So, the window wasn’t bolted shut or anything. That was good, Lisa thought as she eased it closed again. Probably because they were on the second floor. Climbing out and getting down to the ground wouldn’t be easy if it was even possible. One or both of them could fall and be badly hurt. But they could hardly stay here and just await whatever fate Mrs. Morgan had in store for them either.

Lisa sighed unhappily. She’d thought Mrs. Morgan was her friend, had liked the woman a great deal. Had being the key word. At that moment, she thought she could snatch the woman bald. How dare the old cow drug the tea and lock them in this room for . . . well, whatever it was she had planned. Lisa had some vague recollection of the mention of a suitor. And a doctor to examine Bet before she was sold. But it was all rather fuzzy and hard to recall exactly what had been said.

“What the bloody hell?”

Lisa turned back to the room to see Bet sitting up on the bed and gaping around with confusion. That confusion was quickly replaced with a scowl that she turned on Lisa.

“I told you the old bitch wasn’t a proper lady. What have ye got us into here?”

Lisa ignored the maid’s cuss. Bet never cussed, and she supposed her doing so now was a result of the dire situation they found themselves in, so she merely said, “Come. You may berate me later if you wish, but right now we have to get out of here.”

Bet scowled, but climbed off the bed and flounced toward her, muttering, “Well, ye’d do better to try the door then. We aren’t climbing out no window.”

“The door is locked,” Lisa said quietly.

“Brilliant,” Bet proclaimed and paused beside her to peer out the window. Her scowl immediately turned to dismay as she took in their situation. “We can’t go out this way. There’s naught to hold onto but brick and nothing to break our fall.”

Lisa frowned. Bet had just verbalized her own worries, but after a moment, she turned to survey the room. “We shall have to make a rope.”

“With what exactly?” Bet asked dryly.

She hesitated, but then brightened and said, “Do you remember that story I read to you about the dastardly Lord Haroway who kidnapped Lady Laticia to have his wicked way with her?”

“Oh, aye, that was a good one,” Bet said with a small smile. “He done some wicked things to her, all right. Ravished her good and proper.”

“Yes, but then she escaped out the window using a rope she made from—”

“Bedsheets,” Bet interrupted with a grin and turned to hurry to the bed. By the time Lisa caught up to her, the maid had pulled away the heavy comforter and begun dragging off the linens. “Dear Lord, these are filthy.”