AllFreeNovel
Share Us
e assured she'd done herself no permanent injury, crawled to her feet and felt around until her hand brushed against stone. It only took a moment for her to realize she'd found the edge of the fireplace. Averill set her hand flat on the rock at the top of the mantel, trailed her fingers over one block, then two, but paused at the third to feel around for the tiny indentation at the bottom. Sighing her relief when she found it, Averill pulled on it, the breath whooshing from her when the wall before her slid away, sending a gust of damp and dusty air puffing into her face.
Wrinkling her nose at the smells of age, cobwebs, and mildew, she hesitated and peered into this new kind of darkness. The yawning darkness before her was so silent and still she could almost believe there was a whole pack of rats or some other nasty creatures in the tunnel ahead, holding their breath to see if she would enter.
Feeling a shudder run down her back at the thought, Averill decided that was most unhelpful thinking and forced herself to move forward into the tunnel. She then turned right toward the room Kade was occupying. He happened to be in a room Averill had used as a playroom as a child. She had often made this journey and thought she knew the way by heart. However, as a child, she'd never done so without a candle, and now thought she must have been much smarter then.
The floor in Averill's room was covered with fresh-smelling rushes that were changed when necessary. The floor in the tunnel was not, and she grimaced at the gritty feel of the dirt and detritus that had gathered over time as it ground into her feet. It made her wish she'd taken the trouble to dress after all. At least then she would have thought to don shoes as well.
Averill no sooner had the thought than she set her foot down on something that was neither stone nor dirt. It was soft under her heel and--with visions of dead rats in mind, or possibly even live ones--she squealed and scampered forward willy-nilly for several feet before realizing how foolish that was and forcing herself to a halt. Standing completely still, she waited for her heart to stop racing, her ears straining for any little scampering sounds that might tell her what she'd encountered. When nothing but the sound of her own breathing reached her ears, she bit her lip and tried to work out how far she might have run.
Had she passed the entrance to Kade's room? Surely she'd not gone that far? Damn! She had no idea where she was now.
Chapter Six
"Did you hear that?"
Kade raised his eyebrows at Will's question. They had been sitting talking quietly in his room since coming above stairs after celebrating Lord Mortagne's acceptance of his proposition to marry Averill. Will seemed pleased at the coming union, and Kade was feeling rather pleased himself. He liked the girl, he enjoyed talking to her, thought she was attractive, and--now that he knew she wasn't the sweet, weak flower he'd thought--was happy to take her to wife. Any lass who had survived a childhood of cold baths to cool her temper should have no problem with a Scottish winter.
"It sounded like..."
"A squealing pig?" Kade suggested, his gaze moving to the wall where the sound had seemed to come from.
"Aye," Will muttered, and moved to the wall.
Kade watched curiously as he stopped beside the mantel and counted several rocks over. He did something to a stone and eased the wall open a crack.
"What--?" Kade began, but paused when the other man raised a hand for silence. He then got to his feet and moved toward the wall when Will paused to listen, a frown cresting his face. He was next to Will before he heard the voice coming from the crack in the wall. He listened briefly, stiffening when he recognized Averill's voice. She appeared to be talking to someone. Kade had just deduced that she was muttering to herself about never finding his room, or her own for that matter and being lost in the walls forever when Will eased the wall closed.
"What're ye doin'? Averill is lost in there," Kade muttered, pushing on the wall and frowning when it didn't move.
"I thought you would want me to leave first," Will explained. "She obviously wishes to speak to you."
The Englishman turned back toward the wall and reached for the rock he'd touched earlier to open the door, and Kade quickly caught his arm. "Aye. Mayhap ye'd best leave. She may wish to talk about the weddin' and may be embarrassed does she ken ye know o' her creepin' around in the night."
Will nodded, then gestured to the rock he'd fiddled with the first time he'd opened the door. "There is a lever at the bottom. Pull it up, and the door will open."
Kade nodded, then waited until Will slipped out of the room before turning back to the wall to find the lever in question. Kade pulled on it and the door slid open a few inches. He paused at the sound of Averill's continued mumbling and pushed it all the way open and stepped into the tunnel. He'd expected to see her coming his way, a candle in hand. What he saw was a dark so thick it could have been a cloth over his eyes. The tunnel was also suddenly deathly quiet. He couldn't even hear her breathe.
"Averill?" he said.
"Kade?" The name came out on a whoosh of relief, and he heard the patter of her feet as she rushed forward. She threw herself at him and hugged him briefly. Kade didn't even get the chance to raise his arms to hug her back before she overcame her relief and gratitude, recalled herself, and stepped back with an apology.
"I am sorry, my lord. 'Tis just I feared I would be stuck in here wandering the tunnels forever like some horrible ghost." She paused suddenly and raised sharp eyes to his face. "How did you know to open the tunnel?"
"I heard ye squeal, lass," he said easily.
"Aye, but how did you know--"
"Ye told me about the tunnels that first night I woke," he interrupted.
"Oh, aye," she muttered, and didn't seem to notice that he hadn't really answered her question. She appeared too eager to get inside to worry about it and slipped past him into the room with a little sigh of relief.
Kade followed, pulling the tunnel door closed. Dear God she was a mess. Cobwebs caught in her hair, smudges of dirt on her face and chemise--a very thin, almost gossamer chemise that left little to the imagination, he noted, then forced his eyes away as she turned to face him.
Averill was wringing her hands anxiously, her face screwed up with worry, and then she blurted, "Bess told me that you have spoken to my father about marrying me."
Kade stiffened, but nodded. "Aye. Diya no wish to marry me, lass?"
"Nay," she said quickly. "I mean nay, 'tis not that I do not wish it," she explained impatiently, then added, "But you may not once you know the truth."
He felt his eyebrows rise at her words. "What truth would that be?"
She hesitated, looking completely miserable and really quite adorable with the smudges on her face. "That I am ugly, my lord."
Kade felt himself relax. For a moment he'd worried there was something he didn't know. That even Will didn't know about to tell him--a tendre she held for someone, or a past indiscretion perhaps. He was relieved to know it was nothing like that, just her belief that she was ugly, one instilled in her by others over the years...and all because of foolish superstitions.
He'd decided this evening that once they were married he would have to make an effort to build up her self-esteem and convince her that what those other suitors had said wasn't true. It appeared, however, that he would have to do that sooner rather than later. To that end, he cleared his throat, then said, "Yer no ugly."
Averill stared up at the ever-so-sweet man before her and sighed unhappily. She should have known this would happen. He couldn't see her and perhaps didn't wish to believe that what she said was true. She rather wished it wasn't true herself. However, it was, and she'd not allow the man to marry her without first understanding what he was getting.
"'Tis kind of you to say so, and I do appreciate it," she assured him gently, then pointed out, "Howbeit you cannot see properly and so, of course, cannot see how my hair is an ugly orange, or--"
"I can see yer hair," he growled. "'Tis no orange. 'Tis a mixture o' blonde and red. I like it."
She blinked in surprise, t
hen realized that he might actually see her hair. He had said his vision was blurry, but that did not affect color. "Really?" she asked finally. "You like my hair?"
He scowled, but nodded, and then--looking exceedingly uncomfortable--added, "It puts me in mind o' a late-summer sunset."
Her eyes went wide at the words. No one had ever described her hair so nicely. A soft smile played about her lips for a moment, but then she sighed, and said, "Mayhap you do not mind the color, but I also apparently have no breasts to speak of."
"Ye--What?" he asked with disbelief, and his eyes lowered to her chest, narrowing in an effort to see them better. Judging by the bewilderment on his face, he could no better see them now than he had all week. "What the devil are ye talking about woman? Ye've breasts."
Averill flushed at the disgruntled claim. "Well, aye, I have them, but not bosomy breasts."
"Bosomy?" he asked with confusion.
"You know..." She held her hands before her own small breasts as if holding great, heavy melons, and repeated, "Bosomy breasts. Big, womanly ones."
When his expression didn't change one iota, she tried to think of another way to explain, then brightened and said, "They are like plums compared to melons, my lord. Not completely flat, but not large either."
"Plums are nice," he muttered, his gaze still locked on her breasts.
Realizing he still wasn't comprehending, Averill pondered how she was to make it clear to him when he could not see properly. She worried her lip briefly, then recalled how Lord Seawell had groped her and reached for one of Kade's hands. While Lord Seawell's groping had earned him a punch in the nose, he was not suffering vision problems and it did seem to her that if Kade could not see them, she would just have to show him. 'Twas better an uncomfortable moment or two now than years of suffering his bitter regret later.
"What--?" Kade began, then seemed to almost choke on the next word as she raised his hand and pressed it against one small breast.
"You see?" she asked unhappily, trying to ignore the strange tingling that had suddenly started in the breast his hand covered. "They are rather small. At least Lord Seawell seemed to think so. I had never noticed it myself. I mean, I did not think them large, but they are not the smallest in the keep, and--" She paused on a sigh. "Lord Seawell seemed to think them lacking, and I would not have you marry me without knowing their size and complaining later."
