Secrets of the Night by Jo Beverley

Author:Jo Beverley [Beverley, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780451408891
Publisher: Topaz
Published: 1999-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“We have to leave!” Diana gasped, rushing into the room dressed in what looked like rags.

Rosamunde turned sharply from the sitting room window, where she’d been foolishly hoping for sight of Brand being brought to safety. “Indeed we must.” Then she took in her cousin’s frantic state. “Why? What’s happened?”

“The marquess is making enquiries, and he’s brought in the army. We have to leave. Once away, we can get rid of our disguises and he’ll never find us.”

She flung an armful of clothes onto the bed—her previous servant’s costume—and began to struggle out of the sacklike garments she was wearing.

“Is this another disguise?” Rosamunde asked, helping to remove a coarse calico apron, a dingy top, and a saggy brown skirt.

“This,” said Diana, tossing the last item on the floor, “is the best that could be found when you threw up all over me.”

“Oh, Dinah, I’m so sorry!”

Diana relaxed a little and threw her a smile. “You couldn’t help it, and I must admit, it’s been interesting being the lowest of the low.” She tied the laces of her blue skirt over her snowy white shift, and quickly slipped into the brown overbodice lacing it down the front. “When I put these clothes on at Dulcie’s, I never thought they’d feel so grand to me one day. Now, let’s pack and get away from here.”

Rosamunde watched in astonishment as her normally unflappable cousin dashed around gathering their belongings. “Yes, I agree we should leave,” she said, “but the marquess will never suspect us, Diana.”

All the same, awareness of her note pricked at her. Now was clearly not the time to confess but Rosamunde too wanted to hurry away from Thirsk. She helped pack.

“That man suspects everyone,” Diana said, then dashed to snatch something from the empty grate. Pieces of paper?

Rosamunde’s suspicions sharpened. “Diana, what have you been up to?”

Diana froze, then stirring memories fifteen years or more old, she tilted her chin defiantly and showed what she held in her hand. Her crest torn off a sheet of paper. “I’ve delivered a note to the marquess, telling him where to find Lord Brand. It just wasn’t right—”

“You’ve what? Into his hand?”

“No, of course not! It was very clever. I’ll explain later. But it’s wending its way to him. And I just saw him with two army officers. I’ve ordered the coach. We’ll never make it home today, but we have to leave.”

“Indeed we do,” said Rosamunde with a sick feeling that everything was going wrong. “I’ve just dispatched a note to him as well!”

“What!”

Rosamunde gave her cousin a rapid account of her plan as they both picked over the room for any betraying item. A button. A thread. As they worked, she received a tangled tale to do with ostlers and the London coach. Diana had apparently dropped her note in the stable yard as the coach was leaving. She had also clearly had at least one close encounter with Lord Rothgar.

“Oh, Diana,” she said, giving the room one last

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