“Well, done might be optimistic,” Poppy admitted. “We don’t know what’s on the other side of that door.”
“No matter. Anything is better than the cave. A dragon is better than the cave.” He smiled at her. “Good thing I had a St George.” He offered the blindfold back, saying, “You got us to an exit. I’m going to kiss you.”
Before she could say a word, he did. Poppy felt his mouth on hers and nearly swooned with the sudden wash of emotions, compounded by the sheer mental strain of the last hour. His arms were tight around her, supporting her, keeping her from losing her footing. And he was wonderfully warm, like a cocoon against the cold, dark world of the caves.
Poppy opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, her whole body sparking into life in reaction to him. Yes, this was worth all the waiting and questioning from before. If he was holding her like this now, he must feel something for her.
“Carlos,” she whispered, “This is all very nice, but maybe if you want to keep kissing me, we should go somewhere warmer? And possibly less cavernous?”
His lips curved into a smile. When the kiss ended, she held the ghost of his laugh in her throat.
“It’s a mark of your allure, querida, that my desire for you is overriding my fear of this place.” After a moment, he tied the ribbon around her waist again, his hands nearly burning a hole in the dress as they lingered on her. “I have more to say on that subject, but now’s not the time. Let’s get out of this little hell.”
Heading up the rough steps, he leaned on the door and let it open a bit. All was quiet, so he opened it all the way and stepped out.
He took a huge breath, and then another. “God, it’s wonderful to be out of there!”
Poppy looked around the dim space curiously, seeing only barrels and crates and sacks. It smelled of malt and bread. “This is wonderful? Where are we?”
“A storeroom of some sort?”
“A basement, to judge by the damp.” Then Poppy pointed. “Over there! There’s a door, and a crack of light underneath. Maybe it leads somewhere better than this.”
They moved toward the door, and Carlos opened it carefully. Poppy peeked out from behind him, startled to see a figure she recognized cross the hall some distance away.
Carlos shut the door quickly.
“I know that man!” Poppy whispered. “That’s Daveth, one of the footmen!”
“Holy Mother,” he muttered. “We’re in the basement of Pencliff Towers.”
Poppy shook her head, as though that could change the truth. And after a moment, the shock faded a bit. Was it really so odd that a pathway went from the house to the caves? After all, there’d been a residence here for hundreds of years, and Cornwall had a long, long history of using the vast cave networks that were part of the landscape.
But still, it was very alarming to think that someone could sneak into the house itself using this secret door. Worse, it didn’t look as if there was any way to bolt it. A person would have to slide a heavy object across the trapdoor to block access.
“Do you think the Towers know about this passageway?” she asked.
He snorted. “You’d have to be in a coma not to. This storeroom is holding food that’s destined for the kitchen upstairs. This place gets used.”
“But Mr. Towers would never permit this.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know,” Carlos admitted. “But someone does.”
Then he looked sharply at a stack of crates in the far corner. “Poppy, look. The writing on those boxes.”
Poppy hurried over. “It looks the same as the ones we saw the other night. These are the same crates.”
Carlos joined her, and worked fast to lift the lid of one box. Inside, nestled in the straw just as before, was the opium.
Chapter 15
“What are we going to do?” Poppy whispered, her eyes wide.
“About the opium? Well, this to start.” He pocketed one round disc. “I’ll use this as evidence that I’m not imagining the whole thing. I’m going to talk to someone who can do something about it. But before I do, we need to figure out how to get out of this place unseen. If anyone suspects that you or I know about that door…”
“Oh, say it. Secret tunnel!” Poppy said, excitement overriding her fear. “We’re in a gothic novel! How marvelous is that?”
“Are you feeling well? It’s not marvelous. There are people who would kill us over this. I can name some of them.”
