My Lady Ghost

by June Calvin

  “Hard to believe, but I suppose even such closely laid stones can part.” Thorne hung the lantern from the nearest wall sconce and then joined her, running his hands along the stone.

  Slowly, carefully they went over the area inch by inch. They could see some promising-looking broken stones and too-regular cracks, but Thorne's efforts to convert these into a hidden door were in vain, even using the chisel and crowbar he had brought with him.

  They stopped while he replaced the candle in the lantern. “I told you the castle wouldn’t give up its secrets easily, else the treasure would have long since been found. Where is that confounded ghost?”

  “Perhaps we are looking in the wrong place.”

  “Oh, do you suppose so?” He raised his brows in mock astonishment.

  “I can’t understand why she would lead us here, and then ... Wait! She’s here again, practically on top of us.” Allison watched as the ghost held up her hand, pointing, and then making a pulling motion. Then she melted into the side of the tunnel.

  “Here! Allison moved to the exact spot where the Silver Lady had stood. “She reached up, like this, and pulled at something with her fingers just before she disappeared.” Allison mimicked the Lady’s actions.

  Thorne’s eyes caressed her figure. “Is she as shapely as you?”

  “Thorne!” Allison dropped her arms and tilted her head back to examine the wall above her head.

  “Do that again,” he commanded.

  “Behave yourself!”

  “That would be a dead bore.” Mischief gleamed in his eyes. “But I am serious, Allie. Stretch your arms up again.”

  She did so, sure that he would put his arms around her and steal a kiss, but instead he began examining the wall sconce just beyond her fingertips.

  “Did she touch that ring hanging just below it?”

  Allison squinted. “I don’t see a ring.”

  “It is all but invisible for the rust, ashes, and tallow covering it.” Thorne took her place and began cleaning the sconce with his knife so that they could examine it. A metal ring hung from the bottom of the sconce. The hole in it was small, too small for him to insert a finger. “Would you say that you are about her height ?”

  “Almost exactly.” Allison stretched up once again, trying for the ring. She could just insert her index finger in it. “Ouch! It cut me.” She automatically put her finger in her mouth, sucking at the bloody wound.

  Thorne pulled it from her mouth and examined the cut minutely. “Not too deep. I think.” He imitated her action, placing her finger in his mouth and laving it with his tongue.

  At this sensation, primitive feelings stirred through her. 'Thorne, stop that.” she remonstrated with him in a low, husky voice.

  Thorne tilted her head up, a heated look in his eyes. “I think I am pursuing the wrong treasure.” He pulled her into his arms. She responded eagerly to his kiss.

  Thorne broke it off, chest heaving. “Allison, I want you so.”

  “I want you, too, Thorne,” she breathed. For the first time she actually entertained the idea of taking him as her lover, since marriage seemed out of the question. She reluctantly pulled away. “But this is not the time or the place.”

  He smiled ruefully. “True. I’d best bind up that finger for you and proceed with our mission before we both do something we may regret.” He took a kerchief from his riding jacket pocket and bound her finger. Then he scrutinized the sconce carefully, holding the lantern next to it.

  “I think this is made of tempered steel, rather than iron. That must mean something—they aren’t all made like that. Hand me that length of rope in the pouch, will you?”

  She did so. It was too large to thread through the ring, so he cut part of it off and unraveled the braids until he had a small section of rope the right diameter. This he threaded through the ring and then pulled.

  Nothing. Thorne swore, softly but fluently.

  Allison ran her fingers along one of the grooves of stone she had examined earlier. “I think this is a little wider. Try again.”

  Thorne examined the groove. “I doubt it.” But he pulled on the ring again.

  “Yes. It has moved. Oh, I see why we didn’t spot it before.” Thorne bent over the area she stroked excitedly. “I don't.”

  “It is irregular. I mean, the opening follows the pattern of the stones. Try once more.”

  This time when Thorne pulled down hard on the ring, there was a definite scraping sound, and a ragged crack appeared in the wall.

  “Another pivoting door, like the one in the well house,” he said, excitement in his voice. Once more he pulled, widening the gap slightly, but hardly enough to insert even a file. “It hasn’t been used in so long, it may be impossible to open.”

  Allison put the palms of her hands against the wall and pushed with all her might. “It seems to be moving when I push on it.”

  So Thorne put his shoulder to the left of the crack and shoved. Amid much groaning and scraping, the wall began to give up its secret. A large section of it pivoted, gradually revealing an opening large enough for one person to step through. Thorne turned and swung her in his arms. “We’ve found it! The secret passage!” He stopped abruptly, putting his palm to his head.

  “Your injury is bothering you.” Allison steadied him when he swayed on his feet. “Perhaps we’d better not go on right now.” Her disappointment showed in her voice. Thorne grinned. “It’s nothing. A twinge. Though we aren’t going on. I certainly won’t let you go into an entirely unfamiliar part of these tunnels.”

  “Nor I you, at least not without someone to help you.”

  “Agreed.” Thorne looked longingly at the doorway they had just made.

  “Perhaps we could go on just a little way,” Allison suggested. “Oh, very well,” he said, as if he himself hadn’t the least interest in continuing. “We can at least take a peek. Then I’ll come back with some help.”

  Thorne bent down and took a candle from his leather tool pouch. He anchored it to the passage floor by dripping wax on it. Holding the lantern out before him, he squeezed his way through the opening, then helped Allison through. They found themselves in a tiny antechamber with an open door before them. Thorne stepped through it.

  “By thunder, it exists,” he exclaimed.

  Allison pressed against his back, trying to see around him. He turned and helped her into a room with a high-domed ceiling supported by several stone columns. Around the edge were vaultlike chambers carved into the rock. These were lined with small caskets and larger metal trunks of very ancient manufacture. The wood had rotted away from the caskets enough so that the gleam of gold and jewels, and the dark promise of tarnished silver, could clearly be seen.

  Allison drew in her breath. “Oh, Thorne. It does exist. And more than I’d ever dared to hope for.” She started forward eagerly, but Thorne threw up a blocking arm.

  “Careful. Let us search for traps.” He held the lantern high as they surveyed what they could see of the floor, walls, and ceilings.

  “I thought as much. Apparently our ancestors did not trust entirely in the location to safeguard their treasure,” Thorne observed as he studied the ceiling. Allison followed his lifted hand with her eyes, but did not immediately see the danger. “They expected an intruder to rush into the room without minding his steps,” he explained. “Those columns look strong, but notice the base and tops.”

  Then she saw that the base of the first three columns, instead of being solid, were balanced on a much smaller rock. Above, they supported, not a solid ceiling, but an arched roof composed of stone blocks with no mortar between them.

  “They must be fitted together like a bridge archway,” Thorne said. “A brush against one, or perhaps a step on the wrong stones, or even the vibration of walking across the room, could easily topple the columns and bring those stone blocks down on the intruder.”

  Allison studied the situation in silence for a few minutes. “We can go around the edges, though,” she said.
>
  “You just can’t wait to get your hands on that gold, can you?” Thorne chuckled indulgently. “I am sorry you noticed that, sweeting, because I can’t allow you to risk your pretty neck, nor do I particularly want to risk mine. We have found the treasure. Now we will withdraw. I will bring my engineer and some strong workmen to assist me in recovering it. First we’ll need to shore up that ceiling.”

  Allison nodded, stunned by the implications of their find. Wealth was the least of it.

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” She turned a rapt face up to Thorne. She started to say that James would no longer be under Thorne’s control. He could marry and produce an heir, after which she and Thorne could be married! Her natural tendency to consider her words and actions checked her impulse. She waited for Thorne’s response.

  Thorne’s thoughts ran along similar lines. No more impediments other than my own distrustful mind, he thought. The brief silence that ensued was broken not by tender words on either side, but by the unmistakable and very unwelcome voice of Captain Newcomb.

  “It means that I am going to be a very wealthy man.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Deucedly decent of you to have the geese penned up and your brave sergeant away from his post. Lord Silverthorne. Made following you here a great deal easier.”

  “Newcomb.” Thorne’s voice vibrated with loathing. He started to exchange places with Allison, who stood directly in the line of fire of a wicked-looking horse pistol.

  “Hold, Silverthorne!” Newcomb waggled the pistol threateningly. “I will keep the lady in my sights, to ensure your cooperation.”

  “Have you run mad, Newcomb? You can’t steal something like the Silverthorne treasure and get away with it. I suggest you take the next available ship to Australia and save me the trouble of having you transported.”

  “Ordinarily any suggestions of the Marquess of Silverthorne would carry great weight with me,” Newcomb said, a sneering grin giving the lie to his words. “But today I see before me what is worth risking even more than transportation for. Now, Mrs. Weatherby, if you will step this way?”

  “I will not!” Surprising both men, Allison slipped to the side, avoiding Thorne’s attempt to grab her, and moved several paces into the room, until she stood directly next to one of the unstable columns.

  “Allie! Have a care. You could bring that ceiling down at any instant. Look up, Newcomb, and you will know that you cannot succeed.”

  Newcomb looked up at the ceiling. “Yes, a tricky bit of business. As Mrs. Weatherby said, you will have to go around the edge and watch your step. Now, Mrs.—I say, may I call you Allison? Somehow the formalities seem a little silly in this situation.”

  Allison only glared at him.

  “I shall take your silence as permission. Allison, both Thorne and myself would be much more at ease if you would step out into the passageway. Then he and my servant Paddy can carry out the treasure without endangering you.”

  “You intend to earn the gallows today, Newcomb. You’ve already said so. I see no point in making matters easier for you.”

  “If you were to take a more conciliatory attitude, my dear, you might yet live to enjoy the Silverthorne treasure, though not, to be sure, with your intended partner.”

  “I would never allow you to touch me.” Allison moved closer to the column. “I’ll pull the ceiling down on us all first.”

  Newcomb turned the air blue with a string of vituperative curses. “You’d best master her, Thorne, or else watch her bleed to death. A shot to the abdomen is a very painful way to die. I’m told.”

  Thorne felt his blood freeze. He had no doubt that Newcomb would kill her. “Allie. do as he says.”

  “No, Thorne, you know I cannot, must not do that.”

  Grey eyes looked deep into sapphire. “Then I shall join you.” He started across the floor.

  “Wait! A bargain!” Newcomb’s voice rose with frustration. “Don’t be a fool, Thorne. All I want is the treasure. You bring it to the door. Paddy will carry it to my carriage, which awaits in front of the door to the keep. You and your light o’love will be unhurt. We’ll simply beat a retreat that would make Wellington proud.”

  “After you’ve shot us both.”

  “I resent the opinion you have of my honor,” Newcomb said grandly. “If I say I will not hurt you, I won’t.”

  “Leaving us to die a slow death, hidden away here. I thank you, but no.”

  “Don’t be melodramatic, Thorne. There’s no way we can seal that door up well enough that it can’t be spotted instantly. Come to that, you can probably open it yourself, once we're gone.

  Which is my absolute guarantee that you have to kill me before you leave, Thorne thought grimly. Playing for time to think, he continued to bargain. “You’ll leave the door into the tunnel from the well room open as well?”

  “Word of honor as an officer and a gentleman.”

  “You are neither,” Allison called out defiantly. “Don’t do it, Thorne.”

  Thorne had no reliance on Newcomb keeping his word, either. Still, it gave them time. Time for Bean to return, or the groom he had asked for to arrive, or even James. It was a slim chance of survival, but better than none.

  “Very well, Newcomb. Allison, you will go the rear of the cavern, please.”

  “I think not, Thorne. I want her well within range of my pistol as a guarantee of your good behavior. Ah. here you are, Paddy. Did you take good care of that brave young guard?”

  A huge bruiser of a man joined Newcomb at the doorway. “As good as ever his mother did, Cap’n. Put him right to sleep.” Newcomb’s henchman laughed, an evil dark rumble issuing from a mouth foul with blackened teeth. “You ain’t gonna let the woman stay in there, is you?”

  “Oddly enough, Mrs. Weatherby has declined my offer to bear her company while you and Lord Silverthorne carry out the treasure.”

  “Too bad. Right purty gentry mort. Wouldn’t mind a piece o’her meself.”

  “Shut that degenerate up or our bargain is off.” Thorne yelled, his fists clenched in impotent fury.

  “Shut up, Paddy. The treasure will buy us any number of prettier and more compliant damsels. Get moving, Thorne. Delightful as your hospitality is, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  So Thorne dragged the first of four heavy metal chests around the room, shuddering with fear that the vibrations might knock the columns off their balance. Newcomb stood just inside the opening, pistol at the ready while Paddy hoisted the chest on one shoulder as if it weighed no more than a saddle. He balanced it there with one hand and took up a lantern with the other.

  During the time it took Thorne to bring the second chest, moving it more slowly to reduce the vibrations, Paddy had already returned from carrying out the first, which meant he certainly hadn’t carried it up the stairs and out of the keep. He has only taken the chest to the well room. He and Newcomb expect to have plenty of leisure to carry the loot upstairs. This confirmed Thorne’s belief that as soon as he had the last of the treasure in his hands, Newcomb intended to kill them here.

  Thorne’s mind raced furiously as he dragged the chests. A plan began to form. He looked at Allison. Her eyes sought his, and he risked a brief nod and flick of his eyes toward the back of the cave.

  If ever there was a speaking glance, the one she favored him with at this moment was it. She slowly lowered her eyelids, which he took to indicate that she understood him. I only hope and pray that at least this once we are not talking at cross-purposes, my love, he thought. He set the lantern farther back in the alcove where he was working, causing it to flicker and its light to diminish.

  “Here, now. What are you up to?” Newcomb demanded.

  “The candle is burning low. I’ll need some more.”

  “I haven’t any. Just get on with it.”

  “I have. They are in that leather pouch at your feet.”

  Newcomb didn’t even look down. “Nice try, Thorne. But you won’t distract me so
easily. If your lantern goes out, you’ll have to make do with the light from mine.”

  ‘That’s crazy. I can hardly see now.”

  “I am touched by your dedication to your task,” Newcomb drawled sarcastically.

  “I am clear across the room. What harm can I do you? Just toss the pouch along the wall a few feet.”

  This time Newcomb glanced down, and seeing that there was indeed a leather pouch at his feet, bent to feel around in it. He tossed out the tools and then slid it several feet down the side of the wall. “Very well, brighten the place up. Might as well have a cheery atmosphere in here.” He chuckled at his own joke.

  Thorne placed the extra candles and his pocket tinderbox at the back of the alcove, behind the lantern. Then he started dragging the third chest.

  After Thorne had brought all of the chests to the opening for Paddy to carry out, he turned his attention to the smaller caskets. When he tried to pick one up, the wood crumbled at his touch. “I’ll just put as much as I can in the pouch, shall I?” he asked Newcomb, already beginning to stuff it. His plan called for it to be heavy.

  “It won’t hold enough. Allison, you are wearing petticoats, I expect?” Newcomb waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  She did not answer, but rather lifted her chin and gave him an indignant glare.

  “Because I would not wish your modesty to be offended when you take that skirt off and give it to Thorne to bundle the loose bits in. Hate to leave behind so many pretty baubles for want of a container.”

  Allison remained motionless, merely tilting her chin up defiantly. She hoped Newcomb would not notice that each time his attention had been drawn, however briefly, to Thorne, she had edged backward an inch or two.

  “Your lover will suffer from a gut shot just as much as you would. I have a king’s ransom already. Do you not accommodate me, I will make life very unpleasant for both of you.” Newcomb trained his pistol on Thorne. “Do I make myself clear?”