by Jenna Kernan
The ghostly shape faded into the blackness.
Mary crawled out of bed on the other side, clutching that damned poker again.
‘What the devil is going on here?’ he bit out.
‘The tunnel,’ she whispered.
‘Bloody hell,’ he cursed. ‘You knew about that?’ He pointed at the hole in the wall.
Her eyes widened. Innocence? Or something else? ‘There is a passageway behind the wall,’ she whispered. ‘I thought you knew.’
He grimaced. ‘If I had known, I would never have let you sleep here.’
He reached for his discarded coat and pushed his feet into his shoes.
‘You are going after her?’ Her voice shook.
Fear. She was afraid. A roiling surge of anger ripped through him. His lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl. How dare they terrify his woman? He was going to beat whoever was doing this to a pulp.
She recoiled, staring at him.
Dear God, now she was fearful of him. He fought for control. Remembered who had suffered the last time he let his temper get the best of him and put out a hand. ‘We have to put a stop to this, that is all.’ There, that sounded reasonable.
She put her poker down on the bed and slipped on her robe. ‘The tunnel leads to the chamber above.’ She hesitated. ‘It also runs along behind your room.’
Horrified, he grasped her arm as she was in the process of tying the belt. She looked up at him, startled. ‘Are you telling me you have been in that tunnel?’
She nodded. ‘I discovered it by chance. According to the history book it leads down to the sea caves.’
‘Smugglers,’ he said, as it all became clear. ‘The Beresfords were nothing but a pack of pirates and smugglers in Good Queen Bess’s day. That’s how they gained their wealth and the title.’
She nodded.
‘Manners said the tunnels were closed up. Fallen in.’
‘Apparently not,’ she said drily.
He almost laughed. God, this woman awed him with her pragmatic little comments. ‘Stay here. I am going to put a stop to Jeffrey’s tricks once and for all.’
‘You think it is Jeffrey.’
‘Who else would it be?’
‘Gerald?’ She sounded tentative. ‘There is something odd about that boy.’
‘He went with his mother to visit friends. Jeffrey was to go with them, but changed his mind at the last, Manners told me.’ He pulled on his coat and picked up a candle.
She picked up her poker. ‘I’m coming with you.’
That was all he needed. A woman and, in particular, this woman to look after while he chased down a man who wanted them both dead. ‘No. Wait here.’
She pushed her feet into her slippers. ‘What if he comes back another way? According that history book, there are several entrances.’
The back of his neck prickled at the thought of her being found alone. His chest tightened. He ought to find someone to look after her.
Another shriek issued from the tunnel. The prankster. Or it could be someone in trouble. He didn’t want Mary in harm’s way. If anything happened to her—
‘We are wasting time,’ she said, hefting the poker with a determined look on her face.
She wasn’t going to stay here no matter what he said. Something warm swelled up to fill the hollow space in his chest. He pushed it aside. Now was not the time to examine what it meant. ‘Come if you must, but stay close.’
She nodded her agreement. It would have to do. He picked up the candlestick on the night table and ducked through the wall.
‘That way leads to the chamber above,’ she whispered, pointing.
The sounds were not coming from that direction. He turned the other way. He could not help feeling amazed by the extent of the structure. Whoever had built this had done so quite deliberately. He frowned. Why had no one told him of their existence? They had clearly been well maintained. He would be having a word with Manners very soon. And his steward. It seemed their loyalties did not lie with their new earl.
He could feel Mary walking behind him, hear her light rapid breathing. She was afraid. Of course she was. What was he thinking letting her come with him? What if something happened and he wasn’t able to protect her? A chill crept up from his gut. It wouldn’t be the first time he hadn’t been able to protect the woman in his care. Bile rose in his throat.
He would not let that happen again. He wasn’t a boy and there wasn’t a man who could withstand him. Especially not the puny, effeminate Jeffrey. Mary was safer with him than alone. She had to be.
Ahead, the tunnel branched off in two directions.
He looked back and she hesitated for a moment. ‘That way goes down to the caves.’ She pointed left.
She didn’t sound sure.
He turned right. In seconds they came to a dead end. To his surprise, Mary slipped around him and grabbed the sconce on the blank wall facing them. As she turned it, the wall began to shift.
So that was how it was done.
He held the candle higher, revealing a small room. ‘A priest’s hole.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she whispered, stepping inside. ‘Look.’
He followed her and looked around. The little room was lined with shelves—well, pigeonholes—each one containing a scroll of some kind and there were other shelves holding boxes full of papers.
‘The muniment room,’ he said. ‘So this is where all the old papers are. I wondered why there was so little in my grandfather’s study. No charters. No letters.’ It had been puzzling him for days.
The sound of moaning and rattling chains came from behind them. Mary jumped. He put an arm around her shoulder and realised that for all her brave outward appearance, she was trembling.
‘You should go back,’ he said. ‘Leave Jeffrey to me.’
Her expression turned mulish. ‘I’m coming with you. I intend to give that young man a piece of my mind.’
Bane could not help the smile that formed on his lips at the image of her slicing at the little worm with the edge of her tongue. It would indeed serve him right. Once more they plunged into the tunnel and took the other fork.
At the next corner, the draught blew out his candle. He cursed softly as Mary clutched at his coat. Bane let his eyes adjust, but there really wasn’t any light at all. It was pitch black. Just like the mines he loved. The only way to move forwards was by feel. ‘Keep hold of me,’ he whispered.
The ground began to slope steeply downwards. They were going deeper and deeper into the earth, and the sound of the sea was getting louder. After a while, the floor flattened out. The tunnel must have widened out, too. On his right he could still touch the wall, but to his left, no matter far out he reached, he could feel nothing.
Aware that Mary had a good grasp of his coat-tails, he felt his way forwards, testing the way ahead with his foot before taking a step. He had no wish to tumble down a hole or into the sea.
A light glimmered off to the left. It went out instantly. Even so, it was there just long enough to show they were in a natural cavern.
He turned to face Mary. ‘How much of these caves did that blasted book show?’ he murmured directly into her ear, inhaling the scent that was uniquely her.
‘I didn’t take much notice of the caves,’ she muttered. ‘But I think there was only one leading out to the sea.’
‘We are going back.’
‘What?’
‘We have no light. No weapon. And we have no idea where we are. I am not chasing a will o’ the wisp when I have no hope of catching him.’ He made to step around her to head back the way they had come. His foot slipped off the edge of a rock and slid down. His heart jolted as he came to rest one leg knee-deep in water with Mary clutching his arm. He cursed under his breath, but thanked providence it wasn
’t any deeper. He could have pulled her down with him.
‘Bane,’ she cried out.
‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘You can let go now.’ He scrambled back up the rocks to her side. ‘This is why we have to go back.’
A glowing figure appeared in front of her. ‘Boo!’
Mary screamed.
Bane curse as he looked over her shoulder at what was clearly a person wearing a sheet and carrying a lantern beneath it. ‘Jeffrey, you idiot. What game are you playing?’
‘I am the White Lady,’ the apparition moaned. ‘It is your turn to die.’
Chapter Fourteen
The light grew brighter, blinding Bane until his eyes adjusted. The figure behind the lantern was masked by the glare of the light, but he had no problem making out the pistol pointing at Mary. His stomach fell away.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he growled. ‘Put that thing down before you hurt someone.’
‘Turn around and continue on.’ There was no ghostly voice this time.
‘Gerald,’ Mary exclaimed. ‘Stop this at once.’
Gerald? Now that was a surprise, but she had suspected the younger man.
Gerald laughed and it was an eerie sound that echoed off the cavern walls. ‘Do as you are told. Turn around,’ he said. ‘Bane, you go first. Watch your step, the rocks are slippery.’
‘It would be easier to see if you gave me the light,’ Bane said, hoping the boy would be stupid enough to try it.
‘Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of light in a moment. Walk straight ahead and you will be fine.’
He lifted the lantern higher and Bane was able to make out the path ahead. They came to an outcrop of rock and the path disappeared around it.
‘Stop,’ Gerald commanded.
Bane did so. He reached back to where Mary was holding on to his coat and gave her hand a squeeze, offering comfort, hoping she would realise he was biding his time, waiting for an opportunity that would allow him to deal with this mad man.
His gut clenched. Fear that he would fail Mary, as he had failed his mother. No. He wasn’t a weakling boy held down by a full-grown man. He just needed patience. To wait until the time was right.
‘Against the wall, both of you,’ Gerald ordered.
They shuffled back.
He passed by them, but since he had the pistol shoved against Mary’s chest, Bane could not risk an attack. He could see that the pistol was cocked and the lightest pressure on the trigger would cause it to fire.
And then he was past them. ‘Here.’ He handed Bane a lantern and stepped back. ‘Walk straight ahead.’
‘It seems you have thought of everything,’ Bane said, holding the lantern up.
‘I wasn’t expecting both of you,’ Gerald said. ‘Just Miss Wilding. But this is better. Much better. Don’t try anything, Bane. Miss Wilding will confirm I have my pistol pressed to her neck.’
Mary gasped.
Bane’s blood froze. He stifled a curse. He was going to make this man pay.
The skin across Bane’s back tightened as they headed into yet another narrow tunnel. A draught of cool air blasted through it and when they reached the end and it once more opened out, Bane could see why. This cave led out to open water. He could see the waves washing into the mouth of the cave a few yards away.
They were standing on what looked very much like a quay with a boat lying on its side on a narrow strip of sand. It was tied to a ring set in the rocks.
Judging from the way the seaweed grew up the walls, when the tide came in, where they were standing would be underwater.
‘You weren’t thinking of going for a midnight sail?’ Bane said lightly. ‘I don’t think Miss Wilding is very fond of boats.’
‘You didn’t care about that when you booked her passage from St Ives,’ Gerald said. ‘But actually, no, the only one going sailing is me. You will be staying here.’
He waved the pistol. Bane prepared himself to jump and bring the little worm down.
The pistol steadied on Mary once more and Bane unclenched his fists. He did not want to give advanced notice of his intentions.
‘Miss Wilding,’ Gerald said, ‘would you be so good as to take the lantern from your fiancé?’ His voice dripped with sarcasm.
Bane handed it over, glad to have two free hands, but he didn’t like it that it made Mary an easier target. She looked as pale as a ghost in the lamplight and her eyes, her pretty blue eyes, were large and frightened. He wanted to tell her not to worry, that he would think of something, but he could only give her an encouraging stare.
‘See those chains beside your feet, Bane?’ Gerald continued. ‘The one with the manacles attached.’
Coldness bored into Bane’s gut as he looked at the manacles. ‘I see them.’
‘Kneel and fasten one to your wrist.’
‘No,’ Mary said, her face full of horror. She’d guessed, like Bane had, the purpose of those chains. ‘This is absolute nonsense. Gerald. You cannot do this. Don’t you realise murder is a hanging offence?’
Gerald tittered. ‘What a preachy schoolmarm you are. Just like my tutor, until I found a way to be rid of him.’ He grinned. And the evil in that smiling angelic face made a shiver run down Bane’s back. More than oddness resided in his cousin, he realised.
‘Mary is right,’ Bane said. ‘You can’t get away with this. And when the crime is discovered they will think it was Jeffrey.’
Gerald frowned. ‘Why would they think it was him? Not that they will think it was murder. I have it all planned. They will just think you fell in the sea and drowned. You should have drowned anyway,’ he said, flashing a look of hatred Bane’s way. ‘For years everyone thought the woman and child pulled from the sea the day your mother ran off was you.’
Bane wondered if he should threaten him with Templeton’s expected arrival, but he had the feeling he needed to keep that card close for the moment. ‘Any suspicious death of a peer comes under scrutiny and Jeffrey is the only one who benefits by my death.’
‘Put your hand in that manacle. Now. Or I will shoot Miss Wilding.’
‘And how will Jeffrey explain a bullet wound to the authorities?’
Gerald frowned. The pistol wavered. Then his face cleared. ‘I’ll tell them you shot her to get the money. And when I tried to protect her, you fell in the sea.’
Bane cursed. The lad might not be right in the head, but he had a chillingly cunning mind.
‘Do as I say. Now. Or she dies.’ He lined up the pistol on Mary’s chest. Mary was looking at Bane in mute horror, expecting him to do something. Anything he could do right now would get her killed.
He did not want to put his wrist in that manacle, to willingly chain himself to a wall and leave himself helpless. He felt sick at the thought. But there was no other option, if he was to keep Gerald from firing his weapon. Gritting his teeth, he knelt on the cold hard rock and closed the iron around his wrist.
It was tight, but it wasn’t yet locked.
Gerald grinned as if he’d read his thoughts. He held up the key. ‘Catch it. If you drop it, I will shoot her in the head.’
Cursing inwardly, Bane caught the key and turned it in the lock. His insides rebelled at the sound.
‘You can throw it back,’ Gerald said. ‘Be careful, I wouldn’t like Miss Wilding to suffer for your poor aim.’
‘Let her go, Gerald,’ Bane said. ‘She is a pawn in all of this.’
‘She is a witness.’
Surreptitiously, Bane tugged on the chain. It seemed solidly attached, but that didn’t mean one good hard tug wouldn’t pull it free. ‘She would probably just as soon marry Jeffrey as me. She was only doing it because I forced her.’
Gerald glanced at her.
Bane noticed she’d shifted, moved away fr
om the wall and... Oh God, she still had the damned poker hidden in her skirts. If she tried that, he’d shoot her for certain.
‘You know, Gerald,’ he drawled, ‘if you kill her, the money will be tied up in Chancery for years. Why do you think I didn’t do it? Jeffrey won’t thank you for it.’
‘What?’ The boy faced him. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘If she dies before she marries, the money goes to the Crown.’
‘No. You are wrong.’
‘I can assure you I know what I am talking about. Why else would I offer for her?’
The pain on Mary’s face clawed at his chest, because she believed him. And it wasn’t far off the truth. He would never have given marrying her a thought if it not for the money. He hadn’t wanted to marry anyone. He only wanted justice for his mother.
‘It’s a trick,’ Gerald said, glaring at him. ‘Put your other hand in the manacle.’
‘It is no trick.’
‘Do it,’ Gerald yelled, his voice rising.
The boy was getting anxious. Too anxious. Bane did not want that weapon going off by mistake and injuring Mary. His stomach lurched as he used his chained hand to close the manacle around his other wrist.
Gerald bent and locked it.
Bane lashed out with his foot at the gun as the key turned. He missed. But he managed to knock Gerald’s arm, destroying his aim.
‘Run,’ he yelled.
Damn the woman, she wasn’t listening. In awe and horror, he watched as she swung the poker. It hit Gerald’s wrist. The gun flew out of his hand and skittered across the ledge. Bane willed it to fall into the sea. Dear God, the sea... While they had been bickering, the tide had been coming in. The boat was already afloat.
Gerald howled with pain and rage. He grabbed for Mary, who dodged him.
‘Run, Mary,’ Bane shouted, yanking on the chains, the iron biting into his wrists. ‘Run. Save yourself.’
An agonised look crossed her face, then she turned and fled.
Gerald nursed his wrist for a moment, then picked up the pistol. He turned on Bane. ‘I’ll get her. And I’ll make her marry Jeffrey. And it will be a proper Beresford who inherits the title. Not a bastard. My grandfather never wanted you as his heir.’
