Page 92 of A Dangerous Engagement

“Come.” He took Miss Appleby by her waist and lifted her onto the windowsill. “I shall step out onto the ladder, and you step out after me.” He quickly let himself out the window and climbed down to the second rung from the top. “Now step out onto this first rung, and I shall not allow you to fall.”

To his surprise, the lady stepped out rather nimbly, placing first one foot and then the other onto the top rung. Philip held on to her side with one hand as they began making their way down the rungs of the ladder.

As soon as Miss Appleby’s feet were on the ground, Philip climbed back up and through the window.

Miss Mayson’s eyes were closed again, as if she had no idea he was there, or ever had been. Philip had a fleeting thought of the “Sleeping Beauty” fairy tale, imagining kissing her lips and awakening her, dispelling the effects of the laudanum.

Instead, he touched her shoulder and said, “Miss Mayson, please forgive me.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Mr.Merrick?”

“Here is your cloak.” He pulled the covers back and laid it over her. “I need you to put your arms around my neck. I’m carrying you out of here.”

She blinked but then lifted her arms. He slid his arms underneath her and picked her up.

“You are always carrying me, Mr.Merrick.” Her voice sounded groggy and weak.

“I hope you will not be too scandalized.” He felt himself smiling. He had her in his arms again, and he would not rest until he had brought her safely home, God willing.

“Scandalized?”

“Yes, especially since you are still in your nightdress. Please forgive me for not allowing you to change first, but we must be quick.”

He sat her on the windowsill, and, holding her arm so she wouldn’t fall, he quickly wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and fastened it under her chin. Then he looked down. He’d have to carry her down the ladder.

With a hand against her back, he quickly climbed out the window and stood on the second rung. He carefully pulled her into his arms, then shifted her forward and over one shoulder. Holding on to her upper legs with one hand, he held on to the ladder with the other and made his way slowly but steadily, one rung at a time. Miss Mayson did not protest or even make a sound. He wondered if she was already asleep again.

How much laudanum had they given her? Had he come so close to saving her only to have her perish now?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

All of Felicity’s weight was resting on her stomach, making it difficult to breathe. Something was pressing against the back of her thighs. She was so sleepy—and so thirsty—but she was too uncomfortable not to open her eyes.

“Mr.Birtwistle.”

The rector stood below her on the ground as she slowly moved toward him. Someone was carrying her over his shoulder.

“Mr.Merrick ... no, Mr.McDowell ... is that you?” Thank heavens. She was glad to feel the cool night air on her face. It had been so stuffy in that room where Lady Blackstone had been trying to poison her.

“Forgive me, Miss Mayson,” Mr.McDowell said. They seemed to be floating above the ground but descending gradually. Finally, he set her feet on the ground, but only for a moment. He immediately lifted her, cradling her in his arms, and held her against his chest. She was much more comfortable now.

Felicity sighed. “I think this must be one of the dreams I keep having.”

“What kind of dreams, Miss Mayson?”

He was walking with her now, and she was vaguely aware of Mr.Birtwistle and Aunt Agnes hurrying alongside them.

“I keep having these strange dreams. I guess it’s the laudanum. It makes me so tired, I just sleep and dream. But I like this one.” She laid her hand on his chest, beside his neckcloth. She could feel his body heat through the layers of clothing, even though it was a cool night.

“You must be very strong to carry me, Mr.McDowell. And do you not like how in dreams you can say anything that comes to your mind? You don’t have to worry about rules or about being proper. Even my sweet and proper friend Julia Langdon would not object to speaking one’s mind in a dream, since no one seems to remember it when they’re awake.”

He seemed to be walking quite fast and jostling her quite a bit, and his breath was coming faster.

“Perhaps you should stop and rest, Mr.McDowell.” Perhaps she should rest as well. Her eyelids didn’t seem to want to open anymore. Poor Mr.McDowell. She hoped he would not exhaust himself too much.

Philip heard the shouts behind them. Lady Blackstone must have discovered Miss Mayson and Miss Appleby missing from their room.

Philip glanced over his shoulder. The high hedges from the garden hid them from the house, and it was blessedly dark.