We exchange a look—a moment of shared understanding that feels almost intimate. I glance away, suddenly aware of how close we’re standing.
— We should go, I say quickly. Just to check.
— By road or?—
— Through the passage, obviously.
A spark of adventure lights up his eyes, and my heart kicks up a notch.
It’s just the excitement of the historical discovery. Nothing else.
The underground tunnelis larger than I imagined. High enough for us to walk hunched, and wide enough to move side by side. Alistair holds a flashlight, its beam sweeping over old stone walls covered in moss.
— This is incredible, I whisper, running my hand along the wall. To think our ancestors planned to use this every day…
— And that our families spent a hundred and fifty years ignoring each other while being literally connected underground, Alistair adds, dryly.
— The metaphor’s a little too obvious, don’t you think?
He shoots me an amused look.
— What do you mean?
— Two families linked by secret passages they pretend don’t exist? Buried feelings? It sounds like a TV drama.
Alistair laughs, the warm sound echoing off the stone walls.
— Keira McGregor criticizing the narrative structure of her own life. Why am I not surprised?
— I prefer to think of it as analytical insight.
— Of course. Like when you analyzed the situation and decided we should get engaged to solve all your problems?
I bump my shoulder lightly into his, forgetting for a moment my resolve to keep things professional between us.
— It was a perfectly logical plan.
— Mm-hmm. And how’s that logical plan working out?
I don’t know how to answer that. How do I tell him that what was supposed to be a simple façade has turned into something that keeps me up at night? That every time he touches me—even by accident—my body reacts like it’s been waiting for it all its life?
Thankfully, I’m saved by a fork in the tunnel.
— Which way now? Alistair asks.
I study the plan in the glow of his flashlight.
— Right, I think. That should take us directly beneath the main barn on the McGregor estate.
We turn right, and almost immediately, the passage begins to slope upward.
— We’re close, Alistair says. I can feel a draft.
A few meters ahead, the tunnel widens in front of a door. I look up at him, suddenly nervous.
— Do you think it still opens?
— Only one way to find out.
