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“To slow those moving through it, prisoners or invaders.”
“Quite clever,” she said nervously as the passage further narrowed. “Does it get wider?” He shook his head. “What is at the end?”
“You will see,” he murmured, stepping in front of her because they could only move in a file now. The small space made her heart beat faster and she began to regret choosing this way.
When her hand squeezed his, he stopped and turned to face her, immediately frowning when he saw how nervous she was.
“We should explore another passage,” he said.
“I am curious to see what is at the end,” she countered.
“You are also nervous. I don’t want you to be afraid.” His voice was soft and comforting, and Bridget knew she was safe with him.
“I want to continue.” When he gave her a dubious look, she smiled. “I was only nervous because I have never been here before.”
He glanced behind him for a moment, then his arm came around her waist. He walked backward.
“Harry?”
“I can find my way even if I cannot see. I know you will feel better if I am facing you.”
She did feel better, and she marveled at how his action immediately made her nerves disappear. With the lantern over their heads, he moved them through the passage until they reached an iron door. She guessed it was a cell and confirmed it when he opened the door.
There was a straw pallet on the floor in the tiny room, and a wooden cup in a corner.
“How old are these?”
“Centuries-old, I believe. This cell was supposed to hold the most dangerous of the prisoners, and when there was someone in, the floor would be covered in oil to slow movement. It would be easy to catch them if they tried to escape.”
Bridget looked down at the smooth stone floor, impressed at how ingenious it was. “Now I see why the passage is very narrow.”
“Yes.” He drew her into the cell to change their positions for the journey out.
They returned to the vestibule, as she referred to it now, and he asked her to choose another archway. She pointed at the one in front and he smiled.
“These three are connected like a maze.” He pointed at the archways on either side of the one she had chosen.
Bridget began to grin. “May I propose a challenge?”
He raised a brow. “What sort of challenge?”
“You know this place well.” She tugged at the lace of her stays. “If you can find me in that maze, then you can have me.”
His eye gleamed in the lamplight. “You have two minutes and then I’ll find you.” She started moving but he caught her wrist and pulled her to him, slowly kissing her as his hand undid her stays. But he did not remove the lace from all the loops. “Now, go.” He whispered, giving her the lantern.
Bridget skipped through the archway, her heart pounding with excitement. She glanced over her shoulder to see him standing still in the fading light. The promise of pleasure quickened Bridget’s steps, and when she reached a corner, she turned, her hand reaching behind her to tug the lace out of the last loops Harry had left. She removed her stays and left them there.
It was cold but her body warmed as she progressed, the thought of Harry’s touch igniting her fire. She paused and set the lantern down before quickly pulling down her petticoat and leaving it there for him to find. Now in only her chemise, stockings, and slippers, she hurried through another corner, then another before stopping.
The wait was long, or rather felt long because her need was growing. Then she heard his footfalls and her heart leaped.
“You left a trail,” he said when he appeared, holding up her stays and petticoat.
“Oh, I did?” she pressed a finger to her temple in mock thought.
He took the lantern from her hand and hung it on a wooden handle above them before dropping her underthings and taking her in his arms, pressing her against the wall.
“I would have found you no matter what, you know.” His voice was hoarse and his body hard. He removed the bandeau that held her hair and sent her bright curls tumbling down her shoulders. “This hair…” He ran his fingers through the locks. “Bridget, I need you.”
