It Takes a Spy...: A Secrets and Seduction book (10 page)

“What if someone’s down there and sees him emerge?” Cecilia asked.

“At this time of night?” Devin asked. “It must be one in the morning.”

“Should I check?” Evangeline asked. “I don't think anyone’s down there. I don’t hear a sound.”

Cecilia chewed her lower lip. “Let’s drop the sheets down first and see what happens,” she suggested.

“Excellent idea. Plus, it gives him a softer landing.”

Devin grimaced. “Good idea.” Not that the sheets would help if he fell from this height, other than to soak up the blood from his broken body. He swallowed. Perhaps it would be best if he kept those dark thoughts to himself.

He leaned over to reach the pile of wet linens on the floor, gathered them up, and then tossed them down the chute. They skittered all the way down as the brushed the sides of the chute until they hit the bottom with a plop.

They all listened carefully, but there was no other sound.

“I think it’s safe,” Devin said.

“Then we’ll meet you down there after we speak to the chambermaid. I want to make sure she isn’t suspicious,” Cecilia said.

Devin nodded and climbed into the chute. Cecilia watched as he braced his arms, back, knees, and toes against the walls of the chute. “Be careful,” she said. “It’s a long way down.”

He nodded and began to inch his way down. His last glimpse of Cecilia came as she closed the laundry chute, leaving him in relative darkness. Fortunately, a faint glow of light far below him let him gauge the distance to his goal.

The linen closet door opened with a rattle, and Evangeline gave a squeal of surprise. “Oh, my! I didn’t expect to see you there.”

Devin froze in place.

He could easily hear the chambermaid’s voice through the door of the chute. “I didn’t know where you’d disappeared to,” the maid said, apparently finding it difficult to keep her annoyance and suspicion from bleeding into her voice. “When I saw the trolley was gone, I came searching for it.”

“We wanted to help,” Cecilia said. “We both feel terrible for the mess we made, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do,” Evangeline said.

“You shouldn’t have taken my trolley. I’m responsible for it. I could lose my position here if something happened to it.” There was real fear in her voice.

“Oh, no!” Cecilia said, sounding appalled. “I never considered what you might think when you found it missing. I’m terribly sorry. We brought the linens down here and tossed them down the laundry chute for you. We thought it might partially make up for the trouble we caused.”

“You did?” The chambermaid sounded surprised. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“I think we only made things worse by taking the trolley,” Evangeline added in a contrite tone. “We’re being terribly careless and thoughtless tonight.”

“’Tis no bother for me to do my job. That’s why the hotel employs me, and I’m happy to do it,” the young woman said. Her voice held a lingering note of annoyance, but at least she didn’t sound suspicious.

Devin heard the door to the storage room close. The voices were now muffled, but he could tell they were moving down the hallway.

He was safe.

Safe at the top of a laundry chute with a forty-foot drop below him.

Devin readjusted his arms against the interior of the chute and began to shimmy his way toward the bottom.

His movements were slow and arduous. He concentrated on each action he made, being careful not to slip. That wasn’t an easy task with his leather-soled shoes. He’d have been better off if he’d done this barefoot, but it was too late to take his shoes off now.

As he neared the bottom of the chute, he began to worry about the faint glow below him. What if someone was down there?

He paused. His feet were beginning to cramp, and his arms were shaking. At least he’d made it far enough down that if he were to fall he probably wouldn’t die.

He’d only break his leg.

He began moving again and was almost at the bottom when a scuffling noise below him in the laundry room made him freeze in place. He listened intently, but he couldn’t detect anything over the noise of his own heavy breathing. He opened his mouth so he could inhale more silently and listened.

Footsteps— moving beneath him. Someone was down there.

He craned his head forward to peer down the chute between his legs. The faint glow of light dimmed slightly, and then a voice called out. “Devin? Are you still in the chute?” Cecilia said softly.

He let out a sigh of relief and began moving again. “Yes,” he said. His voice echoed back to him hollowly.

He heard the squeak of noisy wheels. “We pushed a laundry trolley below the chute,” Cecilia said. “It should help break your fall.”

Devin’s feet were cramping again, and his right toe lost traction and slid down the side of the chute. He slid about five feet before he was able to stop himself, and he scrambled to press his arms and back hard against the side of the chute. After pausing a moment, he decided to take a chance.

He let go and dropped into the trolley.

Evangeline let out a squeak of surprise, but it was Cecilia who hurried over to peer down at him. “Are you injured?”

“Only my pride,” he said as he tried to push himself up from the piles of unwashed linens. He plucked at a pillow cover that clung to his sleeve and tossed it down with the rest of the laundry, then climbed out of the trolley.

“You look rather rugged and dashing, with your hair all tousled and your jacket askew,” Cecilia said.

Devin straightened his jacket and smoothed his hair back in place. The smile teasing the edges of Cecilia’s mouth fell away.

“I didn’t mean it as a criticism,” she said. “I meant it as a compliment. Tousled hair looks good on you.”

Devin cleared his throat. “I prefer a more neatly groomed appearance. I’ve been taught to associate an unkempt look with a general lack of respect for oneself and others.”

Cecilia cocked one eyebrow. “You look astonishingly proper for a man who just escaped through a laundry chute.”

Devin didn’t know if he should be pleased by her observation or not, so he said nothing.

“We haven’t escaped yet,” Evangeline said. “We aren’t even out of the building.”

“I know a way out,” Cecilia said as she turned away.

Devin glanced around. There was little to see in the darkened room that might help them. He now realized that the glow he’d seen came from the banked fires used to heat the water for washing the linens. Cecilia moved toward a door, and Devin noticed some garments hanging from pegs next to it.

“We can wear these,” she said, plucking down some items. “And here are some plain trousers that will cover your suit pants.”

He noticed now that both Cecilia and Evangeline were wearing much plainer dresses than they’d been in when he’d last seen them. How had they managed to change so quickly and still be down here before him? He must have moved even more slowly than he’d realized.

He took the proffered clothing and quickly slipped everything on over his own black jacket and trousers.

When he turned back to face the sisters, he saw that they’d pinned caps atop their heads and had donned aprons. They looked exactly like members of the hotel staff. It was uncanny.

“The exit is here,” Cecilia said.

Evangeline began giving instructions in a staccato tempo. “Remember to look tired and bored. Don’t glance around to see if anyone is watching, or you’ll give us away. Focus on each other, not on the police. If we’re stopped, complain that we were kept late because of the theft. In fact,” she said, obviously warming to an idea, “ask for details. Nothing will get the police to shoo us along faster than having us nose into their business. Devin, if they ask what we do at the hotel, tell them that you work in the laundry and Cecilia and I are chambermaids.” She glanced at his attire. “With what we’re wearing, our jobs should be fairly obvious.”

Devin nodded.

“And get rid of the upper-class accent.”

“’Oi can manage ‘at,” Devin said.

Evangeline looked at him blankly for a moment and then grinned. “Perfect.”

They were outside on Davies Street a moment later.

“Stop,” a policeman called out before they’d even gone five paces.

A surge of energy rose in Devin, making him want to confront the man, but he forced himself to stand still and remain submissive. It went against his every instinct, but in this instance he knew fighting or running would be the worst choices possible.

“Were you cleared to leave?” the policeman asked.

“Are ye searchin’ fer the thief?” Evangeline asked. Her eyes widened and she stepped closer to the policeman. “We 'eard all aboyt it, didn't we?” she asked, glancing at Devin and Cecilia.

“If that guard doesn’t wake up soon, we’ll be calling him a murderer,” the policeman muttered under his breath.

They nodded. “Oi 'eard yer man was some rich bloke,” Devin added. “An' yer let 'imself slip through yer fingers.” He let out an obnoxious snort of laughter.

The policeman’s face reddened. “Just get yourselves on home. Don’t be loitering on the streets or I’ll arrest ya.”

“For waaat? Doin' waaat yer tol’ us ter ?” Evangeline asked. “Yer said stop, we stopped.”

“Now I’m telling you to go, so go.” The policeman reached back and placed his hand on his club.

“Naw nade ter git cheesed off. We're goin',” Evangeline said.

Devin took each of the sisters by the arm and hurried them down the street. “That was perfect,” he muttered to Evangeline.

“I never knew you could speak with an Irish accent,” Cecilia said, sounding surprised. “You’re quite good at it.”

“One picks things up,” he replied. “I had a roommate at school with an amazing talent for accents. That Irish one was his favorite.” As he took the corner at the end of the street, he glanced back and saw that the policeman was still watching them. But he wasn’t following.

“We need to find a carriage,” Devin said.

“We can find one just up the street at the next hotel,” Cecilia said. “We don’t want that policeman to see us hailing one.”

A few minutes later, they found themselves contemplating a cab built for two, not three.

Evangeline sat down first. “I’m sure you can both squeeze in,” she said. She covered her mouth, but not before Devin caught a glimpse of a wicked smile. The little minx.

With a sigh, Devin climbed inside and then held out his arms for Cecilia.

Even in the dim lamplight, her deep blush was obvious as she climbed into the cab and onto his lap.

She tried to find a comfortable spot and finally positioned herself sideways on his lap, facing her sister, with her legs nestled between his thighs.

Devin’s mind turned in a decidedly ungentlemanly direction as he considered what might happen if she were to move the hand braced against the inside of his knee up…but then she moved it, resting it on her lap.

As the horses pulled away, she rocked forward, and he pulled her closer so she wouldn’t slip from his lap. She tensed, her entire body going rigid.

“We need a plan,” Evangeline said. “Confronting LeCompte could be dangerous.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Devin murmured. It was good to have something else to think about other than Cecilia’s bottom pressed against his lap. Most decidedly.

“We can’t very well stop at a shop and buy a pistol. They’re all closed,” Evangeline said.

“And I can’t stop at my townhouse either,” Devin said. “The police are bound to be watching it.”

“We can’t walk into his home unarmed,” Evangeline said.

Devin remained silent for a moment, and then an idea struck him. “Driver,” he called out. “Take us to the Ambridge Club first, and then on to our original destination.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver called back. He immediately turned onto a side street.

“Why are we going there?” Cecilia asked. “What if someone recognizes you? There’s a manhunt for you.”

“I’ll have to take that chance. But I shouldn’t be in any danger unless I run into someone from the ball. News travels fast, yes, but I didn’t see any other Ambridge Club members at Mivart’s Hotel. And besides, I don’t plan to go any farther than the cloakroom.”

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the Ambridge Club. Cecilia and Devin both stepped onto the pavement. Devin pulled off the workman’s coat and handed it to Cecilia, and then he balanced against the side of the hansom cab as he shed the rough garb that covered his elegant black trousers.

Handing them to Cecilia, he said, “Wait in the carriage. I’d rather not have anyone notice you standing in front of the club. I shouldn’t be gone more than five minutes.”

He turned and trotted up the stairs to the entrance, trying to look as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

The attendant glanced up as Devin approached the desk. “Good evening, Mr. Montlake,” the man intoned.

“Good evening,” Devin replied. “I seem to have left my hat and cane in your cloakroom.”

The man looked slightly taken aback. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. Someone should have brought them to you before you left the premises. Would you like me to send someone to collect them for you?”