Player's Ruse Read Free Page A

Michael and I both grinned.
    “How disconcerting for Master Quidge,” said Michael.
    “He was quite put out.” Rosamund was grinning too. “And now I have you to look after me, so that’s that.”
    “We shall,” Michael promised, and lost himself in her thanks so completely that I was the one who saved the fish from burning.
    Infatuation had its advantages—for me. Michael gave up his cot to the chit while all I had to forfeit was a blanket. Scant hardship in this weather.
    I’d braced the chair under the door again, but I really wasn’t expecting a disturbance and fell asleep with no more than the usual gloom of a man about to embark on yet another adventure.
    The pounding on the door woke us, but the booming voice demanding that Mrs. Inger open to Lord Roger’s deputies must have roused the whole street.
    Michael had been sleeping on the floor—now his eyes met mine and he shot out of his blankets.
    “What’s going on?” Rosamund asked sleepily.
    “Get dressed!” Michael hissed. “We have only a few minutes.”
    “A bit more than that.” Though I didn’t waste time climbing out of my bed either. “Mrs. Inger will delay them for a while. And here I thought I’d never be grateful to the vicious, old . . . There, you see?”
    Mrs. Inger’s voice, demanding to know how they dared raise such a commotion at this hour, was louder than the deputy’s. But she didn’t much like Michael and me, and I’d no illusions she’d delay them for long.
    Michael and I dressed in seconds, then stuffed our things, and some of Rosamund’s, higgledy-piggledy into our saddlebags. I took an extra second to make sure the jewels were stowed safely.
    “I thought you said Lord Roger’s home was several days’ ride off,” Rosamund whispered. She’d taken little more time with her clothes than Michael and I.
    She was pulling on her shoes as Michael replied, “Quidge must have found him visiting nearby. ’Tis the only way the deputies could become involved so quickly—unless Fisk has been up to something I don’t know about?”
    Ordinarily I’d have replied smartly, but Mrs. Inger had stopped shouting, and that was a bad sign. They’d do no harm to Rosamund, or to me, for I’d broken no laws. But unredeemed men have no legal rights, and those who harm them face no penalty. Most folk take a dim view of the unredeemed, especially law keepers.
    Rosamund stood and started for the door.
    “No, this way.” Michael guided her into our bedroom, where I threw the shutters wide. A man whose name was not Jack Bannister had taught me to always find several exits from any room I stayed in, and in two years as an unredeemed man Michael had picked up the habit.
    Rosamund’s jaw dropped. “But we’re on the second floor.”
    “ ’Tis not a problem.” Michael swung through the window as he spoke and stood, holding out his hands to his cousin. “The kitchen roof is right here, and you can walk it all the way to the tannery behind us. Our horses are stabled there. Come on—I’ve got you.”
    I braced a second chair under the bedroom door. The chairs themselves would slow the law only a few seconds, but if they broke the first one, they’d have to fight Mrs. Inger to deal with the second.
    Rosamund went out the window willingly, and I marked in her favor that she hadn’t protested leaving half her clothing behind. I picked up our saddlebags and stepped out onto the slippery wooden shingles, closing the shutters behind me. Every second it took them to figure out where we’d gone was to our advantage.
    Both moons were up, the Creature Moon near full though the Green Moon was waning, and the cool, gusty breeze was just strong enough to make you fear it might knock you off balance without actually doing it. I was walking a bit slower than I’d intended, but I soon caught up with the others anyway. I cast a hunted glance at our windows, but the shutter seams were still dark. Mrs. Inger was doing better than I’d