Page 95 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
Hannah nodded, biting her lip. “Your Grace, the guards won’t let you go willingly. They will report to Mr. Drake or His Grace as soon as they can.”
“I’ve thought about that,” Gwendoline reassured her, a mischievous smile curving her lips. She had not felt this alive in a long time. “I’ll have to be, uh, creative.”
Hannah’s eyes widened, dread and excitement flashing across her face. “Creative?” she repeated.
“I know some self-defense techniques—a little bit, anyway,” Gwendoline admitted, blushing a little.
She was pleased and embarrassed at the same time. She wished she could demonstrate her skills on her bastard of a cousin.
“His Grace had insisted on teaching me. I had never thought of ever having to use them, but I have important things to do now. A mission. Can you imagine that?”
Hannah looked just as excited as she was, but she also looked torn. “Your Grace, it looks like you are set on this. So, I’ll help you in any way I can. But please, Your Grace, be careful. I will never forgive myself if something terrible befalls you.”
Gwendoline heaved a sigh of relief. It was one thing out of the way, and she knew she would encounter more obstacles.
She squeezed Hannah’s hand. “Thank you, dear. I promise to take every precaution.”
Gwendoline waited until the household had quieted. She had been doing this for nights—listening to the sounds of the house. A large house had its own sounds, creaks, sighs, and footfalls. She had acquainted herself with them.
So, she knew when it would quiet down, like a tired old woman about to retire for the night. She was aware of where the guardsstood or sat all night. They were loyal and uncomplaining, and she didn’t want to hurt any one of them… nor did she want to be tackled by one.
She wore a simple dark gown—black like the night. It had a hood to cover her fair hair, which was tied into a neat braid. She also had a few essentials with her, like a change of clothes, money, and a small dagger tucked into the inner packet of her satchel.
Hannah had helped her with gathering her essentials and devising a strategy. Then, they walked from her chamber to the end of the dimly lit corridor.
“The guard stationed down this hall,” Hannah whispered, pointing to the right, “is the easiest to slip past. He is still new to the job, and he’s not as sharp as the others.”
Gwendoline wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t. There was nothing humorous about her situation. She merely nodded, barely hearing her maid over her thundering heartbeat.
“Thank you. I will see how I can send you a message as soon as I can,” she promised, although she was not certain what awaited her in London. Not really.
“Godspeed, Your Grace,” Hannah said, her voice trembling and her eyes shimmering with tears. She leaned forward as if to embrace Gwendoline, but then she hesitated.
Gwendoline realized that her maid must have remembered her station. So, she made the first move and wrapped her arms around her. “Thank you, Hannah.”
Hannah sniffled her goodbye.
Steeling herself, Gwendoline continued navigating the corridors, muffling her footsteps by walking daintily over thick carpets. Every creak of the floorboards made her heart leap. Then, she saw the guard Hannah had mentioned—the one who was young and new to his job. He seemed no older than twenty and was too relaxed for the task at hand.
Taking a deep breath, Gwendoline prepared herself to sneak past him. Her mind raced through the moves that Damian had taught her. They seemed simple enough, at least in her head.
“Your Grace?” the guard called out, surprised. He straightened up, no longer the lazy young man she had expected him to be. Oh no. “You should not be here, Your Grace. Um?—”
Before he could finish, Gwendoline stepped forward and twisted his arm behind his back. So far, she could only picture the move in her head, but she was able to catch the guard off guard. A kick to his knee made him fall to the ground and groan in pain.
“I am so sorry,” she pleaded breathlessly, regret filling her. She knew the young man was merely doing his job. “I must go now.”
She sprinted into the stables, hesitating a little when she saw Daisy. She didn’t have a choice. The mare was the most familiar ride, and it was already saddled.
Hannah had made it all possible. She wouldn’t let her maid down. She wouldn’t let Damian down.
Whatever she was doing right now was necessary. So, she whispered soothing words to Daisy and swung herself up into the saddle. Then, they took off into the night.
For some reason, Gwendoline had managed to leave Greyvale undetected. Perhaps alarms were sounded minutes or hours after she left. It was also possible that nobody knew that she had even left—not yet.
The countryside beyond the estate was so quiet that Gwendoline cringed at the way Daisy’s hooves pounded against the dirt. After a while, though, she had gotten used to it. Nothing seemed to stir in the towns that night, and the houses were few and far between. She knew that the moment she started seeing more houses, she’d be near London.
Her cheeks stung from the chilly night air. Her heavy cloak didn’t shield her enough, but she pressed on. She had reclaimed an unwavering determination that she hoped would be enough to face her problems and her fears.
