Page 110 of Winning Winnie’s Hand

“Do they not do, like, a sweep around the wall or something?” she asked, looking up and down the path. Come to think of it, they’d been alone for some time now.

“All two or three miles of them?” Matthew questioned with a doubtful look. “Unfortunately, I think they give people more credit to watch out for the approaching darkness themselves.”

Winnie pressed a hand to her brow. “So, now what?”

Matthew appeared to think for a second. “Let’s just go check the gates. No point in getting worked up for nothing.”

And yet, when they reached the steps leading down to the city, it was made perfectly clear that the gates at the bottom had, indeed, been locked.

Matthew rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “I should’ve paid attention to what time it was.”

But she wasn’t about to let him take the fall. “Oh, it’s fine. I’m sure we’ll find a way down. Maybe we could call someone?”

“I have no idea who.”

“The police?” she offered.

He gave her an amused look. “Probably not for this.” He paused, looking around them, then back to the top of the wall. Finally, a smile grew on his lips. “I have an idea that might actually work.”

She followed him a ways along the wall, then he stopped with a beaming smile that revealed just how proud he was of his idea he had yet to share.

“What?” she asked, clearly missing something.

“This is our way out,” he said.

He waved toward a large tree sticking out toward them, its long branches stretching over the wall, just above their heads.

Winnie stared, calculating the distance she’d have to jump to reach up to the tree, shimmy along the branch, then fall to the ground below.

“I don’t know about this,” she mumbled.

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured her.

“Even in these?” She motioned to her high-heeled feet. “And this?” Then she waved a hand across her dress.

Matthew frowned. “You and those ruddy heels. Well, never mind. You can take them off. The dress, of course will have to stay on.” Winnie wasn’t sure he knew what he was actually saying as he looked back to the tree.

“Come on,” he urged, “let’s get down before it gets too dark. I’ll go first. Then I can spot you from the bottom.”

Winnie stared at him in disbelief. He was out of his mind. But then, what other option did they have?

In a state of mild panic, she watched Matthew climb onto the ledge of the wall, facing the outskirts of the city and gripping the branch that stretched toward them.

Slowly, he steadied himself, eying the grass below.

“Is it a far drop?” she asked.

“Nah. If I fall, I’ll survive. Might have a broken bone or two, though.”

She winced. “Matthew, I don’t know about this…”

“I’m kidding, Winnie. I promise, we’ll be fine.” Then he looked back to the tree.

Winnie leaned over the edge herself. That drop looked a lot farther than Matthew had let on. Honestly, the things he was making her do today—wearing wellies, playing games in castles, now climbing trees in heels. What would he concoct next, breaking into a museum that night to spend even longer learning about history?

The street beyond the walls was situated more than two dozen feet away, and a few cars drove by, the people inside entirely unaware of her and Matthew escaping the city walls. At least, she hoped they were unaware.

“What if we’re caught?” she asked.