Blake pushed off the wall. She moved rapidly down the corridor, her bare feet silent on the runner rug.
Heavy boots thudded on the stairs. Security.
Hardin must have hit the panic button by the bed.
She calculated quickly. The main exit was compromised. The grand staircase would be swarming in thirty seconds.
She ducked into a servant's alcove just as a beam of light swept past the hallway entrance.
Two guards ran past, heading toward the Master Bedroom. Their radios crackled.
Blake slipped out. She moved low.
She reached the end of the hall. A window overlooked the garden.
Second floor. Fifteen-foot drop. Soft turf landing.
She undid the latch. It was stuck with layers of old paint.
She used her elbow. A sharp, jarring strike. The paint cracked. The window slid up.
A guard at the far end of the hall turned at the sound.
"Hey!"
Blake didn't hesitate. She vaulted onto the sill.
"Stop her!" the guard yelled. The distinct zap of a Taser charging filled the air.
Blake jumped.
She tucked her body into a tight roll. Gravity took over. The wind rushed past her ears.
She hit the lawn. She rolled instantly to disperse the impact. Mud stained the white silk of her nightgown.
She sprang up. Her left ankle stung, but it held weight.
Searchlights swept the grounds from the roof, cutting through the darkness like blades.
She stuck to the shadows of the manicured hedges.
She reached the perimeter wall. Eight feet of stone.
She found the trellis she used to stare at sadly during her lonely afternoons.
Now, it was a ladder. She climbed swiftly, ignoring the thorns tearing at her palms.
At the top, she paused. She surveyed the road.
A black SUV with tinted windows patrolled the perimeter.
She timed the gap. Ten seconds.
She dropped down the other side to the public sidewalk.
She merged into the darkness of the tree line across the street.
Rain began to fall. Cold, heavy drops that washed away her tracks and soaked her to the bone.
She disappeared into the night, leaving the Duchess persona behind in the mud.
