“Of course she is,” Daphne said sharply. “It is just that I worry about her. She is—”
“I think right now, you should be more worried about yourself,” Charles interrupted.
What a rude, overbearing man, Daphne thought, deciding that her first assessment of him had been correct. Even if he was handsome as the devil and even if he was helping her, he was still rude. He had no reason, she decided resentfully, to dismiss her worries about her sister that way.
Charles glanced around, not liking the steep angle of rock nor the fact that several more boulders seemed poised to come tumbling down. If there was another slide…His lips thinned. There was, he admitted uneasily, the very real possibility that the cave could be blocked…with Daphne in danger of being buried beneath the rubble or at the very least, trapped on the other side. With renewed urgency, he attacked the rocks, keeping a wary eye on the boulders above them.
Feeling a slight give of the main rock pinning Daphne’s foot, he had a surge of satisfaction, which quickly died as more stones and small boulders dribbled around them. His eyes met Daphne’s, the awareness in those big hazel eyes making him realize that she perceived the danger, too. Beautiful and intelligent, too, he thought, his gaze locked on hers.
They exchanged a speaking glance before she said quietly, “Adrian, my fire is running low and likely to go out if I do not have more fuel. Would you please see if April has gathered enough driftwood to spare some for me?”
Adrian hesitated, looking from one adult to the other, perhaps sensing something was in the wind.
“Your sister’s suggestion is wise,” Charles said. “We do not have any idea how long it will take us to free her—the light from the fire is helpful as well as keeping her from getting chilled.” He flashed him a smile. “And your absence will give me a chance to catch my breath.”
Beautiful, intelligent, and brave, Charles decided, wondering idly what Julian would make of her. Not that it mattered.
Adrian set his jaw, and Daphne’s heart sank. Oh, dear. He was going to be stubborn.
Before she could speak, Charles said gently, “This is no easy task—it’s going be a long night. We do need that driftwood.”
Adrian nodded and said, “Very well. I shall not be gone but a moment.”
Only when her brother was safely out of earshot did Daphne speak. Her voice steady, despite the anxiety Charles glimpsed in her eyes, she said, “Shouldn’t you go with him?”
“What? And leave a damsel in distress?” he demanded, a faint smile playing around his mouth. “Now what sort of hero would that make me?”
“A live one,” she said tightly.
Several larger rocks suddenly gave way and bounced and rolled to the ground near them.
“More like a live coward,” he said. “A role, I must admit, that does not appeal to me.”
“This is no time to jest,” Daphne said from between gritted teeth. “You know as well as I do that the rest of those rocks could come down at any time. There is no reason for you to stay.”
“And I think there is every reason for me to remain,” he said calmly.
“Mr. Weston, you must leave. It is not safe,” she argued. “You must save yourself or at least wait until we have more help and can perhaps stabilize the rocks.”
Ignoring her, Charles studied the boulders one more time, and his mouth set in a grim line, he tackled the rocks around her foot again. His heart leapt as there was another shift of the rocks that held her fast, and he yelled at Daphne, “Pull! Pull for all you are worth.”
She obeyed him, hope springing through her when her foot moved ever so slightly. Bracing her hands on the cave floor, she pulled and twisted her leg, ignoring the pain that shot through her, her pulse jumping when her foot slid another inch toward freedom. She struggled violently for a moment, but her foot was still trapped. “I cannot free it. I am not strong enough,” she uttered in disappointment. “The rocks are looser, but not enough.”
There was another shower of rocks and boulders, and dust filled the air, leaving both of them coughing. Charles looked back at her. “Go,” she said softly. “Go. Save yourself.”
“Like bloody hell,” he snarled, and his face grim, he put his shoulder against the rock and pushed with every muscle he possessed. There was a grinding sound, more boulders and rocky debris clattered down around them, but Charles felt the rock move, and he shouted, “Try now!”
Tears of frustration running down her cheeks, Daphne pulled and wiggled and fought with every ounce of her being. Exhaustion and fear took its toll—her ankle was bloody and torn, but she still struggled, the smallest movements giving her the hope to keep trying. But it was no use.
“I cannot,” she cried out in desperation. “I’m able to move it a little, but not enough. I am not strong enough.”
“Yes, you are,” he said harshly. “And by God, you are going to pull yourself free.” His shoulder against the boulder, he looked back at her. “We’ll do it, Daffy. We’ll do it. I’ll move this bloody rock, and when I do, you pull, damn it, you pull!”
He set his shoulder against the unyielding surface, pushed until his muscles screamed in agony, but the rock moved, and he heard Daphne’s triumphant shout when her foot slid free. A shower of rocks and boulders crashed down, and Charles barely had enough time to jump away before they struck where he had been standing only a moment before.
Breathing heavily, Charles knelt down beside Daphne, wincing when he saw the state of her mangled ankle in the glowing embers of the fire. She looked up at him. “It looks terrible, I know, but nothing is broken except skin.” She hesitated. “Thank you. I am most grateful for your efforts on my behalf.”
“Can you stand on it?”
“I think so, although it will probably be a little numb at first.”
He helped her to her feet and though she flinched when she applied weight to her foot, with Charles’s support under her arm, she was able to stand.
She smiled ruefully. “I won’t be going exploring any time soon, I can tell you that.”
“You were foolhardy to do so today,” Charles said bluntly. “We were lucky. This tale could have had a very different ending.” As he stared down into her dirt- and tear-stained face, the knowledge that she could have died today, that he might never have had the opportunity to know her terrified him and infuriated him at the same time, all the more so because he couldn’t explain his emotions. His hands closed around her shoulders, and he shook her. “Do you realize how easily you could have died?” he growled. “Those rocks could have given way at any time, and not only you but also your brother and sister could have been trapped in here. No one would have known where you were or where to look for you—did you think of that before you had the shatterbrained notion to go exploring by yourselves?”
Any gratitude she felt for his help evaporated, and Daphne drew herself up proudly. “I am sincerely grateful for your help,” she said stiffly, “but that doesn’t give you the right to rip at me in this fashion. Today’s event was unfortunate, I will concede that fact, but it could have happened to anyone, and I don’t take kindly to your criticism.”
“At the moment, I don’t much give a damn what you think,” Charles snapped, still gripped by his unexplained emotions.
“Which is just as well,” she shot back, the light of battle in her fine eyes, “since I don’t give a jot if I ever see or hear from you again. You are the most overbearing, arrogant man I have ever met.”
“That I may be, but at least I don’t need a keeper—and you sure as the devil do!”
The sounds of approaching voices made them look in that direction. It was then that Daphne noticed how small the opening was that led to the other side of the cave. All the many slides had added to the jumble of rock and boulders, and where before one could scramble through the opening, it now looked too small even for a child to manage. But she wasn’t worried, at least not exactly. It was going to take awhile, but the opening could be widened, and now that help
had arrived, they’d be out of here in no time. And the sooner she was away from the detestable Mr. Charles Weston, the better.
Adrian’s head and shoulders appeared in the opening, his features anxious. Seeing Daphne standing upright, a huge smile broke across his face. “You’re free!” he exclaimed. “Mr. Weston freed you!”
“Yes, he did,” Daphne said coolly, not at all happy at being indebted to Mr. Weston. “And now all we need is to widen that breach, and I shall be out of here.”
“It will not take us long,” Adrian said. “A half dozen of our servants have arrived, and they brought broth, bread and cheese, and blankets, and something to fashion a sling—all sorts of things.” Awe in his voice, he added, “Lord Trevillyan is here, too. He said since he knew exactly where we were, that it would be best if he led the servants here. Wasn’t that nice of him?”
“Yes, it was,” Charles agreed. “I assume the servants brought some pickaxes and what have you to dig us out?”
“Yes, yes, they did. We shall start immediately.” He grinned at his sister. “We shall have you out of here in no time, Daffy.”
Daphne sincerely hoped so. Her foot ached, and despite Mr. Weston’s jacket still draped around her shoulders, she was growing chilled and hungry.
Having a good idea of her condition, Charles stepped away from her and called up to Adrian, “This is going to take a while. Before you start, why don’t you pass through some blankets and some of the food.” He glanced down at the dying fire and added, “And if there’s any extra wood, we’ll take that, too. I think your sister would be much more comfortable while we wait.”
Adrian agreed, and a few minutes later, a heavy quilt, some blankets, a torch, a half dozen large pieces of driftwood, and a basket crammed with food was lowered down to Charles. In minutes, the fire was burning merrily. Daphne politely returned Charles his jacket, and she was now wrapped in the heavy quilt and feeling almost toasty. The basket contained a bottle of wine, some bread and cheese, and cold chicken and fruit. A simple meal, but as she took a bite of the chicken, Daphne decided she had never tasted anything so heavenly.
Work began on widening the opening, the clank of the pickax against the boulders and rocks ringing through the cave. Charles had lit the torch, and by its light, they watched the progress. The work continued smoothly, and to Daphne, it looked as if the hole had already doubled in size.
With rescue in sight, feeling in charity with him, she smiled at Charles and said, “We shall, indeed, be out of here in no time.”
The words no sooner left her mouth than there was an ominous rumble. In horror, she looked up. The entire roof of the cave seemed to implode as huge rocks, boulders, and a shower of dirt came crashing down on them.
Charles leaped forward and grabbed Daphne, dragging her away from the worst of the falling debris. The air was filled with dust, and they both coughed, choking on the fine particles.
The rumble lasted for only a few seconds, and then there was utter silence. Looking upward in the wavering torchlight, Daphne’s heart sank right to her toes. There was no sign of any opening at all. Before them lay a solid wall of rock and boulders. Their escape route had been obliterated.
Her eyes full of dismay, she glanced at Charles. He, too, had been studying the rocky wall before them. Feeling her gaze upon him, he looked at her.
Her voice betraying only the faintest quaver, she said, “It looks as if it will take them a trifle longer than we expected to free us.”
“Indeed, I fear you are right,” he replied slowly, seeing the path that Fate had set before him. They would be lucky, he suspected, if they were rescued by daylight—which meant he would be spending the night alone with Miss Daphne Beaumont. A member of a proud, noble family, Charles knew what honor would expect of him once they were rescued, and he felt not the slightest alarm or consternation. What he did feel was mingled anticipation and amusement as he pictured the expression on Daphne’s face when it dawned on her just what the outcome of this night would be. Somehow, he didn’t think she was going to be very happy when she realized that in order to avoid a scandal, Society would demand their marriage to each other. He grinned. And it would be his very great pleasure to change her mind. Ah, but he did love a challenge.
Chapter 5
With little conversation between them, Charles and Daphne had spent a not too uncomfortable night sleeping on the cave floor. Daphne was wrapped chastely in the heavy quilt while he made do with the thinner blankets. The basket of food and the torch had been a godsend. The fire had died just before dawn, but he’d saved the torch for just such an occasion, and so they did not have to sit the remaining hours in pitch-black darkness. And when they woke in the morning, there was still some bread and cheese and a few sips of wine left over from the previous night.
Charles’s estimation of the time of their rescue had been optimistic. They spent another increasingly uncomfortable and anxious night before their ordeal was over, and it was late in the afternoon of the second day before Adrian and the others finally broke through the tumbled wall of rock and stone. In those long hours before their rescue, there’d been an odd sense of intimacy between them, the gloomy darkness and their uncertain fate forging a bond that Daphne would have said was impossible twenty-four hours previously. Charles’s presence gave her comfort, and his cool indifference to their fate encouraged her to act the same and not give way to the hysteria that sometimes choked her. Ignoring the fact that they were virtual strangers, they made a good effort at pretending that their ordeal was a perfectly normal event. They conversed politely with one another—with a bit of formality on Daphne’s part and half hidden amusement on Charles’s part. In genteel harmony, they shared the remaining food and avoided any discussion of the grim possibility that they both might die in this cold, clammy cave.
When the first spike of light from the other side shone through, Charles rose to his feet where he had been sitting beside Daphne and said, “Well, now, it looks as if our rescuers have made good.” In the dim light, he smiled down at Daphne, who was visibly shivering in the heavy quilt. “And not a moment too soon. Another night in here wouldn’t have done you any good.”
She made a face. “Nor you,” she said as she rose to her feet. “I’m sure you are equally as cold and hungry as I am, and as eager to leave this adventure behind you and pretend it never happened.”
Charles studied her face for a moment. “Was it so very bad?”
She sighed. “Not as bad as it would have been if I had been in here by myself.” Honesty compelled her to add, “You were very gallant to stay with me, and I thank you for that. You will always have my deep gratitude.”
Charles started to tell her what she could do with her gratitude when a shout from above distracted him, and he looked in that direction. Adrian’s face appeared in the small area they had cleared.
Seeing Charles and Daphne looking up at him, a huge grin split his face. “By Jove, am I happy to see you! Have patience, and you’ll be free of this place in no time.”
It took a bit longer because of the instability of the jumbled debris that had kept them prisoners on the other side, but eventually, a hole barely large enough for them to crawl through was achieved.
Exhausted, hungry, smudged, scraped, and scratched, they were eventually freed. Over the past two days, word of their dangerous predicament had spread, and as Daphne was escorted into the weak sunlight, she was astonished to discover that it appeared that anyone of any consequence for miles around had gathered at the scene. The vicar, Squire Renwick, Lord Trevillyan, even Mr. Vinton, as well as thirty or forty other people, many of them Beaumont servants, were milling around outside the cave. A great shout went up when Daphne, followed by Charles, stepped out of the mouth of the cave. April, Ketty, Mrs. Hutton, the vicar’s wife, and the squire’s wife were part of the crowd, and after tearful hugs and joyous exclamations, they hustled Daphne toward one of several big bonfires that had been lit. To protect her from the stiff wind coming off the Chann
el, Ketty wrapped her in a heavy sable-lined cloak, and Mrs. Henley pressed a mug of hot soup into her hands. Scolding and fussing, Ketty kept touching Daphne’s tangled hair as if to reassure herself that she was actually safe, and April clung to Daphne like a limpet, her small body pressed close to Daphne’s side. After giving Daphne a fierce hug, Adrian left her to the care of the women and joined the gentlemen gathered around Mr. Weston.
Daphne’s eyes followed his path, and Mrs. Henley smiled and said, “That’s a fine young man, your brother—no one worked harder than he did to free you.” She tapped the cup in Daphne’s hand. “You drink that nice, warm barley broth, and don’t worry about a thing.”
Dutifully, Daphne sipped the rich liquid. “Thank you. It is so very kind of all of you to come to our aid.”
“Everyone was frantic,” said the squire’s wife, patting her on the arm. “Why, I don’t believe that there was anyone in the neighborhood that wasn’t touched by your plight.” A speculative gleam in her eyes, she added, “It can’t have been easy for you trapped with that Mr. Weston. A stranger, isn’t he?”
Daphne attempted an explanation, but Mrs. Henley waved it aside. “The main thing is that it ended well,” she said. “And Mr. Weston may be a stranger to us, but I have it on good authority that his family and breeding are excellent.” She cast a superior glance at the squire’s wife. “His cousin is the Earl of Wyndham, a very old and respected name. When we realized that dear Miss Beaumont was going to have to spend the night in that horrible cave with the man, my husband naturally made inquiries of Lord Trevillyan.”
Daphne looked astonished. “He is related to an earl?”
“Oh, yes, indeed,” Mrs. Henley said complacently. “And apparently the possessor of a handsome estate and I might add, fortune. Which if you ask me, is a very good thing under the circumstances.”
Seduction Becomes Her Page 7