The one thing she couldn’t do was wait in her room for morning to come and to seal her fate in marrying Johann. She would sooner die first, and the drop from her window might just kill her.
Chapter 24
Good God, Greg’s head pulsed like the devil. He blinked his eyes open in the darkness. A bit of moonlight spilled into the room What time was it? And where the devil was he? But he knew the answer to that question. His bed at Avery House felt the same as it always had. He was in his chambers. He was definitely in his chambers. But why couldn’t he remember getting there? Had he imbibed too much? Had Tristan or Simon talked him into doing something foolish? Was that why his brain hurt like the dickens?
And then pieces of his memory began to slowly come back. Aylesford had died suddenly and…Damn it all, Chatham had effectively put an end to Greg and Bella’s betrothal. His heart twisted at that memory and he sat bolt upright in a panic, and then he wished he hadn’t moved so quickly. God in heaven, his head felt like he’d run into an anvil. He gingerly touched his brow and a fist-sized lump was unmistakable. That damned Prussian had coshed him over the head. For the love of God, the bastard had ham hocks for fists.
And Hellsburg had tossed Bella to the floor. That memory flashed in his mind, and Greg was on his feet. Oh, dear God, he had to get to her this moment. What if Hellsburg…no, no, no. He wouldn’t think that way. Thinking that way would only hinder him.
He quickly surmised that he was partially dressed. No jacket, no cravat, no boots, but otherwise he was clothed. That would save a bit of time. Greg bellowed, “Tomkins!” for his valet.
And a moment later, his man stumbled into Greg’s chambers with a candle, lighting the room more than the moonlight had done. “My lord, the doctor said you should stay abed.”
The doctor could go hang. “I need my jacket and Hessians, Tomkins, I am in a hurry.”
“Of course, my lord.”
And a pistol. He was going to need one of those too, not that he’d say as much to his valet. The man couldn’t testify to something he didn’t have prior knowledge of, could he? “And have Sanders summon a hack.”
“A hack?” his valet echoed. “But your coach…”
…would be unmistakable with his crest emblazoned on the side. No, no. Greg shook his head, even though doing so made it pulse like the devil. “A hack, Tomkins, and quickly.”
* * *
Blast it, Bella’s half-boots were slippery on the window frame. She’d thought they would be more practical than slippers, but now she was questioning that decision. Although, dangling from her window and stretching her legs as far as they’d go and trying desperately to find purchase on the window frame of the floor below was probably the wrong time to re-question her footwear choices.
Her fingertips gripped the edge of her window ledge and barely kept her from falling to her death. Her foot found the top of the window frame again and she struggled with all of her might to keep from slipping off again.
Her arms shook from her weight and she was certain she was about to die when her foot finally found a bit of ledge large enough to stand. She sagged against the outside of Chatham House, relief washing over her. She wasn’t safe, not yet; but she was much closer than she had been a moment ago. Finding a way down from the first floor was going to be a challenge. If only there had been a way out of her room through the doorway. But that was neither here nor there anymore. She was standing on the top of the window frame on the first floor of Chatham House, and wishing for another route was pointless now.
Oh, she wished her arms weren’t already mush.
Bella glanced on either side of the window, hoping for something she could hold onto in her attempt to make it down one more level. A drop from the window ledge of the ground floor wouldn’t kill her, but a drop from this first floor, she could easily break her leg, which would make escaping to a coaching inn nearly impossible.
* * *
For the love of God! “Stop!” Greg barked at the driver. Was that Bella, all dressed in black, somehow standing atop a window frame on the side of Chatham House?
Before the hack had even come to a complete stop, he’d leapt from the thing and raced across the street and up the walk. At first he’d been so relieved to see her, to see that she was unharmed, but that could end very quickly if she fell to her death.
“Bella!” he called up to her in a loud whisper.
She seemed to gasp and then she looked down on him as she struggled to keep her balance. “Greg?”
“Push away from the wall and I’ll catch you.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “It’s too far.”
It was far, but there was no way in the world he was going to lose her, not now, not ever. Greg stared up at her as he positioned himself in the best possible place to catch her, willing her to believe in him. “Iwillcatch you. Trust me.”
She seemed to steel herself and then she nodded. After all, what other choice did she have?
“On three,” he said, lifting out his arms. “One, two, three.”
Bella pushed away from the stone façade and dropped…
Greg’s arms closed around her as they both tumbled to the ground. God in heaven, he couldn’t breathe as the wind had been knocked from him; but she was safe; and that was all that truly mattered.