The Thief by Laura Hayden

Author:Laura Hayden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Parker Hayden Media

CHAPTER 11

Emily collapsed under his dead weight, but was able to lower him to the floor without injuring either him or herself. She reached up and turned the lock just moments before she heard a roar from the hallway.

“Where is he?” a woman screamed. “He’s not finished yet.”

Another less frantic voice joined hers. “Calm down, Mother. You’ve been dreaming.”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort!” The woman’s outraged voice echoed through the room. Emily realized the two women had stopped right outside the door.

The younger voice grew softer. “Come back into the room. Please. You don’t want anyone to see you like this.”

Emily could contain her curiosity no longer and pushed herself up from the floor high enough to peer through the keyhole. She saw something—someone—dressed in white lace and red ribbons standing by the door.

The revelation hit Emily like a wet sponge. She’s in her undergarments!

She didn’t know whether to laugh or be embarrassed for the woman. Then a thought struck her. What was Mr. East doing in that room with an undressed woman?

Perhaps he was the one who deserved the sympathy. An image flashed through Emily’s mind as she imagined Mr. East walking into the room, stunned to discover a near naked woman lying in wait.

The absurdity of the concept almost wiped away Emily’s worst fears. Somehow, she knew he wouldn’t have tried to take advantage of a woman like Mrs. Molderhoffen.

A kernel of doubt slipped through her defenses.

Would he?

Emily left her charge on the floor and lit the gas lamp. She’d been lucky there was an empty room on the floor, despite the usual heavy holiday occupancy. The room had sustained damage from the previous occupant, a rich eccentric writer who had decided to plot his next book on the wallpaper. Then, angered by a rejection from a publisher, he’d taken his anger out on his current project, as well as the wall it was written on, by destroying it using whatever weapon had been handy—empty liquor bottles, chairs, etc. After the man checked out and the damage was discovered, the Major had spent a half hour in their next morning muster ranting about the maid who had not reported the first signs of trouble, therefore letting the problems mount.

Emily adjusted the lamp until the flame was low, giving her enough light to cause eerie shadows in the room, but not enough illumination to be seen beneath the doorway leading to the hall. She looked around at the cloth-draped furniture and the worktable dominating the center of the room. Lucky for them, the carpenters had been given Christmas Day off.

Mr. East shifted, drawing her attention. “God, kill me now,” he said with a groan. He pushed himself upright and groaned again.

Emily squatted beside him. “What happened, sir?”

He shook his head, then winced. “I’m not too sure. It’s all fuzzy right now.” He started to rise to his feet, and Emily steadied him. “I think she hit me.” He rubbed a red mark on his face and tested his jaw by working it gingerly with his hand.

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