her friend finally told her. “A ring.” Pulling the shawl from the backrest of her chair and draping it around her shoulders, Eugenie nodded to the side at something lying on the floor.

  Unable to keep still, Rebecca all but pounced on it, her hands greedily reaching for the parchment. Indeed, it was th
e sketch of a ring, simple and yet elegant. Beautiful. “Why did he think it was here? He didn’t find it, did he?” If he hadn’t, would he come back?

  A little reluctantly, Eugenie told her of the short conversation that had followed their discovery of an intruder in their home and with each word to leave her friend’s lips, Rebecca felt new shivers of excitement crawl over her skin. She could not remember when she’d last felt this alive. Never in all her years had anything truly exciting happened to her. And now this! A masked intruder searching for a missing heirloom! Could this be truly happening?

  “Lord Mortimer?” Rebecca mumbled, trying to recall any such gentleman. “No, I cannot say I’ve heard of him.” Unfortunately! “Did he mention any of the other suspects’ names?” Please, say that he had!

  “No.” Blast it! Eugenie’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Why would you care to know? He is gone, and we are safe.”

  “Do you think your husband will catch up to him?” Rebecca asked, trying to distract her friend from the usual concerns that assaulted her whenever something remotely interesting went through Rebecca’s head. Could anyone truly fault her for enjoying this? She’d have to be a fool not to!

  “I doubt it,” Eugenie replied, and Rebecca wasn’t sure if she felt disappointed or not. “Ravengrove is a large structure, and we have no way of knowing where he’ll climb off the roof.”

  “That was quite impressive!” Rebecca sighed, cursing herself for her inability to hide her fascination.

  As expected, Eugenie felt compelled to comment on it. “I have to say you look a bit smitten with this young man.”

  “Can you blame me?” Rebecca asked, giving up on hiding how tonight’s events had made her feel. Indeed, her excitement was already waning, allowing the familiar mix of disappointment and boredom back in. “I’m surrounded by boring lords, one of whom my odious uncle insists I marry, and then I walk in here and see a man who—” A sigh left her lips before she shot up straight in her seat. “Do you think he could be a lord? Or at least of upper society?”