Page 85 of His Improper Lady

Fortunately, her low-necked evening gown had fewer buttons than the dress she had worn this afternoon, a wide sash securing it at the waist. He began untying her corset, and Desiree said, “Just cut them.” Reaching into his pocket, he took out his penknife and sliced down the strings. The corset sagged open, and Desiree tossed it aside. He began to rebutton the dress but could manage only the very top ones, the waist now too tight.

While he worked, Desiree had turned up the skirt of her elegant dress and untied her petticoats. She shucked them off, adding them to the corset on the floor. “At least I wore low-heel slippers tonight.”

Next she swept up her full skirts, twisting them and knotting them, then shoved the ends into her sash, with the result that her skirt now fell to her knees rather than her ankles. Desiree pulled out the glittering ornament she wore in her hair. Three prongs had secured the jeweled figure of a hummingbird to her upswept hair, and each of the metal prongs was wickedly sharp. She pinned the knot of skirts to the waistband with the ornament to ensure they would not come undone. The entire process had taken her about three minutes.

“That pin is lethal,” Tom commented a little enviously. It looked a good deal more dangerous than his pocketknife, that was certain.

“Never hurts to have a weapon with you.”

“You are a dangerous woman.”

“I am,” Desiree agreed, grinning at him.

“Sadly, I have nothing but this.” Tom reached into his jacket and pulled a small derringer from his inside pocket. “It’s only good at close range and has just one shot.”

“Then you’d better make good use of it,” Desiree responded. “We’re slowing down.”

Tom reached out and turned the door handle, peering out the window at the dark street. Four men stood in the shadows, waiting for them. Before the vehicle stopped completely, Tom flung open the door and jumped out, Desiree right behind him. There wasn’t time to aim; he simply fired at the group, then turned and darted after Desiree. A shout of pain behind him told him he’d at least done some damage, and it gave them a few extra moments.

Amid the chorus of curses from the men, one voice rang out, “Get her!”

Glancing over his shoulder, Tom saw that the men had all dived for cover, including the one who was clutching his arm. Ahead of him Desiree was scanning the area around her, and he knew she was looking for something to climb. Heaven help him.

Suddenly she stopped, her head whipping around, and she ran back to the pub they’d just passed. A large barrel stood by the door, and Desiree climbed up on it, then jumped up to grab the bar of the sign above the door. Planting her foot on the top of the open door, she pushed up and scrambled onto a narrow ledge. Tom followed her, thrusting aside his doubt, and managed to get onto the ledge beside her. He gripped the bricks of the wall with his fingertips, unlike Desiree, who barely touched them.

Desiree was already sidling along the ledge and around the corner. When Tom edged around the corner after her, he found himself in an alleyway even darker that the street. It was rank with the smell of refuse and so narrow their bodies barely fit between the buildings. Apparently, Desiree had not only the eyes of a cat but the agility of one as well, for she continued moving along at a fast pace. She stopped when she reached the back of the building that abutted this one.

Tom could hear the running footsteps of their pursuers, then the sounds of the men attempting to copy Desiree’s maneuver with the barrel and sign. That was followed by curses and a crash as the barrel turned over and rolled into the street. Tom couldn’t help but smile to himself even though he and Desiree were stuck at a dead end.

He wondered if Desiree intended to cling to the side of the building until the men gave up. Tom knew he could do some damage jumping down on them, but they were still outnumbered, and however courageous Desiree was, she was far smaller and slighter than any of the men.

The side of the building where they stopped was Tudor timbered, and Desiree began to scramble up the beams, somehow finding every divot or crack that she could use as a handhold. She crawled onto the roof. Tom followed less nimbly, tearing a fingernail and scraping his knuckles in the process. He swung his leg up and heaved himself over onto the flat roof.

“Good Lord, you’re mad,” he said, simply lying there for a moment. The cursing behind them continued as the men apparently tried to squeeze into the narrow alley.

“I’m good.” Desiree grinned. “Now, just follow me.”

She crossed the roof to the adjacent building. It was several feet higher than the one they were on, but the wall had enough chunks of mortar missing between the stones to make for easier handholds and footholds. They took off across the rooftops.

On the street below, their pursuers followed their path. There were only three of them now; the man he had shot had stayed behind. The men stopped once or twice to try to climb up a building after them but finally gave up and just kept up with Desiree and Tom from below. Eventually Desiree and Tom would have to climb back down.

They reached a cross street, and Desiree stopped, studying the street below and the building across from it. The lane was narrow, and the buildings on each side were in the same Elizabethan half-timber style, the upper floors extending out a few feet over the street. The gap between the two buildings was therefore narrower than the lane. Desiree began to back up.

“Wait.” Tom took her arm. “You don’t mean to jump across that street.”

“We can jump it. It’s only three feet.”

“Three feet of empty space!”

“Don’t worry. It’s safe. We’ll make it. I told you—my ‘talent’ came in quite handy for thieving.”

Tom dropped his hand and watched, heart in his throat, as Desiree backed up, then ran forward at full speed and leaped across the strip of nothingness, landing on the balls of her feet and springing up. Tom moved back, reminding himself that it was a distance he could easily jump and that the height made no difference. He took a breath, then raced forward, jumping the gap and landing on the other roof with a good deal less grace than Desiree.

Desiree looked at the rooftops around her as Tom picked himself up, panting.

Her eyes gleamed as she said, “They made a mistake. This is my patch.”

Once more she set off across the rooftops. The area was a warren of buildings, a hodgepodge of heights and styles. They had to crawl across the midpoint of a steeply pitched roof at one point and scramble up the less slanted side of another to reach a higher roof. The streets and buildings twisted and turned. Then, the street along which their pursuers ran came to a dead end, a warehouse blocking their way.