Chapter 29
Well. This was new. Scouting by the light of day was a whole different animal than slinking about in the night.
And in a gown, no less. Hiking her skirt in one hand, Juliet crept close to the foundation of Bellamy House, every sense heightened.
One slipup could alert the staff, at which point she had no doubt Mrs. Bellamy would make good on her threat to have them all arrested.
A fate she’d much rather avoid.
Rounding the front of the building, she left behind the low drone of the three men.
Henry was likely still bristling about his decision to let her go off alone.
His father probably paced like a tethered tiger.
And if she didn’t return soon, there was no telling how much damage Mr. Parker would do with that cane of his.
Which was exactly why she had to be the one to do this. Now. While Mrs. Bellamy was peeking out the front draperies, keeping an eye on the trio.
Ahead, part of a curtain hung out from a window. Keeping one eye on the ground lest she snap a downed twig from one of the nearby hawthorn bushes, she crouch-walked onwards and stationed herself just below the sill.
Inside, a rocking chair creaked a rhythmic song. Soon it was joined by the sharp clip of women’s half boots echoing against the tile.
“Come now, Mr. Groffit.” A woman’s voice. “It’s teatime, sir. Let me help you to the dining room.”
A muffled grunt followed, then a man’s voice. “What about my laudanum?”
“Not yet. Doctor says you’ve had enough for now. Up you go. There’s a good man.”
A groan. The fast wobble of the chair before it died off. Footsteps then, this time more of a shuffle, slow, methodical, and growing fainter.
Juliet rose slowly until her eyes cleared the sill.
This wasn’t Charity’s room, but it did belong to a patient, which would give her an idea of the layout.
In the corner nearest the door stood an iron-framed bed, neatly made up.
The rocking chair she’d heard occupied the corner on the other side of the door.
A wardrobe graced one wall and—if she rose a little higher and craned her neck—a cabinet with medical equipment was just to the side of the window. It all smelled of vinegar and liniment.
Good information.
Lowering, she continued on to the next window, this one closed. Either a sign the room was not occupied or that its resident required absolute quiet and privacy … meaning someone dreadfully ill or someone whose presence was meant to remain undetected. Like Charity.
Ever so slowly, she eased herself up to peer in—and her heart sank.
The bed was empty.
Still, there were many more to scout. And she did.
Juliet worked her way around the big building until she’d nearly circled the expanse—leastwise until there were no more windows to peer in.
Defeat tasted like too much salt in her mouth.
Returning to the men empty handed would only inflame them all the more.
She paused at the corner of the stone wall leading to the front and glanced upwards, not only asking for some heavenly guidance, but also studying the upper-level windows, where more curtains billowed out. Charity could be up there. She had to be.
So. There was nothing for it, then.
Juliet retraced her steps to the rear door, where a particularly thick cluster of wisteria grew, probably watered by a scullery maid too lazy to carry her dish bucket any farther. If the maid or any other staff member came outside right now, there’d be no hiding.
With all haste, she grabbed the hem of her skirts and twisted the fabric into a knot just above her knees. Bulky—and scandalous—but it would do.
After one last peek at the mountain she must climb, she grasped the woody trunk and hefted herself up.
The vine scratched against her palms, rough and gnarled, but it held—for now.
Hopefully when she reached the decorative ledge, that would hold her weight as well so she could sidestep from window to window.
All the while, she forced herself not to look down and contemplate how it might feel for her bones to shatter.
As she neared the overhang, she narrowed her eyes, clinging tightly to the vine while considering the best way to manage once she no longer had such a handhold.
Other tendrils spiraled out, embracing the entire house.
Some looked promising. Others looked as weathered as windblown old lace. Would they bear her weight? Or—
She cocked her head, listening hard, all thoughts of technique flying from her mind. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she’d heard a weak voice of protest.
Again, words fluttered out through the nearest open window, as soft and determined as a hummingbird’s wings. “Let me go. I want … to go home.”
“Now, now, miss.” A stronger voice, female, this one carrying an air of authority. “All is as it should be. You must focus on resting, hmm?”
Juliet’s heart raced. It could simply be some patient complaining.
Or it could be Charity.
Determination sparked inside her like flint against steel. She reached for the next handhold, fingers wrapping around the bark, and pulled herself up. Then she stretched for another. Grasped it. Pulled. Repeated. Only three more feet to the ledge when something cracked.
Then tore.
The vine gave way.
She swung wildly, the sudden drop jerking her arm and wrenching her shoulder as she hung one-handed. Midair. Feet scrambling for purchase.
And finding none.
A cry strangled in her throat.
Henry snapped shut his pocket watch, shoving it into his pocket with such force that the stitching gave way with an audible pop. Juliet should have returned by now.
Stifling a growl, he tugged his lapels, frustrated. He never should have let her go off alone in the first place.
“Juliet’s time is up.” He turned to Parker. “We will flank the building and meet at the rear. I’ll head east, you west. If you come across Juliet, send her here where my father will be waiting.”
He glanced at his father. “Agreed?”
The elder Russell didn’t hesitate. He gave a single sharp nod. “And if none of you return in five minutes, I shall break down the door.”
Judging by the vinegar in his tone and grim set of the man’s jaw, Henry had no doubt his father would do exactly that. He’d do the same were he not on the hunt for a certain wild-haired, independent woman.
He stalked off, heels grinding into the gravel path circling Bellamy House. No green-gowned woman caught his eye as he swept the grounds. Thankfully, no staff members caught his attention either.
The path wound past clipped hedges and an occasional gnarled hawthorn bush.
He scanned along the stone walls, also taking note of open windows—which would be a far easier entry than the heavy front door, though it would no doubt frighten an unsuspecting inmate.
Above, more windows opened to the fresh air.
Any one of them could belong to Charity …
or to Juliet, if she’d already scaled the walls in one of her reckless attempts to help.
Despite a spark of fury, his lips twitched into a small smile. She was an untamable force, that woman.
Near the rear corner of the building, a flicker of movement snapped his gaze upwards.
Just a loose vine flapping in the breeze.
He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before cracking his neck one way, then the other.
If he did find Juliet clinging to a ledge like some lawbreaking street urchin, he’d throttle her.
After he made sure she was safe, of course.
He rounded the back of the house, jaw clenching tighter with each step. No Juliet in sight.
Parker was already there, leaning on his cane near the back door. He shook his head at Henry’s approach. “No sight of Miss Finch. Did you find her?”
“No, I—”
A cry choked above them.
Henry’s stomach plunged as he jerked back his head to see Juliet dangling by one hand, her feet scrambling against the stone, every kick useless.
Parker uttered an oath beneath his breath, backing up with a stilted limp. Henry dropped into a crouch, arms outstretched, calculating the distance. The thought of her falling—of those clever hands slipping, that lovely neck snapping if he missed.
No. He tensed. He would catch her!
God, please let me catch her.
Her half boot found purchase. A desperate push, a wobble, and then—
She was climbing again.
The breath shot from his lungs, fury fighting with relief. “Juliet,” he whisper-growled. “Climb down here at once!”
She didn’t even glance at him. She simply held up one finger, shushing him.
And then climbed higher.