“Oh, no. I could have done that anytime in Egypt, remember?”
Sebastian definitely did. Shivering a bit in the cool of the narrow corridor, he led the way with the flickering taper, slashing through the cobwebs with his foil, feeling very much like a little boy on a treasure hunt. He stopped stock-still, and Cam bumped into him, fortunately not with the business end of his sword. “You don’t suppose—”
“I see we’re thinking alike. My papa’s portrait could have been guarding his stash all these years. Come to think of it, the wall panels were even drawn in his diary, not that I recognized what they were. Carrigan—my forger fellow—can write, but not draw. I thought they were just doodles. Wouldn’t it be a miracle if we found the treasure after all?”
“Let’s not count chickens.” Sebastian sneezed, his exercise-damp clothing covering him like a cloak of snow. “I may not live long enough to enjoy his ill-gotten gains. Damn, how far down does this hall go? It’s as crooked as that French whore’s teeth we shared in Marseilles. What was her name?”
“I don’t think I ever caught it, infamous rake that I am. Patience, Sebastian. Here. Let’s switch places. You’re missing spots and I’m getting mouthfuls of spider eggs.”
Sebastian turned the taper over to Cam. It was only fitting that if there was something, Cameron Ryder should find it. He was the one with the reputation for antiquities. It would be one discovery he could never brag about, however, if they wished to keep clear of the law. Sebastian kept to the stone wall so he wouldn’t smack his face into the abrupt turns. He’d lost sight of the gray light of the tunnel entrance almost from the beginning. “This hall must be accessible from another part of the castle, but I see no doors.”
“Neither do I. One wouldn’t build such a tunnel just to stay stuck inside. There has to be an escape. It’s possible that the other exits are faced in stone. You’d have to know just what you were about to find a way out.”
Sebastian swallowed back the rising panic that this shadowy space engendered. He was safe; he knew it. Torture and worse did not await at the end. He was not shackled and starving. But every step deeper into the bowels of the castle revived something within him that he hoped he’d never feel again. “Cam, now that we know this place exists, let’s go back. Wait until tomorrow. Come in with warm clothes and torches and a picnic lunch in case we wind up at the center of the earth.”
“We are going down. Feel the pitch of the floor?”
Sebastian could feel nothing but the bite of fear in his belly. “Cam.”
Instantly, his friend stilled. “Lord, but I’m a lummox. Yes, let’s go back.”
Sebastian hoped Cam wouldn’t raise the taper too close to his face. But Cam knew what he’d see anyway, and started going on with false cheer about tomb robbing in Egypt and a whole host of other blustery tales. Praise God there were no branches in this hidey-hole to lose one’s way, but the walk back continued to be as dark as the walk in.
“The air’s fairly fresh at least.”
“Yes, but where’s the bloody door?”
Cam scuffled up ahead. “It won’t be long now, Sebastian.” There was a thud, then a pause. “Oh, Jesus.”
“What?”
“Well, I’m at the door, but someone’s shut it.” Cam pounded on it with a fist. “Oi! Oi!”
“They’ll never hear us. Did you see how thick the planking was? Strong enough to resist a battering ram.”
“Don’t be silly. Someone’s bound to come looking for us.”
“And they won’t hear us. Or they’ll think we’re the fucking Archibald Walkers and just roll over in their beds.” Sebastian tossed his sword aside and slid down to the floor.
“Come, now. We can’t give up. We still have light.”
“For how long?”
“Maybe we can saw through the door with our blades.”
Sebastian snorted at the ridiculousness of that.
“Then let’s go on with the search. Maybe we’ll find another way out.”
“You go. I’ll wait here for you to rescue me.”
Cam hesitated. “I won’t leave you in the dark.”
“Akhom Ali’s not here. I’ll be fine,” Sebastian ground out. He was a coward, as weak and vulnerable as he’d ever been. He deserved to die in this black place.
But Cam didn’t. Without Cam, he wouldn’t be here to die at all. Surely they could not have endured what they did in Egypt to wind up trapped in a Yorkshire castle.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Sebastian said with resolve. “I’m going to beat like hell on this door. You take the taper and follow the tunnel and see where it leads. Scream as you go. Maybe someone will hear you. We’ll raise as much racket as we can.”
“You’ll be all right?”
“Yes, Mother. I’ll try not to go completely mad.”
Cam stood over him, his face shadowed. “I—I love you, Sebastian.”
“And I love you, too. Go. And bring back the bloody treasure. And a sandwich.”
Cam turned with a chuckle, then proceeded to make a series of bloodcurdling noises as he moved down the corridor. Sebastian picked up his sword and thumped the pommel against the door at regular intervals. It was too dark to check his watch. After this morning, Freddie would never expect him for tea. She had vowed to dine in her bedroom. How long would it be before someone in the household noticed that two rather large gentlemen were missing? If he couldn’t smell the fear on his own body, this might be laughable. He supposed they could go centuries without someone discovering the trick to the passage. There would be nothing left but his and Cam’s bones.
All right, he was being maudlin. He had not been inside this hell more than ten minutes at most. After enduring eight months in such confinement, what was one night? Or even two? Sebastian had gone days without eating, days without dry clothes, or any clothes at all. If he and Cam were lucky, a plump rat might cross their path—they were armed, after all. If only they’d left their swords outside by the open entrance, someone might have realized they’d vanished inside.
Sebastian stopped his banging and listened for anything beyond Cam’s muffled shouts. The castle walls were famously thick. His father had bragged on it. He wondered if the damned diary had the key to getting out of here, but Freddie had flung it over his head. Why would she pick it up from the dirt, look for architectural squiggles and somehow realize he was trapped behind stone? She’d wished him to the devil. But he’d been there all along.
His sweaty hand slipped along the hilt and he felt the kiss of metal. If worse came to worst, he could slit his wrists and die at his own will. With his luck, Freddie would find him just as the last drop of blood leached from his body. No matter. He was damned anyway.
Chapter 35
He hates me. And I hate him.
—FROM THE DIARY OF FREDERICA WELLS
Sebastian’s right arm had weakened already, so he switched and was doggedly thumping with the left. The sound of his banging echoed on the walls and inside his head, where a dull headache had taken root. The damp of the passage filled his lungs until he imagined mold and mildew taking life inside him, branching out and spreading like the plague. He barked out a laugh at his fantasy. Really, in his current state he was the perfect hero for a third-rate melodrama.
“Hey! Hey! Stop that blasted noise. My ears are ringing.” Cam had snuck up behind him in the dark. He had not been gone that long, but there was no sign of the candle, just a looming form. Sebastian heard him set the foil aside.
“What happened to your light?”
Cam eased himself down on the floor. “Bloody bad luck.” His voice was hoarse. “There was actually a gust of wind and rain at the end of the passage from some chink in the wall. Blew the candle right out. But the hole is on an outside wall. At one time there might have been an actual window to slip through as the castle was being stormed, but it’s been filled in. When daylight comes, I can go back and do some proper screaming, stick my hand out. There might be someone about to hear me.”
&n
bsp; “Unless it rains again,” Sebastian said, certain that more bloody bad luck would follow.
“Then more water will come in. There’s an actual puddle on the floor. I admit I took a drink. Not the best water I’ve ever tasted, but I won’t die of thirst. I would have brought back some for you, but I’m afraid I left my flask upstairs. You’ll have to come with me next time. It’s not all that far.”
In the dark. But at least Cam had found his way back, sooner than Sebastian had prayed for.
“Or you can drink your own piss,” Cam continued jovially. “You’ve done that a time or two.”
Sweet Jesus. “I hope it won’t come to that. What did you see before the candle blew out?”
“Stone and more stone. Oh! And this.” He tossed a drawstring pouch into the general direction of Sebastian’s lap. The heavy bag seemed filled with rocks. Sebastian’s heart raced.
“What’s in it?”
“Jewels, my son. Lots of them. Every pretty color you can think of and then some. Much more portable than a trunk full of French francs when one might have to leave the country with only the clothes on one’s back. I’d say I found my father’s fortune. Shoved into a niche in the wall where anyone might have come upon it.”
Sebastian shook the bag. “Anyone who knew where to look. My God, Cam, you’re rich!”
“We’re rich. Technically you still own the property, but you did promise to split the loot with me if I found it. Which I have, after considerable struggle with a bat. Let me tell you, to have one of those little demons whizzing past your ear—”
“Shut it, Cam!” Sebastian could understand only too well. He’d heard the distant flutters and squeaking between his pounding for the last twenty minutes. “Do you know what this means? If we ever get out of here, I can give Freddie the castle. I won’t need her money.”
“I rather thought you’d have one of these diamonds set for her wedding band.”
“Freddie would never marry me. She hates me and everything I am.”
“I know, I heard her. The library windows were open. It’s not like I was eavesdropping—anyone with ears could hear her banshee screams. For a little thing, she makes a lot of noise, doesn’t she?”
Sebastian pushed his damp curls off his forehead. “I suppose you think I’ve gotten what I deserve.”
“Well, you have ignored all the sensible advice I’ve given you. For a man with a way with women, you’ve forgotten your number-one rule.”
“I didn’t know I had one.”
“You are always honest, Sebastian. You tell your lovelies just what to expect. Your steps to domination are clear and defined. I imagine you have even have a sequence to ensure your success.”
She had known just what he was. He told Freddie what he planned at every step. She never said no. Well, not after the first night. They’d even had a safe word. He’d nearly forgotten the silly “rutabaga.” In any case, it had never been uttered by either of them.
“I never lied to Freddie.”
“Ah. But you weren’t entirely honest, now, were you?”
Sebastian felt his bile rise. “If you mean I didn’t tell her what happened between us in Ali’s makeshift prison—”
Cam placed a hand on his arm. After so many months in the dark together, they did not need light to know where the other was. “No, no. Although if you unburden yourself to her one day, I believe it would ease your soul.”
“I have no soul left! What do you mean, then?”
“You never told her you loved her,” Cam said, his voice a rough whisper.
“I don’t love her!”
“Honesty, honesty, Sebastian. For a disreputable rake, you are positively stuffed with it and so loath to admit it.”
Sebastian leaned back into the wall. “I cannot love her.”
“You mean you will not allow yourself to acknowledge it. I’ve watched you two the week I’ve been here. How careful you both were to pretend nothing was going on between you to protect her reputation. The noises in this castle are really quite bloodcurdling, but I know the difference between ghosts and wind and the sound of a woman orgasming in the morning, my friend. Is that how she convinced you to sell the castle to her and not to me? Trade her body for her home?”
Sebastian’s fist bunched. “You make it sound so—”
“Mercenary? Calculating? I admit Miss Wells does not strike me as the conniving type. She must have wanted a taste of you as well as the deed to this monstrous pile. Did she think your peculiar flavor unpalatable?”
“No.” No, she had craved his touch, as he craved hers.
“Then she is perfect for you. You need to settle down.”
Sebastian let a desperate laugh escape. “Do you hear the absurdity of your words? We may never get out of here, and you’re planning my wedding!”
“You must think positively, Sebastian. We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this.”
“Freddie will never marry me if we do. No woman would put up with a lifetime of—”
“Pleasure?”
“You of all people know what I’m capable of.”
“You’re not likely to find yourself imprisoned and addicted to opium again, Sebastian.”
Cam always was the voice of reason, even when Sebastian was too far gone to understand him. “I—I was weak.”
“Yes. But not completely foolhardy. You’re alive. We both are, thanks to you.”
“Rubbish. Don’t cozen me with this inspirational chat. It was you who saved me.”
“Can we agree at least we saved each other? If you had not agreed to do what Akhom Ali ordered, we would both be rotting in his cellar. We’d be long dead, Sebastian. You held out as long as you could. Think of your back. It was only when the perverted bastard changed his tactics and whipped me that you gave in.”
And found himself dragged up in chains for the amusement of his captor. Placed on his knees, Cam’s cock in his mouth. Ali had taken great satisfaction in making a marquess grovel. Sebastian was always the submissive, the supplicant, until he and Cam were left alone in the dark. Then they could do as they pleased to ease each other. And had.
They had had no hope of escape. What did it matter how they spent their final days if they could bring each other some measure of ease? Cam was his other half, had made their time bearable until the lucky day they overpowered their guard and fled.
And then—nights of horror, the tremors from opium withdrawal so violent Cam had to bind him to keep him safe. The man nursed him, then provided him with a sequence of woman to prove to him that everything still worked as it should.
But it didn’t. No matter how fetching the women were, Sebastian needed to feel dominant. The ropes and the blindfolds became essential to his release. Freddie had been the only woman Sebastian had taken under him with any semblance of normality, and even then, he knew he would always have her submission on the proper day.
“You need to put the past behind you,” Cam continued. “Maybe your Freddie can help you. She makes an unlikely femme fatale, but she seems to be your femme. Do you suppose you’ve loved her ever since you were children?”
No. He’d had feelings for Freddie, of course, mostly those of annoyance. Yet she was always there. Dependable. The fixed star of his youth that had very few points of light.
“I was always daring her to do things. To get rid of her. But she never backed down. She broke her ankle once because of me. I dared her to fly out of an apple tree at home. She must have been seven or eight. She wasn’t very high up—I wasn’t a total little shit. I had shown her sketches of angels with wings, you see, and told her she had some, too, but they were invisible.” He remembered her round blue eyes, solemn with wonder in her pudgy little face. “She fell to earth like a stone, but never cried.”
“You bastard.”
Sebastian knew Cam was grinning in the dark. “I was. She was like a burr caught in my breeches.”
“And still is, from what I can tell.”
True. Freddie rubbed
at him in the most uncomfortable ways, prickling his conscience as he dared her to become his darkest fantasy.
It needed to stop. He needed to leave her. Keep her safe.
“It’s all over, Cam, whatever we were doing with each other. You heard our argument. Now I can leave her in peace and gamble away my new fortune.”
“You never were much of a gambler, Sebastian. But Miss Wells is one risk you really ought to take.”
“No more lectures, Cam. I don’t want the last words I might ever hear to sound too bloody much like a boring sermon.”
“Heaven forefend! Well, what shall we discuss in our last moments?” Cam asked, his voice light.
“Nothing right now. I’d like to go to sleep, if you can believe it.”
“Good Lord, Sebastian, it’s still daylight and will be for hours yet.”
“I don’t care. I’m tired. My arms ache. We’ll wake up in the middle of the night and start banging away again. The castle will be quiet then, people more likely to hear us.”
“They’ll just chalk it up to my ancestors and roll over. Damned inconvenient, these ghosts.”
“They’ll be Freddie’s problem soon. Shut up now, Cam.” Sebastian tucked an arm under his head and closed his eyes. He would be rich, or at least richer than he was, have a chance to get Roxbury Park to turn a profit and perhaps even make some wise investments. In a year or five, he might find some poor girl to marry him to keep Freddie forever out of reach.
Chapter 36
I really don’t care where he is.
—FROM THE DIARY OF FREDERICA WELLS
Perhaps Frederica had been silly taking a supper tray up to her room, but she was a coward, plain and simple. She could not face the men at the table this evening, nor could she do justice to her dinner. Tomorrow Sebastian and Cam would be leaving, and she would never clap eyes on them again. The castle would be hers, for good or ill. Her life would begin again, without Sebastian’s insidious demands. His drugging kisses. His hands smoothing over her skin. His cock—
The silverware clattered as she descended the stairs. She needed to put the past weeks firmly behind her. He had shown her his true self this morning, and their affair was over.
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