Page 40 of The Viscount of Shadows

He listened, and the sound moved away. “Do you detest rats because you came across them as your living quarters deteriorated? It is a silly question as no one likes rats.”

Claudia shuddered as she removed her hand. “Nothing is worse than awakening to find a rat inches from your face, nibbling on crumbs from your stale bread, practically staring you in the eye.”

“Well, I haven’t heard any rats moving about here since we arrived. I believe we are fine for now. Do not sit over there in the dark. Come and lie next to me. It is cold in here, or is that just me?”

“It’s a little chilly,” she replied.

He could feel her slide in next to him. Claudia lay on her side, facing him. Gratified that she was near, Oliver placed the blanket over her. “So, I ask again, what did you do next after William died tragically?”

With a sigh of resignation, she continued. “I thought I might do what my mother had done when in desperate difficulties, what many women did and, horribly, what many girls had to do and still do to survive. But what did I know of pleasing men? So, I resorted to a little thieving—a wheel of cheese here, a loaf of bread there. We managed, living frugally on the few coins we had left, making plans to find other employment. Perhaps in a factory or mill. But my mother became seriously ill before we could carry the plan out. I swallowed my pride and went to the home Whinstone shared with his wife, the previous Duchess of Watford. To ask for money for my mother.”

“What happened?”

“He was home and refused to see me. I was physically removed from the property and told never to return.”

Oliver frowned. “Miserable bastard, but there is a part you have left out. Danaher factors in here somewhere, does he not?”

Claudia exhaled shakily. “I am exhausted. Let us sleep some more. Then we have to make plans for escaping. No one knows we are here.”

“That is not exactly true. Simpson knows of this place.”

Claudia laid a hand on his forehead. “You are still not well. Your fever could worsen. We cannot stay. You heard those men. Danaher will tear The Piggeries apart just because he can. And yes, Danaher fits into my story, but I cannot manage revealing it now.”

Oliver took her hand away from his forehead and squeezed it gently. “Then, later.”

“And you will tell me about The Sentinel?” she whispered.

“Yes, whatever you wish to know.” He leaned in as much as he was able and kissed her forehead. He was still holding her hand when he fell asleep.

Oliver awoke abruptly as Claudia gently shook him. “Are you well? You were groaning in your sleep. Are you in pain?”

Is he? God, his mouth was dry as a crust. “Water,” he croaked.

He could hear Claudia searching in the dark for the water jug. She cursed when it fell over. Thankfully, it had a screw top so none could leak out.

“Found it. Should I light the lamp?” Claudia whispered.

“No. We must save the oil.” Oliver tried to sit up, and a roll of pain tore through his side. Another thing he neglected to pack in his medical kit was willow bark or even that new aspirin powder Doctor Drew Hornsby told him about. Again, he never imagined being stuck down here for hours or days.

Claudia came in close. “Just lift your head; do not try to sit upright.”

He felt the rim of the jar touch his cheek and turned his head to drink. Oliver took two large swallows and then pushed the container away.

“Take some more,” Claudia urged.

“No. I’m fine.”

“I wonder how much time has passed,” Claudia mused as she screwed the top on the jar. “I napped more than slept.”

“I kept you awake. I do apologize.”

“It is understandable, considering your injury. You never answered me. Are you in pain?”

“It is not so bad if I lay still. It comes and goes. I ache all over, though, probably from the slight fever. I do not feel any worse, so that is a good sign. But who knows, I am not well versed in medical matters.”

“You should try and sleep some more. It is good for recovery, or so I’ve read.”

“I am wide awake now.”