Lord Scoundrel Dies Read Online Free PDF Page A

steal one set of boy’s clothing.’
    ‘Yes and aren’t you enjoying them. Honestly,
I believe you’re relishing this entire affair.’
    ‘I am a bit,’ Harry had confessed with a
grin, as she’d opened the window and stuck a foot out. ‘It’s the
most fun I’ve had since coming up to London.’
    ‘What are you doing ?’ Her cousin,
observing Harry’s actions, had managed to shriek in a whisper. ‘You
can’t go out the window! We do have doors, you know.’
    ‘There are still too many servants prowling
about and Uncle Isaiah has yet to go to bed. The window will do me
nicely.’ And she had matched word to deed before Sarah could
protest further, grabbing the drainpipe, which was situated
conveniently close by and climbing quickly down to the pavement
below. Looking up, she’d waved at her cousin, whose white, strained
face was peering down at her from above. ‘Make sure you leave the
front door unlatched for me. I shouldn’t be too long.’
    It was true enough. Either she’d find the
necklace and return triumphant or she’d fail and they would be
forced to think of the best way to break the news of the theft of
the family heirloom to Sarah’s parents. Having discussed it at
length, that was an option neither of the girls relished.
    There were a few people about but she walked
with the confidence of somebody who was supposed to be out and
about and nobody paid her the slightest attention. Lord Sutton
lived on Hill Street, which was not a mile distant and it took her
only ten minutes of brisk walking before she found herself outside
his house. The soft glow of candlelight could be seen through a
chink in the closed curtains but that meant nothing. A light would
be left burning for the master’s return. At this hour there might
still be one or two servants about – his lordship’s valet, most
likely – but in her aunt’s household and that of her own household
back home, the majority of the servants went to bed early so they
could begin their days at the unseasonable hour such employment
entailed. She was reasonably confident of being able to dodge a
servant or two.
    ‘At least I hope I can,’ Harry muttered as
she crossed the street. ‘If I’m wrong, it will all be over very
quickly.’
    She had gone through
various reasons in her head what she would say if she were
discovered by a servant or, God forbid, Lord Sutton himself. None
of them had sounded at all likely and her preferred method of
dealing with the situation had been to flee. She was young and
nimble. Surely she could outrun a footman? If she was captured and her
identity discovered – or, at the very least, her gender – she was
hoping to pass the whole thing off as a wager. History had taught
Harry that there weren’t many situations that could not be resolved
satisfactorily by a swift, persuasive tongue and a confident
manner.
    She had been planning on
trying to get in around the back of the building but the front door
looked enticing, in that it was temptingly close. The worst that
could happen was that it was locked but when she tried it she
discovered that it was not locked, for the knob turned easily beneath her
hand. With a quick look at the street behind her, satisfactorily
deserted, Harry cracked open the door and slipped
inside.
    As expected, a candle burned on a hall table
but it wasn’t the only illumination. Further along the spacious
entry, from which the usual staircase led upwards, another light
glowed, brighter than the candle that burned by Harry’s elbow. It
appeared to be coming through a partially open doorway. She stared
at it speculatively. Was the room occupied or had somebody merely
left a lantern burning? One thing seemed certain; hovering
indecisively in the hallway wasn’t going to give her any
answers.
    Creeping silently forward, Harry headed
towards the light. She intended to peek around the doorway and see
if the room was occupied. If it was, it would mean that she must
rethink her strategy but it