by Robyn DeHart
Daylight was fast approaching, which she greatly appreciated as she traversed the damp grass that led down to the caverns. What precisely did he intend to do with her notes? Or more to the point, what plans did he have for the notes that she’d stolen from Jeremy? Did he intend to find the bones for himself? Curiosity beat a wild path inside her, fueling her questions.
She walked softly as she entered the caves, knowing that the sound would echo and alert Graeme to her presence sooner than she’d like. He would notice her eventually. He had highly attuned senses and generally could tell when he was being followed. But she wanted him to get enough of a head start that she might be able to determine what he was after.
She continued to follow him. He moved into the open cavern that had tunnels leading off of it, much like a wagon wheel. He stood still.
If Graeme turned back and looked behind him, he’d see her. So Vanessa hid against the cavern wall, the cold of the stone pressing through the warmth of her cloak and dress. She waited for Graeme to move farther into the cavern.
He held his lantern up, stepped into a tunnel, and disappeared into the darkness. Vanessa started to count; she’d follow on ten.
Before she could reach seven, an explosion shook the cave. Small rocks fell all around her. Luckily none of them hit her directly. Still her heart leapt into her throat.
Graeme.
Fear plastered her to the wall, and she froze. For two long breaths, she was unable to move. Then she ran, arms over her head to protect herself from the falling rocks.
“Graeme!” she yelled.
She ran down into the tunnel he’d selected. She hit something hard and warm and found herself braced against her husband’s body. She exhaled loudly, then swore. “You scared me,” she said.
“Vanessa! Damnation, woman, must you always follow me?” He held up a hand. “Don’t bother answering that.”
“Must you always try and sneak off without me?” she asked.
“Twisting the subject around does not get you out of this,” he said drolly.
“Where was the explosion?” she asked, changing the subject altogether.
“Over that way. Precisely where I was headed,” he said.
“With my notes,” she said.
He grinned. “You caught me.”
“You weren’t very quiet,” she said. “What are you doing with them?”
“My dream.” He shook his head. “’Tis foolish, I realize, but I dreamt of that illustration, the treasure lying upon those bones. I thought to find it today.”
So he hadn’t dreamt of her at all. Her abdomen tightened. “Well, let us go and see,” she said. She started off in that direction, but Graeme grabbed her elbow and stilled her. “What?” she asked.
“You are a stubborn woman, do you know that?” But he didn’t wait for her to answer. Instead he lowered his mouth and kissed her firmly. “I know I won’t be able to convince you to return to the house for your safety, so at least allow me to go in front. And Duchess, be mindful of your step.”
She nodded. “I may have been referred to as stubborn a time or two in my life. But I do not believe I am alone in that quality, husband.”
He chuckled, looping his fingers through hers and pulling her along. They walked in silence for several moments, their footsteps and their breathing the only sound. Their lanterns lit the way through the narrow cavern tunnel. Then the area opened up, and they could see where the explosion had occurred. Over to the right was a crumbled wall, and fallen stones were piled nearly floor to ceiling. Dust still hung heavy in the air.
Graeme stepped over to the area. He placed his hand on his waistband where Vanessa knew he secured his pistol. “Niall, are you in there?”
“Graeme?” Niall’s voice filtered through the crumbled stone. “Is that you?”
“Yes. We’re going to get you out.” Graeme immediately went about moving stones out of the way. But even as he cleared, Vanessa could see more stones behind.
“No, you can’t,” Niall said, his tone strained, his breath labored. “It’s too late. I’m injured, and I’m bleeding.”
“Keep talking,” Graeme argued. “I’m going to get you out of there.”
“Listen to me, Graeme. I’m a dead man.”
But Graeme merely shook his head and continued to move stones, one at a time. But no matter how many he moved, he made no progress. It was as if there was a never-ending wall of stones in that pile. He’d remove one and three more would fall into its place. The small opening on the left was shrinking.
“Graeme.” Vanessa put her hand on her husband’s arm. “Listen to him. He’s hurt. You can hear it in his voice.”
“He’s got my family,” Niall said, his voice cracking with desperation. “Penny and Jonathan.”
“Who has them?” Graeme asked, but before he could allow Niall to answer, Graeme knew. “The Raven. That’s why you’ve been working with him.” He cursed.
“Yes. I didn’t want to, God knows I didn’t. But I had no other choice. I tried to find them. For two weeks, I did nothing but search, but I never even found a clue that would indicate where he would have taken them.” Niall paused for a moment before continuing. “I refuse to believe they’re already dead.”
“You could have come to Solomon’s. To me. I would have helped you,” Graeme said.
“I wanted to. Believe me I did. But he threatened me. Said he’d kill them if I went to anyone to ask for help. It was then that I came here to find the bloody treasure.” Niall laughed then, though there was no humor to be found in his tone, only irony and sadness.
“I found it. Here, this morning. I’d set the dynamite up last night to blow through a different wall, and that bastard must have followed me and switched things around. I set off his trap, and now I can’t get out. Ironically enough, the explosion opened up the correct area, and there it was. Lying amidst a pile—”
“Of bones,” Graeme filled in.
“Yes,” Niall said. “How did you know?”
“Doesn’t matter, Niall. We’ll get you out of there,” Graeme said again. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m bleeding. A stone fell and hit me on the head,” Niall said. “Hurts like a son of a bitch. Several more fell on my leg. I’m trapped on the ground. I think it’s broken.”
“Graeme,” Vanessa said softly. “Look.” She pointed down at their feet. They were now standing in a quarter-inch of water. “The loch is coming in,” she said softly. “We’ve got to get out of here before the entire cavern is flooded.”
Graeme watched for a moment as the water continued to pour in, first to the toe of his boot, then washing over it to lap at the hem of his pants. Vanessa was right. They were running out of time. He released a long string of curses.
“You have to find them, Graeme,” Niall said. “Promise me you’ll find my Penny and my son,” Niall said, his tone full of anguish.
Graeme stared at his own wife, knowing he probably would have done all the things Niall had done to protect her.
Tears silently slid down Vanessa’s cheeks, and she swallowed hard.
“I promise,” Graeme said.
“Don’t let that bastard kill them,” Niall said.
“I won’t.” But Graeme knew The Raven, and it was likely Penny and the boy were already dead, had been for weeks. Unless The Raven had planned to use them for further leverage—then there might still be time.
“Graeme.” Vanessa placed her hand on his arm, tugging on his coat sleeve. Her eyes were wide with fear. The water now came to her mid-calf, and she had to hold on to the wall to steady herself from the burgeoning current.
He nodded. “Niall,” he said, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.
“I know. You need to get out of here. You can’t save my family if you wait in here with me. Here,” he said as he reached his hand through the small opening. “I can’t give you all of the treasure, but this, this is the stone he’s after. Use it to get my family back.”
&nbs
p; Graeme reached for the stone Niall offered, and a large uncut emerald fell into his hand.
“Oh my,” Vanessa said.
“I’ll save them,” Graeme said.
The water tugged at them. The frigid liquid lapped at Graeme’s thigh, so he knew Vanessa was now submerged up to her waist. He’d carry her out of here if he had to.
“Now get out of here!” Niall yelled. “Tell them I love them, tell them I tried.”
Three hours later, they were on a train headed back to London. Vanessa sat in their private sleeping car and watched Graeme prowl the small space like some great beast caged against his will. Guilt ate at him like a festering sore. She could see the anguish settle in his eyes, the firm set of his jaw.
“You did all you could,” she said, knowing fully that her words would make no difference. He would not feel right about leaving Niall there to die until he was able to save his family. She sent a silent prayer that Penny and Jonathan were still alive and that The Raven had not harmed them.
“I did nothing,” he said softly.
Vanessa stood and went to him, stilled him in mid-stride. She put one hand on his cheek to force him to look at her. “There was nothing to be done.”
He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “I should have known, known that Niall would never willingly work with The Raven.”
Graeme met her gaze. The pain in his green eyes tugged at her heart, and she realized with utter clarity that she was hurting with him, not simply feeling sadness at the terrible situation, but empathizing with her husband. More than anything, she wanted to erase that look from his face, to remove the pain that hung heavy in his heart.
She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him fiercely. Gone were her fears about whether or not their lovemaking would alter who she was, or make her forget the woman she wanted to be. In their place was a deep-seated and simple need to comfort her husband. Touch him and make him forget, if only for a moment, that they’d been unable to save Niall’s life.
He took what she gave and demanded more. He pulled her tight to him, kissed her breathless. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on the back of her dress, which soon fell from her body in a pool at her feet. She stepped out of it, then pulled her shift over her head until she stood before him in nothing but her stockings and shoes.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said. He tore at his own clothes, removing them quickly.
She rid herself of the stockings and shoes, and together they lay on the sleeping cot. It was much smaller than a bed, but he’d taken her on a desk, so this would suffice.
“Be on top,” he said.
She wasn’t certain what to do, but in this moment, she would deny him nothing. So she brought one leg across and straddled him. He stopped her before she lowered herself on top of him. Pulled her down and kissed her again, a long, deep kiss that spoke of things Vanessa had never dared dream of. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, so she kept them closed to keep the tears from falling.
His hand found her; a finger teased her opening. She was already slick with desire for him. Merely the thought of him touching her had lust coursing through her limbs. Now the touch itself was pure pleasure. One finger slipped inside of her while another found her hidden nub.
She bucked against him, wanting him to remove his hand so she could slide onto him. But she was spiraling now, the climax hitting hard and fast.
“Now, Vanessa,” he said. He guided her hips, and she lowered herself onto him. He filled her, so full in this position, as if for the first time she could take in all of him.
His eyes latched on to hers. She moved, tentatively at first, but then she found her rhythm. Over and over again she rocked onto him, keeping her balance by pressing her hands onto his firm chest.
His hand found her again, slid over her sex as she rode him. He was so deep, so full, and with her commanding the pace, she knew when to increase her speed and intensify the force. Deeper and harder she rode him until the world fractured. She shook with her release, but never stopped moving.
And then his hit. He grabbed onto her hips, rocking her as a guttural groan escaped from his throat. All the while, he never looked away from her, never closed his eyes.
“Vanessa,” he whispered.
The intimacy was so great in that moment that she had to look away for fear he would see into her very soul.
Chapter Twenty-one
The sound of the train chugging along the tracks provided a rhythmic backdrop. They lay quietly in their sleeper car, Vanessa snug against Graeme’s side, his hand tracing lazily over her naked back. She felt good pressed against him, not only in a lustful way, but somehow she fit precisely in that spot next to him, as if it had been carved specifically for her.
She fascinated him, his wife. She was smart, as smart as any man he’d ever known, and her wit was sharp and clever. He’d never known her to be overly temperamental. Most of the women he’d known were prone to fits of emotion, whether of enthusiasm or sadness; most women lived life by their heart. But not Vanessa, at least not outwardly.
Her sister had betrayed her, yet he’d never seen her shed a single tear over the fact, nor had she ever spoken an ill word about the woman.
“Vanessa,” he said softly in case she slept. But he was curious.
“Mmm-hmmm,” she murmured.
“Tell me about Jeremy. What happened?” he asked.
She tilted her head and looked up at him, but made no move to leave her spot. “I told you everything. We were engaged, and two days before our wedding, I found him with my younger sister. That’s pretty much the entire story.”
“You must be angry,” he said.
“Of course.” She splayed her hand on his chest, her palm flattening against his skin. “Initially I was, but that seems so long ago now, and I can see that Jeremy and I would not have made a good match.”
He thought to ask how she thought of their match, but it mattered not. They were husband and wife, end of discussion. There would be no going back. No running away. Not for either of them. “But what of your sister? Are you not furious with her betrayal?”
“I won’t lie and say it did not hurt me. But she cannot help who she is any more than I can help who I am,” Vanessa said plainly, as if that bit of rubbish explained everything, excused all behavior.
“She betrayed you,” Graeme repeated.
“Yes, she did. And it was selfish and cruel. But my family hasn’t ever known precisely what to do with me. I’ve never fit in with any of them. My father, who was also a scientist, thought me a fool and told me so regularly. He didn’t see a place for women in the field. He thought us weak-minded and silly. He thought I was naïve to believe I could follow in his path.
“My mother, bless her soul,” she continued, “tried her best to turn me into the perfect daughter. She managed just fine with her other two girls, but with me, nothing worked. I couldn’t hold my tongue in social settings. I wasn’t interested in learning to dance or how to plan a dinner party or run a household. I wanted to read, or go outside and explore.”
“Seems to me your father would have appreciated your nature, been able to relate better to it than to that of a girl who preferred frilly dresses and balls,” Graeme said.
“I thought that too for a long while, and tried my damnedest to make him see it, but my efforts were in vain,” she said with a sad little laugh. She absently toyed with the hair on his chest.
Graeme knew all too well what it was like to try to have a relationship with a father who hadn’t given a damn. His own father had been cruel—not so much physically abusive, but he’d given Graeme tongue-lashings more times than Graeme could count.
“In any case, my mother eventually gave up and left me to my own devices. When I started corresponding with Jeremy through a scientific journal, I had no romantic notions about him. As I saw it, he was merely another scientist, and we shared similar views on many subjects. At least initially. After a month of letters between us, he came
to London for a symposium. We met for tea and our professional camaraderie continued.”
Graeme ran his fingers through her soft hair.
“One day we happened on the discussion of romantic love and realized rather quickly that we both shared the same view of the emotion. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, we’d arranged an engagement, both believing we’d have the perfect union, one built on professional respect. We’d never be bothered or distracted by the frivolous emotions that seemed to consume so many around us.”
It was a logical, though naïve, conclusion, but he would not tell her that. While he wasn’t certain that romantic love was a lasting emotion, he knew it existed and had seen two of his friends fall into it. He also knew that, however foolishly, his mother had truly loved his father at one time.
Vanessa chuckled, though the sound was completely void of mirth. “Who could blame the fellow when he met Violet? My sisters are both so beautiful. Victoria is already married with two children, so that left me and Violet. She’s barely nineteen, though, and while she’s already been a huge success with the men in London, she hadn’t garnered any proposals. We all knew it was only a matter of time. She’s truly lovely.”
“You’re lovely,” he said.
This time she did laugh, an honest, humor-filled giggle.
He placed one finger beneath her chin and tilted her face to look at him. “I’m serious. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Are you sorry?” he asked.
“About what?”
“Not marrying Jeremy?”
“Heavens no. You are much preferable.” She gave him a devious grin. “As distracting as I find the lovemaking, I suspect I would never have experienced it in the same way with him.” Then she frowned. “No, I’m certain about that. Jeremy was…” She tilted her head, searching for the right description, “pale.”