Page 86 of His Improper Lady

Desiree vaulted over the low parapet onto the roof of the warehouse and kept running, followed by Tom. At the other end of the warehouse was a large block and tackle, a rope running from the pulley to the lift platform. The rope had been tied off, holding the empty lift at the top. Desiree went to work on the knot, and Tom reached in to help. Tom played out the rope, letting the platform down to the ground, then retied it to keep the rope taut.

Using her skirts to protect her palms, Desiree grabbed the rope, wrapped her hands and legs around it, and slid down the rope to the street. Tom followed suit. They crossed the rough ground to the street on the other side of the warehouse. They were now on the street parallel to the one they had traveled earlier. The men, if they were persistent enough to follow them, would have to backtrack to the last cross street and come around, too, putting them a good distance behind them.

They trotted down the street, a little breathless from their exertion. Everything was silent around them, making it very noticeable when a few moments later their pursuers emerged onto the same street. One of the men let out a shout, and they charged after Desiree and Tom. Tom cursed. Desiree grabbed his hand, taking off across the street and through the door of a building.

Bolting up a set of stairs, they ran down a hallway and out onto a gallery on the back side of the building. Below them, Tom could hear the lap of water, and looking down, he saw that the river was below them. They rounded the wooden walkway and ran back toward the front of the building, where they climbed another set of stairs.

With anyone else, Tom would have questioned the strategy of running upward, but he trusted Desiree and stayed on her heels. They came out on a higher gallery. Next to them was an obviously abandoned building. The roof had caved in, leaving only the walls. The front wall was the same height as the building on which they stood, and it stretched all the way to the next building.

Desiree swung her leg over the railing of the wooden gallery and Tom said, “Desiree, wait...you expect us to walk across that?”

“You can do it,” Desiree told him encouragingly. “It’s wider than the beam you walked on in our exercise room.”

“Yes, but that was a foot off the floor, not thirty feet,” Tom pointed out.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s more than twenty,” Desiree replied. She gazed at him for a moment, then nodded. “Stay here. I’ll go across and draw them off. You head back down the stairs and come out after they’ve passed.”

“And leave you to face them alone? You really are insane if you think that.” Tom sighed and gestured at the wall. “Lead on. I hope to hell this thing isn’t about to fall in like the rest of it.”

“It won’t. Trust me. I can ‘see’ it, just like with people.” Desiree smiled and leaned over to give him a soft kiss. Turning, she stepped onto the wall and walked across. Tom swung his leg over and stepped down onto the wall, his hand still clenched on the railing. He looked down and sucked in a breath. On the right lay the street two floors below. On the left lay the debris of the collapsed roof. He’d never thought of himself as being scared of heights, but there were heights and then there were heights.

“Don’t look down,” Desiree said. “Just walk to me.”

Lifting his head, Tom set his feet straight on the wall—it was wider than he needed, but somehow that fact did little to reassure him. Heart pounding, he released his hold on the railing and extended his arms to either side, as she’d showed him the other day, and began to walk toward her. He wanted—so much—to cast his gaze down at the street below, but he refrained. One step and then another. Don’t go too slowly. Don’t think about the ground. Just walk to Desiree. It lasted an eternity, and he could feel the cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

But then he was there, taking her hand and jumping down to stand on the roof beside her. Desiree took his hand and said, “You’ll like this—there’s a ladder down from here.”

“Thank God.”

There was indeed a ladder at the other end of the roof, and even though it was just as long a drop to the ground as the wall had been, Tom had no qualms about climbing down it. All it took was strength, and that was an entirely different matter. The rungs ended a few feet above the ground and Tom jumped to the dirt below, then turned back to reach up and catch Desiree as she let go. He set her down beside him, and they leaned back against the building for a moment, panting.

“Where the devil are we? The docks?” he whispered.

She nodded. “But it’s not terribly far from the Strand. If we can just make it there, we’ll be able to grab a cab.”

They edged over to the corner of the building and peered around. The street was empty in either direction. Slipping out from behind the building, they walked quickly and quietly down the street, staying in the shadows of the buildings. They passed a tavern, but neither of them felt like going into a dockside pub for help.

Turning onto another street—now Tom was beginning to recognize where they were, as well—they saw two men walking toward them. The men broke into a trot when they saw them. Desiree and Tom came to an abrupt stop.

“There are more of them?” Tom exclaimed in disbelief.

Whirling, Tom and Desiree fled back up the street. Darting into a side street, they ran on, turning corners frequently. The maneuver lost their most recent pursuers, but just as they slowed to a walk, they heard a shout. “There she is!”

Tom looked over to see the original three men running toward them. Tom and Desiree took off again. Desiree scanned the buildings around them as they ran, looking, no doubt, for a way to scale one, but they were all warehouses—large buildings with flat brick walls, void of ornamental doors, stonework, trellises or porches. There were no wooden galleries or trees. Streetlamps were few, just enough to see where one was going, creating pools of shadows.

Tom could see that Desiree was flagging; hell, he was, too. However athletic and agile Desiree was, the running and climbing they had done was very taxing, and the burst of energy that their fear and excitement had released was beginning to wane. Before long, both of them would come crashing back to earth.

Too late, Tom realized that they had run into a dead end. A loading dock lay at the end of the street, with only the river ahead and warehouses lining the sides. They skidded to a halt and turned, but the three men were too near. There was nothing for it but to stand and fight.

CHAPTER THIRTY

TOM DIDN’T NEED to look at Desiree to know what she wanted to do. Tom squeezed her hand, and the two of them rushed forward, taking the fight to their enemies. The men skidded to a stop in surprise. One of them slipped and fell to the ground. Tom swung his fist, hitting the largest man in the stomach, and the man doubled over. Tom followed up with a blow to his jaw.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw Desiree go into a cartwheel, kicking the third man in the face as she went by. He let out a yowl and staggered backward. Desiree whirled as soon as her feet touched the ground and hurled herself at his back.

Tom’s opponent staggered but came back. He was less agile than Tom, but his big fist packed a wallop. The third man, who had fallen at the beginning, jumped up, and Tom glimpsed a short metal bar in his hand. He rushed at Tom, swinging the bar. Tom grabbed his opponent’s jacket and jerked him between Tom and the man with the weapon, so that the blow landed heavily on the other man’s back. He fell against Tom, carrying Tom down with him. They rolled across the street, grappling. The fellow with the bar followed, swinging at Tom, but he wound up in the street instead as the combatants rolled first one way and then the next.

Tom slammed his opponent’s head against the bricks of the street, stunning him, and jumped to his feet as the man with the bar swung at him again. Tom blocked the blow with a raised arm, sending a shock of pain through him up to his shoulder, and punched the man in the jaw with his other fist. The man staggered back, and Tom grabbed the bar, wrenching it away.