Chapter 2 #2
“Stop. Have you given any thought to where the brooch might be, if, of course, he still has it.” When Josephine didn’t answer immediately, Willa said. “It is a valid question.”
“In a box with his markers and other winnings. I’ve already said as much,” Josephine said in exasperation.
“Yes, but where is this box? You can’t possibly mean to search the entirety of Lavisham’s home in a few hours.”
“I don’t need that much time. I would imagine that Lavisham keeps his winnings in his study, which is at the back of the house, facing the gardens.”
“How do you know that?” Willa said.
“I told you, I am observant.”
Part of the bawdy tale Wilkes had related about Lavisham was that he had unintentionally interrupted the duke with a female companion in his study, in the middle of the afternoon.
He’d been so startled, Wilkes had gone to the window to stare at the roses in the duke’s garden until Lavisham’s companion departed. Thus, the study faced the garden.
“But—there might be staff about.”
“As I said, I will use stealth to avoid the servants.”
The hack rolled to a stop a short distance from Lavisham’s home. “Here.” Josephine rapped on the roof of the hack to stop the driver.
After she and Willa hopped out of the hack, Josephine pointed to a spot down the street.
The moon was out, and there was just enough light for them to navigate safely, so there was no point to lighting the small lantern she carried.
Once the hack disappeared, she took Willa’s hand and pulled her around the corner to the tall hedge surrounding the duke’s property.
“You’ll hide just there.” She pointed to an especially large bush set along a long wall of stone. “Wave the lantern if anyone comes this way. Obviously, light it first.”
The upper half of the garden wall was comprised of wrought iron, topped with small spikes, which gave Josephine pause.
Splendid. How did I miss that while observing his home?
“How will that help?” Willa whispered. “Waving about the lantern?”
“I’ll be watching the windows for a flash of light which is your signal for me to retreat. Just be sure and wave the lantern high enough.”
“I’ve not nearly your height, Josephine. What if you don’t see me?”
She frowned and looked down at her smallish friend. “Hold your arm out like this,” she demonstrated to Willa. “And wave it. I’ll come running and meet you on the street outside Lavisham’s home. No sense in my climbing back over the garden wall again if I’m seen.”
Willa squeaked.
“Which I will not be. Seen, that is. And I’m good at climbing.”
“Yes, just as you are at pall-mall,” Willa replied.
“Why would you bring that up at a time like this?” Josephine placed her hands on her hips. “That has no bearing on the success of tonight’s mission.”
“Because you are not nearly as agile as you believe yourself to be. That poor footman.”
“A complete accident. Could have happened to anyone. I lost my grip on the mallet.”
During a contentious game of pall-mall, Josephine had bragged she could best each of the Harrington sisters as she was the…
most athletic. Her bosom had thrown off her center of balance while swinging, and the mallet had flown through the air in an arc above her head, hitting one of the footmen on the temple. “Firth was fine.”
“You knocked him to the ground. Unconcious.”
“He was later promoted, so no harm done.” Josephine nodded at Lavisham’s enormous house as she peeked through the wrought iron. “I’ll scale the wall. I can climb a tree well enough.”
“Oh, good lord, Josephine.” Willa placed a palm to her forehead. “This is quite different.”
“Not at all.”
Trees she could climb, though not exceptionally well. Her antics usually drew a small, discreet audience of servants, who she worried could see up her skirts. “A wall isn’t that much different from a tree.”
A wall was very different from a tree.
“And then what?” Willa hissed at her. “Once you are in the garden. Do you think Lavisham will have conveniently left open a window, expecting your visit?”
“The servants’ door in the back is probably unlocked, and even if it is not, one of my brother’s grooms, Old Smitty, has a murky past. He showed me how to pick locks two summers ago.
” Josephine tugged once more at her borrowed coat.
She was reasonably sure the coat hid most of her buxom form so that from a distance, with the hat she sported pulled low over her brow and wearing breeches, she’d be mistaken for a man.
Unless one of the brass buttons holding the coat together popped off, which was a distinct possibility.
Matters would…burst forth, leaving no doubt as to her identity.
“Stay hidden unless someone comes.” Josephine pushed Willa towards the row of bushes.
“You said the duke wasn’t at home.”
Josephine prayed for patience. “He isn’t. But as we’ve discussed, Lavisham has servants.”
“Right.” Willa scurried behind the largest bush. “But do hurry.”
Josephine turned to survey the wall before her.
“Get on with it,” she said under her breath.
Staring up at all that stone and wrought iron, she had a moment of doubt.
The coat would offer little protection if she slipped and accidentally speared a breast on one of the wrought iron spikes.
She’d be stuck up there like a fish on a hook. Willa would become hysterical.
Lavisham’s garden wall was nothing at all like the apple tree Josephine often climbed behind Fenmere Park. But she’d come this far and must try.
Groaning with effort, Josephine slowly climbed the stone, attempting to find footholds in the mortar with her too-big boots. Finally, she reached the top of the wall, hands grabbing at the iron spikes lining the top.
“Breathe, Josephine,” she muttered under her breath.
Managing to avoid one nasty looking spike, she carefully hoisted her body over the top, wincing at the sound of a button catching and breaking off. Dangling for a moment on the edge of the wall over Lavisham’s garden, she said a silent prayer and let go, tumbling over into a rose bush with a thud.
“Josephine,” came Willa’s worried voice.
“I’m perfectly well.” Brushing off her breeches, she plucked out a thorn sticking to her coat. “I merely lost a button,” she whispered back, glancing down at the way the coat gaped open over her bosom. Well, there was nothing to be done about it.
“Keep an eye out.”