Page 14 of Her Tempestuous Duke

“Get out of here, you unnatural creature.” Lord Anthony’s voice reached her as a hatch in the door slid open, and the parrot swooped out. Caliban growled, and the hatch was closed instantly. Minerva pressed against the wall as the flustered Ariel swept past, but his flight extinguished her light. The pitch-dark stairwell became a place of haunting chill and horrid imaginings.

“If only we could poison the master as well as the beast. But I doubt our captor would be tempted by a dead rat.”

Why was Pascoe talking about poison? He must still be drunk, surely, if he was thinking of poisoning poor Caliban. The dog only did what his master commanded. And did Pascoe carry poison about his person? No—he could have no reason for it.

She held her breath, listening intently.

“We needn’t kill the dog.” Thank heavens! Lord Anthony spoke with the cool voice of reason. “We need to bait it, make it set up a ruckus which will bring the mad hermit who’s imprisoned us running.”

Mad hermit? Lord Anthony spoke as if he didn’t know Parys.

“Besides which, we cannot be sure that this lichen of yours is truly Vulpicida. It might just dye the dog’s tongue yellow.”

“And the rat may be too long dead to tempt the animal, my lord.” That was their footman, George, speaking. They were all in on the plot, then. But desperate men sought desperate remedies, didn’t they? Would she behave like that in the same situation? If threatened, perhaps.

But Parys wasn’t threatening them—he merely detained them. For now. If she had any hope of persuading him to be merciful, the prisoners must behave themselves. Perhaps, when she gave them the blankets, they’d think more kindly of Parys.

“George—we can leave nothing to chance. As soon as the fiend comes down to see what’s amiss with his dog, use that rock to best advantage. Then, if the man dies, we can claim that we acted in fear of our lives.”

Shock and betrayal numbed her. She must stop this madness at once before it went too far! She stepped forward, forgetting the remaining stairs, and tumbled down with a scream.

Caliban filled his chest and emitted an ungodly howl.

A door was flung open above, and she heard footsteps. As she struggled to rise and warn Parys, she realized she’d just created the deadly diversion she’d been hoping to prevent.

Chapter Eight

Parys’ heart was in his mouth as he staggered down the spiral stairway in response to Miss Harte’s scream. Of all the moments for his malaise to come upon him! Cursing all the powers on earth, he ricocheted from wall to wall in the darkness, grabbing at the central pillar more than once to avoid a neck-breaking fall.

He only slowed as he reached the bottom, realizing he might be about to thrust himself headlong into danger. But that didn’t matter—what had they done to Minerva? He should never have sent her down alone. If they’d harmed her, mistaking her for him, they’d feel the full force of his wrath.

Caliban pressed a wet muzzle into his palm, whining softly.

“Prospero?”

Minerva’s voice. She was safe. He could breathe again.

“Stop calling me Prospero. My name is Parys.” The jest no longer amused him. More than anything, he wanted to hear his real name on her lips.

He gave himself an inward shake. “What happened?”

There was a moment’s silence. He reached for her in the darkness to reassure himself that she was unhurt, and fastened his fingers around her wrist. Then clung to it like a drowning man clutches a spar.

“What happened to your candle?” His strength was returning, little by little, thanks to his sorrel and elderberry potion, but he was still no match for Anthony.

“Ariel had found his way into the cell, and they pushed him out. He extinguished my light as he flew past. Caliban was wrong to raise the alarm—they’ve done nothing wrong. I was about to see if I could push the blankets through the hatch to them.”

Despite the pounding of his heart in his ears, he could tell she had raised her voice. So that those within the dungeon could hear? Was it a warning of some kind? His jaw stiffened.

Still clasping her wrist with one hand, he dropped to one knee and felt about for her candle.

“Don’t move. I have a tinder box in my pocket—I don’t want there to be any… accidents.” He, too, spoke loud enough for the prisoners to hear.

After a moment, light flickered around the walls of the dank passageway. Minerva failed to meet his inquiring gaze. Caliban remained on the alert, staring at the closed door. There was a silence from beyond it that spoke louder than words.

He released her and pressed his cheek against the oak panels, speaking through the hatch.

“It was foolish of you to open this for Ariel—if my accursed parrot has managed to find his own way in, then he can find his own way out. You quite upset Miss Harte, who was bringing you blankets.”