My Own True Love (34 page)

In a moment both feet were on the rope, his arms held out at his sides for balance. The rope was stiff with the cold. So were his toes. He took another cautious step. He wanted to run, just to get it over with, but he was out of practice, so it was very important to make himself move with deliberate care. He took each step slowly; it seemed as if it took years to crosi the street on the rope slung two stories above it.

The fall was not a long one, he reminded himself as he inched along, but he couldn't afford the noise of crashing down to the icy cobbles, never mind the prospect of a rather messy death. The point was not to alert any guards. Falling
might
not kill him, but this was a one-way trip. The important thing was to be unseen, to get in, get to Sara, and find a way out. She was no tightrope walker. No time to worry about how they were getting out just now, he knew. One thing at a time. One step at a time.

He was sweating despite the cold when he reached the other roof. He let out a sigh once he was standing on the flat, gravelly surface, and hurriedly put his shoes on. Once shod he looked around for a way into the building. He moved forward, trying to be silent, hoping his tread would not be heard in the servants' quarters that must be tucked in the attics below the roof. Sir Horace had told him that he'd never noticed any guards patrolling the palace roof. As Lewis circled above rearing rows of chimney pots, searching for an entrance, he prayed he was alone while cursing the darkness at the same time.

The opposite side of the roof was in dark shadow, caused by the curving wall of a marble facade that reared above the actual roofline. Lewis headed for the wall, hoping to find the access door hidden by the facade. The door he was searching for opened and a small cloaked figure stepped out just as he reached the wall.

His prayers were answered.
"Sara?" he
whispered, hurrying the short distance forward.

"Stefan?" a woman's voice questioned as she turned his way.

Lewis froze in his tracks, a fist of disappointment tightening around his heart. "You're not Sara."

The woman threw back her hood. Even in the faint light he could tell her hair was pale blond. "You're not Stefan," she said.

Where had he heard that voice before? He associated it with music. And pain. He recalled the back room at Mikal's, and the visit from the child, and his governess. "Miss Meinstad," he said. He found himself giving her a polite little bow despite the ludicrous circumstances of their second meeting. "How nice to see you again," he added. He wondered if he should force her to take him to Sara, or politely wait here for the firing squad?

"You're Lieutenant Morgan, aren't you?" Miss Meinstad asked. She didn't seem at all disconcerted by his presence on the palace roof. "I knew that if you survived and really loved her you'd come. Sara's told me all about you," she went on. "Have you seen Captain Rudeseko?" she added. "Sara told me he wanted to see me on the roof, but I think near midnight on February twenty-third is hardly the best time for a rooftop tryst. Don't you agree? I don't think I'll wait for him. I don't suppose you're waiting for him too?"

"Uh. No." What else could he say. "Sara?"

The governess took his arm. "I suppose I'd best take you to Sara now," she said.

"Thank you," he said as she opened the door and led him to a dark stairway.

"Can't have the guards, even dear Stefan, interfering in dramatic rescues, now, can we? This is a dramatic rescue, isn't it, young man?" she questioned sharply.

"Uh. Yes."

"Good." They descended the last of the stairs to a hallway lit by candles in wall sconces. "This way,"

she directed. "Sara's going to be so happy about this."

******************

"Lewis needs me," she told it. "The revolution needs me. It's time I got out of here. Why don't we grab the brooch and make a run for it?"

"Never mind the brooch," the ring answered. "Let's just go."

"Never mind the brooch? 1 felt you drooling over it the whole time I was trying to play. It's your fault I was so bad tonight," she added as she recalled her pitiful performance. The duke had shouted at her a lot before ordering her out of his sight. "It's a wonder the duke didn't have me executed."

"You were thinking about Lewis."

"Of course I was thinking about Lewis. You were thinking about your ruby friend. It was a fiasco."

"Indeed. Let's not quibble over who's to blame, let's just get out of here."

"Fine with me. How?"

"Good question," the ring answered just as the door opened.

Sara's room was right next to the governess's, so she was used to Denise coming in at all hours. In fact, she recalled that Denise had promised her cocoa just before Lewis Morgan came back into her life.

Sara looked up to greet Denise, but barely noticed her as her gaze found the man accompanying her.

"Lewis," she said as he stepped in behind Denise, and quickly closed the door behind them. She ran forward. "Oh, Lewis!" Which, she realized, was an incredibly dumb thing to say when she should be asking him why he was risking his neck to come to her. And what he'd meant by not admitting she was his—

He took her hands and said tenderly, "Hello, Mrs. Morgan."

Oh. Well. Everything was all right, then. The love shining out of his eyes nearly melted her. "Hello," she replied. The simple word was completely inadequate to what she was feeling. What she was feeling was going to take years to articulate. She began by saying, "About time."

He nodded. He drew her to him in a tight embrace. "I'm a very slow learner," he whispered in her ear.

"I love you and you're mine."

"I love you and you're mine," she repeated. It felt as if they had just taken their marriage vows all over again and this time it was really real.

"I'm glad that's settled," Denise chimed in. "Now," she went on as Sara and Lewis looked at her,

"don't you think you should be leaving? Don't worry about Beth," she added as she took off her cape and handed it to Sara. "She's safer here with me. And happier too, I think."

Sara couldn't deny it, so she nodded her agreement at Denise's words. "Can I leave my guitar here too?" she asked, putting on the cape. She hated leaving it more than she did Beth, but it was probably not good to be loaded down with bulky objects during daring escapes. She touched her abdomen, glad that she wasn't all that bulky yet herself. Denise smiled and nodded to her request.

Lewis took her arm. "Come on," he urged. "Before Rudeseko shows up to find out why Miss Meinstad didn't meet him on the roof."

"He wanted you to meet him on the roof?" Sara asked Denise. "Why?"

"I wouldn't know. You're the one who told me."

Sara looked at her friend in utter confusion. "No, I didn't."

"But—" The door opened before Denise could finish. It was Captain Rudeseko. "Oh, dear," she said.

Then she folded her hands in front of her, lifted her chin, and looked her betrothed in the eye. "Stefan, dear," she said. "The Morgans are leaving now. Would you mind showing them out?"

Rudeseko opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out; he just stared at Denise for a while. He looked as though he were frozen in place. Sara wondered if she and Lewis could sneak out behind him.

"I—" he finally said. "Uh—" He took a deep breath and turned to Sara. He pointed at Lewis. "Do you want to leave with this Englishman?"

Lewis put his arm around Sara's shoulder. "Why wouldn't she?"

"Will you be safe at the embassy?" Rudeseko persisted.

"Why wouldn't she be?"

Sara cast a wary look at Lewis. "We aren't going back to the embassy," she told him. "We have to find Mikal."

"Yes." Since Rudeseko continued to glare at him, Lewis asked her, "Why does he think I'm going to hurt you?"

"Not you," she answered. "I've told him all about you. He doesn't want me to go back to the embassy.

I don't want to go back there, either."

Lewis didn't understand Sara's hostility any more than he did the guard captain's. "Why? Ambassador Tate is a wonderful man. He sent me to—"

"He had her beaten when she brought you to the embassy, Englishman," Rudeseko cut him off. "When she was only trying to save your life."

What Lewis felt was as much shame as it was a slow, cleansing anger. He turned Sara to face him.

"Sir Horace told me he had the butler threaten to beat you to get you to leave."

She shook her head. "It wasn't a threat." She watched Lewis go white with anger. His fingers tightened on her shoulders. She was inordinately pleased by his reaction. "They didn't really hurt me," she admitted.

"But they humiliated you." She blushed, and nodded. "The butler and I will be having serious words.*

he promised her. Sara was right; they weren't going back to the embassy, or to England. They weren't going anywhere where she could be hurt or humiliated by her inferiors. Which meant, he supposed, that they were staying right here in Bororavia and getting on with her blasted revolution.

"Come," Rudeseko said. "I will show you to the gate."

Sara turned a grateful look on him. "Thank you." She smiled at Denise. "Thank you both."

Denise waved her toward the door. "You'd better get going. We'll talk later."

With the guard captain as their escort no one challenged them as they made their way through the palace and grounds. Sara paused at the gate and put a hand on Rudeseko's sleeve. She whispered to keep any of the soldiers on patrol in front of the palace from overhearing. "You aren't going to get into trouble for this, are you?"

He shook his head. "It's time I started handling trouble. Be careful," he added. "His Highness has his German mercenaries hunting the houses for the rebels' printing press tonight."

She nodded. "We'll be careful," she promised. "You know," she added, "when you walked in just now, I was scared you were coming with the order to execute me."

Rudeseko blushed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I was. Godspeed, Sara," he added, before turning and walking back through the palace gate.

Lewis took her hand and quickly led her in the opposite direction.

******************

"Are you trying to tell me you're cold?" Lewis asked as they approached the house Sara had identified as Mikal's. He had no memory of the house, merely of pain mixed with comfort in the back room. "A lady," he added, "never admits to being affected by the weather."

"In Minnesota," she went on as if she hadn't heard him, "I have at least six different weights of coat in my closet. Do I have any of them with me? No. Why? Because of a dumb wish ring that didn't bother explaining the rules before we got started on this little escapade of ours."

"Most ungentlemanly of it," Lewis agreed. It had been a long walk, and yes, it was very cold, but he was having a wonderful time. Why? Because Sara was with him. "Love," he commented, "causes the most ridiculous state of mind."

"Don't it, though," she agreed. She looked around. "The street is quiet. Too quiet."

"Perhaps," he said, pausing to take a look up and down the shabby, shop-lined street. "It is past midnight."

Groups of mounted soldiers had passed them at irregular intervals throughout the trip from the palace, but they hadn't been stopped. They had seen other people stopped, questioned, some taken away. He'd kept a firm hand on Sara and they kept moving. Lewis attributed their luck to their being a well-dressed couple who walked along hand in hand, with deliberate casualness.

The front of the silversmith's shop was dark. Sara led him to an alley and around to the back of the building. Light spilled out from a small window, and warmth greeted them after Sara knocked and a tall man came to open the door. A broad smile spread over the man's drooping features and he hurried them into a small, crowded kitchen. Beng was seated at the kitchen table. He pushed to his feet as Sara ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

"So, James Bond Lewis Morgan," Beng said sternly over Sara's head, "you've brought my daughter back from among the
gajos.
And yourself." His voice was stern, but the Rom patriarch was smiling.

Lewis nodded. "That I have."

"None too soon," Mikal said. He touched Sara's arm. "Come. I have something to show you." He picked up a lamp and they followed him into the back room.

When she saw what was in the storeroom Sara groaned. "The printing press. You brought the press
here?"

"We've set up shop here, but we'll have to break the press up and move it soon," Mikal told her. "It's too dangerous to keep it in one place for long."

"That's for sure," she answered. "The city's crawling with troops looking for that thing."

"We barely got it out of Madelinka's before the cossacks came," Beng said from the doorway. "They burned the old woman's house. Mikal sent her and his family to a camp we set up in the Ozersk Forest.

Molly organized that," he added. Sara couldn't help but notice that Beng sounded proud of his sister.

"The men are in the city," he went on. "Waiting only for more weapons before we take the palace."

Lewis smiled and stepped up to Beng. He took the key out of his pocket. "This will get you into the East India Company warehouse," he told his father-in-law. He smiled. "I'm sure the guards will be looking the other way when you show up to use it."

Beng reached for the key, but it was Mikal who came up and took it from him. The tall man clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "This will save many lives. You truly are a Hero of the Revolution."

Behind him Lewis heard Sara mutter, "I do all the work and he's the Hero of the Revolution. Typical."

"I think you'd better hurry," Lewis said to the men.

Beng nodded. "We go now. Come, Mikal."

After the men left Lewis came up to Sara, who was staring intently at the printing press. "What are you thinking?" he asked. He put his arm around her shoulder.