Quick, Amanda

by Reckless (lit)

Phoebe set the candle carefully down on the edge of the quay. Then she unfastened the tapes of her gown and removed her ruffled chemisette.

  Dressed in only her chemise, she sat down and slid her legs cautiously into the dark, cold water. For an instant raw terror gripped her as her feet disappeared into the black depths. She had no way of knowing what creatures made their home beneath the surface.

  It took more courage than she had known she possessed to drop down into the water. The last flicker of the candle was a definite inspiration. When the frail light vanished, Phoebe's only thought was to get to the wedge of daylight that awaited her up ahead.

  She struck out, swimming strongly at first toward the beacon in the distance.

  She was horrified at how quickly her energy diminished in the cold water. By the time she was half-

  way to her goal, she was gasping for air and praying for strength. Her weak left leg was tiring rapidly.

  It seemed to take forever to reach the cavern entrance. It was as if the water were deliberately trying to pull her down beneath the surface. Phoebe began to swim mechanically, like a clockwork toy. She dragged air into her lungs with every other stroke and used her fear of the invisible depths to propel her legs.

  When her fingers scrabbled painfully against barnacle-encrusted rock, she nearly collapsed with relief. Gasping for air, she clutched fiercely at the rock and gazed eagerly out into the sunlight, hoping for a glimpse of the nearby shore.

  It was then she realized that she had only completed a portion of her journey. The hidden cavern entrance jutted several yards out from the shoreline. No one would see her from the cliffs if she stayed where she was. Her cries for help would not be audible above the roar of the waves.

  She would have to swim to the rocky beach.

  Phoebe clung to her perch a moment longer, telling herself that at least she was in the sun now. It was not quite so cold. And there was only a short distance to go.

  If only she were not so exhausted. If only she could rest longer.

  But she did not dare hesitate. The water seemed to be getting colder in spite of the sunlight pouring down on her. She could only pray she had enough strength to swim the rest of the way.

  "Gabriel," she whispered as she struck out toward shore, "where the devil are you when I need you?"

  Chapter 14

  "Where the devil is she?" Gabriel roared.

  Rollins, the butler, wavered under fire but did not collapse. "I regret to inform you, sir, that I do not know where Lady Wylde is at the moment. The last I knew, she was in the library, as is her custom at this hour."

  "And at every other hour," Gabriel muttered. Lately Phoebe seemed to spend every spare minute hiding from him in the damned library. "Assemble the staff immediately."

  "Yes, my lord."

  Within minutes the staff was clustered in the main hall. No one knew where Phoebe was. Everyone agreed that she had most recently been ensconced in the library. The last time anyone had actually seen her had been nearly two hours earlier.

  Gabriel fought down his rising uneasiness and the fear that lay beneath it. Nothing was ever accomplished by giving way to strong emotion, he reminded himself. "I want every inch of the castle and the grounds searched at once. Rollins, you will direct the staff. I will take the cliffs. We will meet back here in an hour."

  "Yes, my lord." Rollins hesitated. "Forgive me, sir, but do you believe that something dreadful has happened?"

  "She has probably gone for a stroll and gotten lost," Gabriel said, not believing his own words for a minute. "She does not know the countryside around here. Start the search at once."

  "Yes, my lord."

  Gabriel headed out the front door and down the steps. Driven by a terrible restlessness, he strode through the courtyard and out through the castle gates.

  She had promised she would not run from him again.

  Gabriel reached the cliffs and stood gazing down at the rocks and driftwood that cluttered the narrow strip of beach. Surely if she had gone for a walk she would have stayed up here on the cliffs. She would not have tried to climb down to the water's edge.

  But Phoebe was unpredictable. She was also capable of taking great risks. He still shuddered whenever he recalled how and where he had first met her. At midnight on a lonely country lane, for God's sake. The woman was a menace to herself.

  When he found her, he was going to put her on a very short rein. He had had enough of this nonsense.

  Enough of this gut-wrenching fear.

  He forced himself to calm down and recall the color of the gown Phoebe had been wearing that morning. It had been a rather glaring shade of citron yellow. With a ruffled chemisette. She had looked very bright and cheerful in it.

  Not at all like a woman who was plotting to run away from her husband.

  Gabriel started walking along the cliff edge. He would not allow himself to believe she had run off until he had exhausted every other possibility.

  He frowned as he caught a glimpse of white on the water-lashed rocks. For a moment he thought it was the reflection of sunlight on sea foam. Then the patch of white moved, heaving itself higher up onto the rocks. Pale legs and arms and a tangle of wet, dark hair spilled over the stone.

  Phoebe.

  Gabriel's stomach went cold. For an instant he wondered if the little fool had gone swimming. Then he realized she was fighting for her life in the churning surf.

  "Phoebe. Hold on. I'm coming for you," he shouted, plunging down the cliff path, heedless of skittering pebbles and shifting sand. He jumped the last few feet, landed on the beach, and splashed into the thigh-deep water.

  "Phoebe. For God's sake."

  The tangle of drenched hair moved as he waded toward her. Phoebe turned her head, her cheek pillowed against the barnacles. She clung to the rock, half in and half out of the water. Her eyes opened partway and she smiled with a soul-deep weariness.

  "I knew you would come eventually, Gabriel."

  "Hell and damnation, what are you doing down here?" Gabriel lifted her off the rock and cradled her in his arms. Her wet chemise was virtually transparent. He could see the dusky flowers of her nipples as clearly as if she were nude. "Where are your clothes? What in bloody hell has happened?"

  "Went looking for you." Her voice was frighten-ingly weak. She lolled in his arms like a rag doll. Her eyes fluttered shut.

  "Phoebe, open your eyes." Gabriel heard the rough edge of fear in his voice. "Open your eyes at once and look at me."

  Obediently she lifted her lashes. "Why? I am safe now, am I not?"

  "Yes," he whispered as he carried her up onto the tiny beach. "You are safe."

  She had not run from him.

  An hour later Phoebe lay propped up against the pillows in her bed. Under Gabriel's supervision she had been immersed in a warm bath and fed endless cups of hot tea. He had not been satisfied until the color had returned to her lips and cheeks.

  When she had started to resist the tea and complain about the fussing that was going on around her, he knew she was all right. He sent the last of the maids from the room with a curt command.

  He had almost lost her. The terrible weight of that fact gnawed at his insides, making him short-tempered and edgy. He had almost lost Phoebe.

  He forced his seething emotions back under control. It was an almost impossible task. He used a blanket of anger to contain everything else he was feeling, including the fear.

  "Now, then, madam wife," he said as the door closed behind the last maid, "perhaps you would care to explain what the devil happened to you today? What was all that nonsense about looking for me?"

  She patted away a tiny yawn. "Alice said you had sent for me."

  "Who is Alice?"

  "One of the maids."

  "Which maid?"

  Phoebe stared at him from beneath drooping lashes. "Well, I really don't know. I thought I was acquainted with all the staff by now, but this is such a huge place and there are so many names and faces to learn."


  "Describe her," Gabriel said abruptly.

  "She had pale blond hair and a rather pretty face. I remember thinking she seemed a little old to still be a housemaid. One would have thought she would be at least a chambermaid by now."

  Gabriel was very still. "What did this Alice tell you?"

  "That you wished to meet me downstairs in the lower part of the castle. She said you were waiting down there to show me the catacombs." Phoebe paused. "I was very excited."

  "She took you down there? Showed you the way?"

  Phoebe nodded. "But we could not find you. Alice was getting nervous, so I sent her back and continued along the passageway on my own. Then the most awful accident occurred."

  "What accident?"

  "A massive iron gate slid out of the wall and sealed the passageway. I was trapped on the other side. I could hear no sounds of rescue and assumed no one could get the gate open. So I looked for another exit."

  "And found the secret quay?" Gabriel was incredulous. "Damnation. You swam all the way out of the cavern and back to the shore?"

  "I really did not see an alternative at the time."

  Gabriel's jaw clenched. "Where the devil did you learn how to swim?"

  Phoebe smiled slightly. "Once when I was very little I jumped into the pond at our country estate. It was a very hot day and I wanted to cool off as Anthony and his friends were doing. Anthony had to pull me out of the water. Mama said that he had better teach me how to swim, as there was no telling when I would take it into my head to jump back into the pond."

  "Thank God for your mama," Gabriel muttered.

  "Remember that when she asks for a loan to cover her gaming losses," Phoebe said dryly.

  Gabriel scowled. "What is this about gaming losses?"

  "Didn't I tell you?" Phoebe yawned again. "Mama is very fond of cards. She tends to view her sons-in-law as potential bankers."

  "Good God."

  "I would have warned you about Mama's passion for gaming before you offered for my hand if you had had the courtesy to consult me before you consulted Papa."

  Gabriel smiled briefly. "So it's all my own fault if I end up having to cover your mother's losses?"

  "Yes, my lord, it is." Phoebe was thoughtful for a moment. "Do you know, I believe it would be best if we did not mention this unfortunate incident to the members of my family. It would only alarm them and I seem to do that often enough as it is."

  "I won't tell them about it, if that is your wish."

  She flashed him a relieved smile. "Thank you. May I go to sleep now?"

  "Yes, Phoebe. You may go to sleep." Gabriel moved away from the window and went to stand at the foot of the bed.

  "You have an odd expression on your face, Gabriel. What are you going to do while I sleep?"

  "Find the missing Alice."

  Phoebe lowered her lashes and snuggled down into the pillows. "What will you do when you find her?"

  "At the very least, I shall turn her off without a reference," Gabriel said.

  Phoebe opened her eyes very wide. "That would be most cruel, sir. She would be unlikely to find work at her age without a proper reference."

  "She may consider herself fortunate if I do not summon the magistrate and press charges. As far as I am concerned, she very nearly got you killed."

  Phoebe looked up at him, her gaze intent. "Are you saying you did not send her to summon me this afternoon, my lord?"

  "No, Phoebe," Gabriel said gently. "I did not."

  "I see." She looked very forlorn. "I was afraid of that. I was rather hoping you had sent her to fetch me, you know. I thought it meant … "

  He frowned. "What did you think it meant?"

  "That you wanted to tear down the wall that you have put between us."

  "I did not put the wall between us, Phoebe. You did. It is up to you to tear it down." He walked to the side of the bed and tugged the quilt up over her shoulders. "Get some rest, my dear. I shall have your dinner sent up to you."

  "Gabriel?"

  "Yes, Phoebe?"

  "Thank you for saving me." Phoebe gave him a misty smile. "I knew you would."

  "You saved yourself, Phoebe," he said. The stark reality of that fact was going to be with him for the rest of his life. He had almost lost her. "If you had stayed in the passageway, it might have been a very long time before I thought to look for you down there. I have standing orders that no one is to go down into the catacombs unless I accompany him or her. The door is always kept locked."

  She gave him a searching glance. "Then why would Alice take me down there?"

  "An excellent question, my dear. I shall not rest until I discover the answer."

  Gabriel walked out of the room and closed the door quietly behind himself. Out in the hall he summoned Phoebe's maid.

  "Stay with her while she sleeps," he instructed. "I do not want her left alone even for a moment."

  "Yes, my lord. Is madam all right?"

  "She will be fine. But do not leave her side until I return."

  "Yes, my lord."

  Gabriel went quickly down the stairs. He found Rollins hovering in the main hall.

  "Is madam all right now?" Rollins asked anxiously.

  "Yes. Bring Alice the housemaid to me at once."

  Rollins looked uncertain. "Alice?"

  "Blonde, rather pretty, and rather old to still be in her position."

  "I do not believe we have an Alice on staff, my lord. But I shall check with Mrs. Crimpton."

  "Do that. I shall be at the foot of the steps that lead down into the catacombs."

  "Yes, my lord."

  Gabriel collected a candle from the library and walked to the far end of the great hall. He descended the narrow, twisting stairs and stopped short when he saw that the heavy door at the bottom was locked.

  Ten minutes later Rollins returned. His face was very sober. "There is no housemaid named Alice, sir."

  Gabriel felt another chill run through him. "There was a woman in this house today who claimed her name was Alice and that she worked here."

  "I regret to say, sir, that I do not know of her. May I ask why you are looking for her?"

  "Never mind. I am going into the catacombs." Gabriel took the key down from the wall hook.

  "Perhaps I should accompany you, sir."

  "No, Rollins. I would rather you stayed up here and kept an eye on things."

  Rollins drew himself up. "Yes, my lord."

  Gabriel opened the heavy door and stepped into the dark stone passageway. The candlelight revealed two sets of footsteps in the dust on the floor. Someone had definitely accompanied Phoebe into this tunnel. Someone who had claimed her name was Alice.

  Gabriel strode swiftly along the passage, following the footsteps. When he saw the iron gate blocking his path up ahead, he set his back teeth. The thought of Phoebe being trapped on the other side and obliged to risk her life swimming to freedom enraged him anew.

  He forced his anger back under control and reached down into his boot for the knife he always carried there. He seemed to have need of it rather frequently since meeting Phoebe.

  Gabriel inserted the tip of the blade between two stones in the wall and tripped the hidden lever housed there. A moment later a secret panel in the wall opened up to reveal the mechanism that operated the gate. The gate itself was opened and closed by pushing on certain stones in the passageway.

  Gabriel studied the ancient pulley arrangement. The wheels and chains were all in excellent working order. He, himself, had spent hours down here tinkering with the machine after he had discovered the secret of the gate.

  He had taken great satisfaction in getting the old mechanism functioning again. He had even been inspired to insert a similar hidden mechanism into A Reckless Venture. It was a pity his mysterious editor and publisher had not had an opportunity to read his latest manuscript. She might have recognized the device and remembered the secret.

  Gabriel had taken pains to ensure that all the members of his staff knew how
to open and close the gate. Although he had given orders that no one was to explore the passageways without him, he'd had enough experience of human nature to know he could not depend on everyone following instructions. He had not wanted anyone to get accidentally trapped down here on the wrong side of the gate.

  Everyone in the castle knew how the gate worked except Phoebe. The mysterious Alice could have learned the secret from a footman or a stable lad.

  But why would she want to terrorize Phoebe? Gabriel wondered as he raised the gate. It made no sense.

  The iron gate clanged and groaned as it slowly-slid back into position in the wall. Gabriel walked down the remainder of the passageway until he came to the hidden quay.

  The sight of Phoebe's crumpled citron-colored gown and the burned-out candle sitting beside it filled him with a helpless, smoldering rage. He stared at the black water that lapped against the stone and thought about Phoebe sliding into it. He knew many stalwart men who would have been paralyzed with fear in such a situation.

  His reckless lady had the courage of a valiant knight.

  And he had very nearly lost her.

  The water was sucking at her, trying to pull her under. A curse on he who would steal this book. May he drown beneath the waves. Phoebe swam harder, kicking out frantically in a desperate effort to avoid the darkness behind her and the black depths below. She was surrounded by an endless night. Her only hope was the slip of light up ahead. She had to reach it. But the water was tugging at her, hampering her, trying to trap her.

  Just when she thought she could not swim another stroke, a man's hand reached out of the darkness. She was about to grasp it when she saw the hand of another man reaching for her. Both men promised safety. One was lying.

  Phoebe knew she had to choose. If she made the wrong choice, she would die.

  She came awake to the fading echo of her own scream.

  "Phoebe. Wake up. Open your eyes." Gabriel's voice was harsh with command. His hands closed tightly around her shoulders. He gave her a small, impatient shake. "You're dreaming. For God's sake, woman, wake up. That's an order. Do you hear me?"

  Phoebe surfaced from the last remnants of the dream. She realized she was in bed. Moonlight poured through the window. Gabriel, dressed in a black silk dressing gown, was sitting beside her. His face was stark in the pale light.