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At least for a woman of her temperament.
Besides, she had not lied when she said she was desperate to return to her father. By now Josiah would be frantic with worry. Perhaps frantic enough to do something entirely foolish.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned to push the narrow bed against the far wall. Once it was in place she stepped onto the mattress until she could see out of the narrow window.
Below her there was nothing more than the kitchen garden and a low wall that marked the alley. Nothing that offered any hope.
Not until she glimpsed a young man strolling down the alley attired in rough clothing. No doubt one of the endless flood of poor lads who were hired to clean cisterns or deliver coal or haul away rubbish.
Fumbling with the lock, Raine managed to push open the window far enough to stick her head through.
“You. You there,” she called loud enough to capture the man’s attention. “Stop.”
Grudgingly slowing his pace, the man turned his head toward the house. “What yer want?” He stumbled to a halt as he caught sight of Raine leaning from the window. “Blimey.”
Raine was not at all above using her effect on the opposite sex for her own purpose. Why not? It was not as if she had an overabundance of options at the moment.
“Please come closer. I need your help.”
“Me?” The lean face was coated in dust, but there was no mistaking the sudden wariness. “Oh, ay. This is some sort of swindle. You lure me close and then conk me over the noggin. Well, I ain’t no pigeon.”
“No, please. I assure you that there is no trick.”
“Then wot yer doing up there?”
Raine swallowed a hysterical urge to laugh. The poor man would never believe her if she told him the truth.
“Do you know who owns this house?” she instead hedged.
“’Course I do.” The man removed his battered hat to scratch at his head. Raine hid a grimace at the sight of his matted brown hair. “Some toff by the name of Gautier. A foreign gent who ain’t have no wife or sisters. So wot you doing there?”
Philippe Gautier.
Yes. It somehow suited him.
She swiftly searched her mind for some feasible lie. Something that would convince the man to risk entering the house to rescue her.
“I arrived with Monsieur Gautier last evening, but I fear I have made a dreadful mistake. I wish to return to my father, but…”
She deliberately allowed her words to trail away with a dismal sniff.
The man instinctively moved to the wall. “But wot?”
“I have been locked in. I need you to sneak into the house and remove the chair that is blocking the door.”
“Nay. I ain’t in no hurry to have some gent put a lead ball through me heart.”
“Monsieur Gautier is not here, nor does he intend to return for hours. You will be perfectly safe.” The man continued to regard her with suspicion. Raine gritted her teeth. “And I promise to reward you for your efforts.”
At the promise of a reward the man crawled over the wall to stand directly beneath the window. “Let me see, then.”
“See?”
“Are ye daft, give me a peek.”
“Fine.” Raine cursed beneath her breath as she turned her head to frantically search the room. Her gaze landed on Philippe’s discarded clothing still piled on the floor, and scrambling off the bed, she grabbed his superfine jacket. Hastily she searched the pockets until she pulled out a tiny antique locket that was hidden in the inner lining. It was a decidedly odd piece of jewelry for a man to be carrying, but at the moment Raine’s only concern was that it was clearly made of a fine gold. Tossing aside the jacket, she climbed back on the bed. “Here.” She held her hand out the window to reveal the necklace. “’Tis worth more than you can earn in a month.”
The mud-brown eyes narrowed as a nasty smile twisted his lips. “True enough, but I was thinking on a more intimate sort of reward, if yer know what I mean.”
