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He pulled his coat off. “This isn’t going to fool him.”
“It doesn’t need to for long. We’ll stick to the alleyway as much as possible, but a flash of skirt out of the corner of his eye will be easier to dismiss when he’s looking for a man.”
Good point. He yanked the skirt on over his pants and took off his hat, slapping the bonnet on his head.
Martha glanced back at him, opened her mouth to say something, and then just shook her head. “Let’s go,” she whispered.
They just needed to get to Mrs. DuVere’s, which was thankfully only two doors down. But with Spurlock riding the streets, it was going to be a harrowing few minutes.
“Wait,” he said, yanking on her arm to keep her behind the building.
“What?”
“You need to go to the sheriff’s office. Make sure he knows Spurlock is in town. He’s in just as much danger. I’ll get to Mrs. DuVere’s and let Nora and Mercy know what’s going on.”
Martha nodded. “Be careful,” she said, then turned to go back inside the store. Good thinking. It would look much less suspicious if she exited from the front of the store than skulking around the back alleyway. Like he was doing.
No help for it, though. He had to get to Nora, and his disguise definitely wouldn’t stand up to any scrutiny.
He stayed to the back of the buildings for as long as possible and then darted up the alley between the two buildings, hurrying along the walkway as unobtrusively as he could, though he drew more than a few glances.
He’d almost made it to Mrs. DuVere’s when his toe caught on the hem of his skirt, and he lurched forward. His attempt at yanking the material out of the way only succeeded in it tangling around his legs. A few choice curses left his lips as he stumbled again. He might as well just stand in the middle of the road and use the skirt to flag Spurlock down for all the good it was doing him. How a person was supposed to move about at all in the blasted thing was beyond him. He finally gathered up both sides of the voluminous frockery and near ran to Mrs. DuVere’s. He had to get inside before his disguise did him in.
Nora was just entering the parlor house when he got to the front door, and he grabbed her and pushed her inside, his skirts swinging.
Chapter Thirty
Nora squealed, but Adam clamped his hand over her mouth until they were behind closed doors.
She lightly slapped at his arm, and he let her go.
“What do you think you are doing?” she asked, not giving him the courtesy of answering before she pummeled him for manhandling her. “Never mind that, what are you wearing?” Her eyes widened as she looked him over.
“What areyouwearing?” he asked, his eyes raking over the blue dress that hugged her breasts but left the rest of her body hidden beneath its layers.
He seemed to like what he saw, though she hoped he wouldn’t get too attached to her dressing this way. She did enjoy wearing her dresses when the skirts weren’t going to interfere with her work. Afternoon teas with her friends were always a good occasion to gussy up a bit. But her trousers were definitely more suited to the harder labor she needed to do most days. Skirts just tangled around her long legs and made a nuisance of themselves.
“I miss your trousers,” he said, and she chuckled. “Although…” He gathered a handful of her skirts and lifted them slightly. “This definitely has its possibilities.”
She slapped his hand away and rolled her eyes. “That’s not why I’m wearing this. Behave yourself.”
“Why are you wearing it?”
Her lips quirked up. “I do wear dresses from time to time.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“You, however, do not that I’m aware of. What is this?” she asked, gesturing up and down to him.
“Martha let me borrow Mrs. Riley’s skirt.”
Nora frowned. “The one I’m supposed to alter?”
“Yes. She—” Adam snorted. “Damn, woman, only you could distract me from something like this.”
He yanked off the bonnet while he turned the lock on the door and went to peer through the curtain.
“Something like what?” she asked again, not bothering to hide her impatience. “I swear, if you don’t start talking…”
