Chapter 10
Vincent waited until the cave floor stopped dipping and rolling like a ship in a storm before he risked opening his eyes again.
Miss Walden knelt before him, her brows furrowed in concern as she stared at him.Dirt smudged her cheeks and nose, and strands of hair had escaped her braids and frizzed around her face.Bits of white peeked through numerous little rips and tears in her dark brown dress.Without the scarf tucked into her neckline, he saw the curved tops of her breasts, though her arms were not folded and pushing them up at the moment.
“Where is your scarf?”
Her eyebrows raised.“Thatis what you want to know just now?”She snorted.Then pointed at his head.“You were bleeding.”
He reached up, finding the scarf and a wad of linen.His hands came away with grit and traces of blood on his fingertips.“In complete darkness, you found my injury and treated it?”
“First I found you.Then when you didn’t answer me, I tried to find out why.”
Hearing the catch in her voice, he looked at her more closely.Now he noticed her jagged fingernails, the scratches on her hands, how she was holding herself rigidly as though she might shatter into pieces if she relaxed.He risked turning his head, taking in the uneven pile of rocks blocking what had been the entrance, and numerous rocks on the ground on either side.Only large rocks remained at the top; the smaller ones had been flung aside.
How terrifying it must have been for her, trapped in here, no source of light, her only companion injured and unconscious.And instead of huddling in the corner and having a fit of hysterics, she had stopped his bleeding and worked to free them.
He patted his thighs.“Come here,cara.”
She reared her head back.“I beg your pardon?”she said in the same tone a duchess would use to depress an encroaching toady.
He folded his legs tailor-style and held his arms out toward her.“Please.”She obviously wouldn’t admit to needing comfort, even if he desperately wanted to give it to her.“I am chilled after lying on the cold ground.”Not something he would admit to in other circumstances, and a mild discomfort he could easily ignore compared to the demented carpenter hammering away in his head, but it suited his purposes.
Her brows snapped down and she squinted one eye as she stared at him, her head slightly turned to the side.Perhaps patting his lap and calling her like a dog had not been the best opening gambit.He was accustomed to London lasses who would rush into his arms with the barest hint of indication of his interest, yet here he was in danger of this bluestocking giving him the cut direct.He curled his fingers in the ‘come here’ gesture while giving his best ‘I’m going to freeze to death without you’ expression.
Something worked, as she leaned toward him.He grasped her under her arms, lifted, and before she had a chance to utter more than a startled squeak in protest, settled her sideways on his lap, careful to keep her boots and skirts away from the candle.
He felt her sharp inhale, no doubt to rebuke him, so he quickly wrapped his arms around her and let out a gusty, contented sigh against her neck.“Ah, much better.Thank you, Miss Walden.”
She made a strangled noise, no doubt swallowing her comment, and was silent.After a few moments he felt her relax a fraction.He arranged his coat and her cloak to cover them both to ward off the chill.A few moments later, he felt her slide her arms under his coat, embracing him, and she relaxed enough to rest her cheek against his chest.
While keeping one arm snugly around her waist, he rubbed one hand up and down her back, and said nothing when he felt tiny tremors wrack her body, and then warm dampness on his shirt.He might be a tad overset himself if he’d just spent as much time alone in the dark, in uncertainty, as she had.
Dare he ask her why she had followed him into the tunnel?
Soon.But not just yet.
Before the candle had burned down much farther, she sat up, sniffling.
“I wish I had a handkerchief to offer you,” he quietly said.
“No matter.”She lifted the bottom of her skirt and wiped her eyes and delicately blew her nose, before covering her legs again.
Catching himself staring at her stockings and trim calves, he retrieved another candle stub from his pocket and lit it just before the first candle sputtered out, spent.
“You brought a pocketful of candles?”
“You didn’t?”
“I did not intend to come into the tunnel.”
“Which begs the question…”
“I have been asking myself that for the last … however long we have been stuck in here.”She sat up farther and looked around the cavern, seeing it for perhaps the first time.“It could take hours to move all those.”She stared morosely at the pile of rocks blocking their exit, and her bosom heaved in a distracting deep breath.“Best get back to it.”
Before he could object, she clambered to her feet, shook out her skirts, and marched to the pile and began flinging rocks off to the side.
Vincent lit another candle.Feeling as creaky as an octogenarian, he slowly climbed to his feet.He held still until the cave stopped spinning, then held the candle high and started prowling the edges of the cave, patting the walls here and there, as he heard the rhythmic scrape and clatter of Miss Walden removing rocks from the collapsed entrance.
