Her mouth went dry as she took some hesitant steps inside. Apart from the first few feet of the opening, the rest of the space was in complete blackness.
“We’ll settle here for the night,” Daniel said. He pulled out a candlestick and some matches from the satchel Roderigo had packed for them.
“But won’t light reveal our position if anyone is following us?”
“Good luck to them in this deluge.” He opened the tin and took out a matchstick. “But don’t worry; if I can cast some light to look about the cave, hopefully, I’ll be able to find a spot deeper in the space where we can settle down for the night, which will also be too far inside for any light from the candle to be visible from the outside.”
“Lovely.” Brianna’s whole body cringed at the thought of going farther into the darkness.
“Damn it,” Daniel growled after his first two attempts to light the match were unsuccessful. “Looks like they got a bit damp.”
“What a shame.” Already, she was starting to feel her spirits lift. “We shall just have to stay close to the entrance for the night.”
Her stomach dropped at the sound of the match flame sizzling into existence.
Daniel lit the wick of the candle and grinned over at her. But then he narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong? You look ill.”
Bree straightened her spine and assumed her most determined expression. She would not let him see her weakness. And she would be damned if she was going to stand before him in not only a deplorable physical mess but also an emotional one.
No. She would push through this fear. If her mother could happily explore caves, and even secret passages under her father’s palace, without fear of the enclosed spaces, as references in her journal implied, Bree was determined to do so, too. “I expect I am simply tired from the strain of the journey thus far.”
He looked unconvinced but shrugged, obviously having decided not to push her on the subject. “Come, let’s find a spot farther inside.”
The light from the candle cast flickering shadows against the rock walls surrounding them. Bree could see that the cavern itself was deceptively deep; it had to span about thirty feet across, and then it narrowed to a much smaller passage about fifty feet ahead. God, she hoped he didn’t want to traverse the length of it to see what it led to.
“Over there in that corner will do.” He was pointing to the right where a rock jutted out from the stone wall, appearing to offer a bit of shelter behind it.
Bree slowly trailed behind him. Each footstep away from the entrance became increasingly more difficult to take. Her breathing started to become shallower, and she had to stop for a second as a dizzying wave of nausea rolled through her. She focused on taking in one deep breath after another.
Daniel reached the place he had pointed to and crouched low to the ground, busying himself for a moment. When he straightened, Bree could see he’d partially buried the base of the candle in the ground off to the side, creating a makeshift candleholder.
He assessed her for a moment and grimaced. “You are ill.”
“I simply do not like caves. I cannot imagine anyone who particularly does. Can you?” Rather forbidding, inky black shadows danced across the walls, looking like the stuff of her nightmares.
“It’s the safest place for us at the moment.” He walked back over to where he’d left his satchel near the candle, then pulled some items from it.
Cautiously, Bree walked over to where he was. She was rather annoyed, but the closer she was to him, the less her terror of the confined space seemed to be.
“We need to get out of these clothes.” His voice was completely matter of fact.
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
He exhaled with a decided air of impatience. There was the imperious stuffed shirt she remembered. “Our garments are soaking wet. We will catch a chill if we stay in them.”
Brianna could feel her heart start to pound erratically. “Well, I cannot change my clothes in front of you.”
He tossed a spare dress and a chemise at her. She caught them to her chest. Thankfully, the leather satchel they’d been in had kept them mostly dry. Too bad the special one from the War Office was too small to carry anything beside the journal and some papers in.
“I’ve already seen you in your undergarments,” Daniel said. “You’ve got two minutes.” She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind on gentlemanly behavior when he interjected, “I’ll wait outside.”
“No!” Without thinking, Bree grabbed ahold of his forearm as he strode past.
He paused and slowly assessed her fingers digging into the arm of his jacket sleeve and then looked directly at her. “What the devil do you want of me?”
She pressed her lips tightly together for a moment. She could tell him the truth, or she could salvage her pride and end up on her own, facing one of her greatest fears. It was no contest. “Please, I don’t want to be alone in here.”
His blank and rather stony expression softened, finally. “Very well, I will stay and face the entrance while you change over in the corner by the light. Is that acceptable?”
Bree nodded, prying her fingers from around his bicep. She braced herself and walked one step at a time over to the candle. Glancing over her shoulder, she was reassured that Daniel was standing where she’d left him, his back to her and his feet braced apart, as he stared out toward the entrance.
Seeing his strong outline gave her strength herself. Of course she could do this. She wasn’t going to let some silly caves get the better of her. She dropped the dry clothes to the ground and slipped off her satchel to lay next to the garments.
Reaching her hands over her shoulders, she awkwardly began unbuttoning the buttons on the back of the dress. Luckily, they were rather big, and after only fiddling somewhat with the top ones, the rest she unhooked with relative ease.
She paused. She’d never changed before without a screen to protect her and with a man a few feet from her. Mind you, this particular man had ripped open her gown and seen her in her under-drawers only yesterday. My goodness, if anyone ever found out about that, she would literally be ruined. Not that the thought of social ruination particularly bothered her, never having been too fussed before if she married or not. But it would disgrace her family, and she could not allow that to happen.
She’d skirted on the edges of ruin many times previously, though she’d never come this close. Her family meant everything to her, and she would protect them, even if it was from herself.
She stepped out of her dress and pulled off the damp chemise, shivering as the cool air of the cave brushed across her naked skin.
Hurriedly, she reached down and grabbed the dry clothes, pulling them on as quickly as she could.
As she smoothed the simple, brown material down over her undergarments, she straightened. It felt good to finally be out of the wet clothes she’d worn for the last few hours. Like the other clothes Maria had given her, this dress was a bit on the short side, and Bree’s slender curves certainly didn’t fill out the top portion of it as the other woman’s must have.
Try as she might, she couldn’t manage to get the top two back buttons done up. And without them secured, her décolletage would be fully on display. Which left her only one option. “Um, Daniel?”
“What?” he asked, his voice seeming even more gruff than usual.
“I need your assistance with the last of my buttons.”
His whole body stiffened at her request. “Can they not simply stay undone?”
“No, they cannot,” she snapped. “Unless of course you wish me to act the trollop and display my wares to you?”
She thought she heard him groan. But he turned to her with such an expression of annoyance on his visage that she was certain it must have been the wind outside.
“Turn around,” he ordered, stalking across to her, the golden slashes of his eyebrows drawn over his piercing, emerald eyes.
She did as instructed, then lifted her semi-wet locks to the s
ide.
Deftly, he buttoned up the first button but then seemed to have great difficulty getting the last, his fingers fumbling with the task.
Bree could feel the heat radiating from his body, a mere inch from her back. For a moment, she was sorely tempted to lean back against him and absorb his warmth.
“Done,” he whispered to the right of her ear. His breath was warm and sent a whisper of desire curling through her. “Is there anything else you need assistance with?” he asked, lingering over her shoulder. His words were like a caress against her skin, and she felt his stubble as his chin brushed down against her neck.
“I am…fine,” she managed to mumble. Was he smelling her?
“Good,” he replied but still did not move.
“Daniel?” she asked, unable to stop her traitorous body from swaying slightly backwards into him.
For a moment, they stood softly pressed to each other, his front to her back. All Bree wanted then and there was for him to spin her around and kiss her senseless once again.
Instead, he cursed, and suddenly, she was standing very much alone.
“Unless you wish to see me naked,” he said, “stay facing that direction.”
She felt like he’d slapped her. The temporary madness of passion from standing close to him washed away like the high tide. Bree crossed her hands over her chest and tried to think of as many horrid names to call him as she could. Because quite clearly, the man was not affected, like she herself seemed to be, by their close proximity. Darned annoying really.
“Done,” he stated. “Let’s eat something.”
Bree counted to ten before turning to face him. He was crouched down rummaging in his satchel, wearing a pair of trousers that were much too short for his long limbs, and stretched tightly across his torso was a cream shirt. The top few buttons were undone, as clearly the material would not stretch over the expanse of his broad chest to meet the button holes on the other side.
A reluctant smile spread across her lips at the sight. The new set of clothes still looked like the last, as if they’d shrunk a few sizes. But then her gaze drifted over to his dark gold chest hair peeking out from the shirt’s opening, and her pulse quickened. She hurriedly averted her eyes. Rodrigo must not have given him any spare cravats. Goodness. She’d never seen a man partially undressed before. He looked like a pirate.
Daniel pulled out a loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, and the canteen of water before sitting down on the blanket he’d spread out on the ground next to the candle.
He ripped off a portion of the bread and held it out to her. “Come. You must be hungry.”
Her stomach agreed, growling aloud and echoing into the space.
He laughed.
“Didn’t your mother teach you it is rude to laugh at a lady’s accidental faux pas, Lord Thornton?” she asked him.
“Yes. She would have clipped me on the ear for doing so.” He smiled softly at her. “It is back to Lord Thornton, is it?”
“When you vex me, it appears so.”
He chuckled and motioned her over.
She took a few cautious steps farther into the dark cave, then sat on the blanket across from him and tucked her skirts around her. She grasped the bread he offered and took a healthy bite.
She felt like sighing. Delicious. Fresh bread had never tasted so good.
He handed her a wedge of cheese and then took a chunk of both for himself.
They sat for a few minutes in companionable silence as they enjoyed the simple fare before them. And for a moment, Bree forgot her fear and just enjoyed filling her empty belly.
All at once, she become aware that he was staring at her, a look of hesitation on his face.
“Is something amiss?” she asked him.
“I haven’t asked you yet about your mother’s journal,” he began. “But I think it’s time that I know what it contains and why everyone is after it.”
Bree wiped her hands on a portion of her skirt. She’d known she’d have to tell him sooner or later, but she’d hoped it would be later. Because really, how did one say that one’s mother had been chasing after a treasure that contained a relic purported to imbue everlasting life on the mortal to discover it? It sounded ludicrous, even to Bree’s own ears.
Chapter Sixteen
Casolesi Forest, Calabria Region
There was no sound as the door opened, but the flame from the lantern flickered softly as the woman slipped inside.
Travis twisted his hands against the ropes that were binding his wrists to the back of the chair as his captor’s sister approached. She was disobeying her brother’s instructions by visiting him; at least, that is what he’d gathered from the shouted conversation in Italian he’d overheard reverberating through the ajar window earlier in the day.
She wore a simple blue dress, but the material was clearly from an expensive bolt of cloth, and it had been tailored to fit her curves to perfection.
The woman regarded him with an expression that gave away nothing. Though one of Travis’s eyes was closed over from swelling, he was still able to appreciate the beauty staring proudly down at him. She had rich, mahogany brown hair, and her cat-like eyes were a vivid green, fringed with heavy, inky lashes.
She looked barely anything like her brother. Even her skin was a delicate alabaster and not the customary olive of those he’d seen in the compound. Certainly not typical for these parts of Italy.
“Your brother won’t be happy.” Travis spoke in Italian, his voice barely a whisper.
“That is not your concern.” She spoke perfect Queen’s English. She took a step toward him and crouched down to his eye level. “Is it true that your father is the head of the Intelligence Department for the English government?”
For a moment, Travis was completely baffled that she would know that piece of information about his father. “Excuse me?”
She stood and tapped her foot in impatience. “Obviously, Santori hit your head harder than he was meant to.”
Travis felt highly offended by the comment. “I have all of my faculties intact, thank you very much.”
She arched a perfectly shaped pair of brows at him. “Then answer the question. Does your father work for the English government, leading the Intelligence Department?”
He stared at her for a moment. “Why do you ask?”
“You do not deny it, then?”
Travis simply regarded her in silence.
It seemed to be all the confirmation she needed. “Good. Then I will help you to escape.”
He laughed. “You and what army?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, a calm arrogance in their depths. “Do you wish for my help or not?”
“If your help won’t get me killed, then yes,” he answered her. After all, he wasn’t in a position to be picky about offers of assistance.
“You will survive. But you must promise to take me back to England with you and let me speak with your father.”
Travis thought he’d heard her wrong. “I beg your pardon?”
“Those are my conditions. Do you accept them or not?”
“Why would you wish to go to England? And speak to my father of all things?”
“That is not your concern.”
“Actually, it is if you are going to accompany me,” Travis said. “From what I gather, your father is the head of the Garendetta, no?”
Her full lips pressed tightly together, her smooth confidence slipping for an instant. “How do you know that?”
He grinned and motioned toward the window. Then he couldn’t help but groan from the pain the movement caused to his already pounding head. “The window,” he uttered, rather more weakly than intended.
“So, you heard my brother and me argue earlier in the courtyard.” She pursed her lips. “Well, what of my father?”
Travis shook his head. “I highly doubt he’s in agreement with you traipsing over to England with me. I daresay he would be chasing after me a great deal harder with you by my side, than if
I escaped alone.”
A slow, deliberate smile lit her face. “He’s not going to be chasing you anywhere, while you stay strapped to that chair and locked in this room, now, is he?”
He hated that she was right. “And just how the hell are we going to get back to England on foot with your father’s men chasing us?”
“I have no intention of traveling there on foot.” She sounded highly amused at his suggestion. “I have already secured passage on a ship sailing from Amantea in a week’s time for both of us and my nonna.”
“Your nonna?” Travis was incredulous. “You want to bring your grandmother along?”
“She’s already waiting for us in Amantea.”
“Very confident, aren’t you, of me agreeing?”
“Considering your present circumstances”—she eyed him up and down before the corners of her mouth tilted upwards—“I am your best chance at getting out of here. Well, at least, I will be after you regain a bit more of your strength.”
Travis regarded her for a moment in silence, mulling over her offer. “Why do you need me to accompany you? Sounds like you have everything organized to go yourself.”
“I have my reasons.” She glanced away briefly. “All you need to do is get me back to England and organize a meeting for me with the head of this War Office your father works for.”
He shrugged and gave a mirthless laugh. “Why the devil not? It’s not like I have any better offers, is it?”
“Good.” She turned on her heel and silently walked over to the door. “I will make the arrangements for a few days’ time. Try not to anger my brother in the meantime. If you’re beaten again, you’ll be in no fit state to travel.”
“Your concern for my welfare is touching.”
She paused with her hand on the door handle and looked back at him. “You are my opportunity out of this life. If you destroy it or do not keep your end of the bargain, I shall kill you myself. And don’t let my outfit or the fact that I am a woman deceive you; I have been trained better than my brother.”
The Elusive Earl (Saints & Scoundrels) Page 14