Page 19 of The Good Duke
Alas, for Persephone, a thirty-six-year-old woman, options and references were remarkably short. So, just then, lurking outside this residence posed the least risk. At least in enteringthishousehold, she didn’t have to worry about being hanged for entering. And so, really, it was the only course, the only option. That is, assuming if she was caught, the remaining servants even bothered to contact their employer about the intruder. The greater likelihood was that they’d simply turn her over to the constable…
“Enough,” she mouthed. Never more had she resented that working for Mrs. Belden had made her so very logical.
Persephone stopped halfway down the alley and dropped her worn satchel, and it landed with a damning thwack.
She went absolutely motionless, bracing for someone to come running…and her eventual discovery.
After an interminable amount of time later, when it appeared discovery was not imminent, she released the breath she’d been holding.
No, thievery was certainly not within her skillset.
Not that she wanted to live a life of crime. Just the opposite, really.
Now, there was the matter of sorting through her employment—or lack thereof—situation.
Pushing her hood back a fraction, Persephone did an up-and-down assessment of the space from the ground to the earl’s window facing the alley.
Six and a half feet…and a few inches.
Nearly five feet, six inches herself, it wasn’t really that much distance for her to close, and as a girl who’d jumped nearly twenty inches, she’d surpassed most of the boys.
She sprung forward, up, and stretched for the large flat ledge.
Her fingers brushed the windowsill.
She cursed as she missed that ledge.
She jumped up once more.
Persephone landed on her feet.
She made several more attempts and this time managed to clasp the ledge.
Victory!
Her triumph proved short-lived.
Her grip slackened, and she lost her precarious hold.
Persephone came down hard.
Bloody hell.
She was about fifteen years out of practice.
Puffing and out of breath from her exertions, she eyed the distance once more.
Who would have imagined that something which had come so easy to her as a child should prove so blasted impossible now?
Throwing her cloak over her shoulders, she stretched her arms back and forth several times.
Then, squatting, Persephone propelled herself up.
Her fingers caught the broad stone sill.
Satisfaction filled her as she dangled several feet from the alley floor.
How much easier this whole climbing thing had been as a girl…and even as a young woman. She’d scaled trees and windows and balustrades. Wood ones. Stone ones.Metalones.
