Gilded: The St. Croix Chronicles - Plot & Excerpts
Croix Chronicles Chapter Sixteen My knees collided with the floor much harder than I expected, sending pain licking all the way to my back. A figure wrapped in a concealing cowl leapt over me in a fine display of adroitness, and sprinted in a flapping wake of black for the back door. I leapt to my feet, the thrill of the chase surging through my veins like molten metal; only to fail to remember that I did not wear trousers this time, and my skirts would not allow for easy maneuverability. One foot came down on my hem, my ankle twisted and I stumbled into Mr. Pettigrew’s chair, rocking him to the ground with a terrible thud. Silently apologizing—no time!—I seized my skirt in one hand, wrenched it over my ankles and hurried pell-mell for that back door as it slammed shut. I would not lose this time! “Stop,” I called as I burst out of the door, just in time to catch a shape flapping from my right. The small alley was little more than a delivery corridor for those who brought goods to the shops, and only marginally maintained, at that.
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