Poor thing. No doubt he suffered doubly. “And a soft bed with quilts and a mountain of pillows. Perhaps a pan of coals to heat the sheets.” All of the creature comforts a person didn’t realize were so convenient until they were gone.
“Ah yes, a man can do many things with a good bed.” He tightened his fingers on hers. “But first, fresh air.” His jovial attitude faded and in a steely voice he added, “Let’s hope the reason Basselton wants us dead reveals itself soon, for once I find him, he won’t have a second chance.”
Just like that, the growly bear took over. But she knew better now. It was merely a façade that helped him continue on, to keep his sanity intact and his wits about him in the face of danger and fear. Her heart skipped a beat. How would she ever manage to tell him goodbye?
Chapter Eighteen
I am constantly surprised and amazed by ever-changing life.
Jonathan looked about him with a fair amount of awe as he and Sophia traversed the underground passageway. Water dripped from a far off and still-hidden source. In the golden light of the lantern, portions of the walls sparkled with veins of minerals or perhaps precious metals. It was breathtaking to see and something he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to observe had they not been trapped in that damned well.
“Do you think we’re the first people in decades to traverse this space?” Wonder cycled through Sophia’s voice as she touched her free hand to the wall.
“I highly doubt it. Basselton is too clever for all of that.” He adjusted his grip on her hand. “No doubt it was he who planted the chalice and chest, and I’ll wager he accessed the well by way of these caves.” Which also meant there was a definite way back to the surface. And it was near enough that the bloody lord could gain the network of caverns and return with ease.
“That saddens me. Men like him shouldn’t have access to nature’s glories like this.” In the faint light of the dying lantern, Sophia’s eyes were wide and as sparkling as the walls. When she turned her head and met his gaze, her smile could have lit twenty caverns. “Sharing it with you makes the trip all the more lovely.”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “If you were here with a different agent, you would feel the same. It isn’t the man that matters, but the surroundings.” He had to believe that, had to attempt to distance himself from her. When they parted ways in England, her heart wouldn’t break and his wouldn’t take any more beatings than it already had.
“That’s not true.” She dug in her feet, preventing his forward moment.
He stifled a sigh. “What?”
“In all likelihood, if I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t be on this adventure, but the fact that I did and I am, is all because of one specific man—you.” She stood on her toes and framed his face in her hands. “Pretending you do not matter in every moment that you live is folly. You are important. To someone. Always. Never forget.” Then she planted a kiss on his chin. After patting his cheek, she relieved him of the lantern. “Shall we continue on?”
How did she manage to do that, to make him feel as if he were the only person in the world—her world—and that he was meant to be exactly there?
Before the flicker of the lantern vanished as she followed a curve in the cavern, he hurried to catch her up. She was in mid-conversation, no doubt assuming he had been behind her the whole time. Babbling on about the difference between Roman and Spanish ruins and the architecture. He smiled, content in listening to the pleasant rise and fall of her voice. That cheerful chatter helped him to forget they walked into most certain danger, relatively unprepared.
Eventually, the passageway narrowed and they were obliged to walk single file. In some places, Jonathan had to turn sideways, for the tunnel was too narrow to accommodate the width of his shoulders, and he had to stoop when the ceiling dropped.
Through it all, Sophia never complained about their circumstances. She deported herself as if she were in a drawing room instead of trailing through caves in wet, soiled and smelly garments. Her natural optimism never once flagged, and at every turn in their path, she looked about her with the same enthusiasm and wonder she did everything else.
Eventually, the passageway ended in a spacious cavern with high ceilings. The sides of the cave were decorated with stalactites and stalagmites of varying heights and widths. To one side, a gentle shower of water fell and fed a pool. Throughout the area, the same minerals that had sparkled in the tunnels flashed in the lantern light, but the crowning glory was the thermal spring pool. Steam danced on top of water tinged with an eerie blue-green light. The same florescent illumination clung to the damp stone floor around the pool and crept up the nearest stalagmites. So many of the life forms filled the cave that the lantern’s light was rendered ineffective.
“Be mindful when you explore,” he cautioned. “If you find abandoned wood or fabric of any kind, gather it. If we locate enough, I can build a fire. At least we’ll pass the night warm.”
“You intend to spend the night?” A trace of fear infused her voice.
“Or what remains of it.” He shrugged. “We’ve hiked for hours, not counting what we spent in that well. If not the night, then we’ll make camp for a while to regain strength.” And rest my damned leg. He was unaccustomed to such rugged activity and sorely out of practice with the exercise and not having the cane to rely on made everything more difficult. Convalescing around London or trailing after Archewyne had given his endurance a hit.
“I agree with that proposal.” Sophia left his side and touched a fingertip to a patch of glowing matter. “Why does it glow?”
“It is a fungus or algae of some sort.” Somewhere within the depths of his memory he recalled seeing the same from his time in France. “There are times when saltwater mixes with brackish fresh water, and combined with nutrients in soil, roots of long dead trees or the surrounding area, the organisms are created and grow in caves without the benefit of the sun. They find alternate ways to thrive.” He cringed when the blueish traces decorated her finger. “As far as I know, it’s not harmful to your health.”
She sent him a surprised glance with her eyebrows raised. “Yet doing book research is beyond you, according to your own admission?”
Heat crept up the back of his neck. “I’ve had firsthand experience with this sort of thing. Also, my middle brother fancies himself a scientist when my father isn’t around. He likes to blather on and on when the family is together. To anyone who will listen, actually.”
“I think I would rather like this brother.”
That wasn’t far from the truth. She and Trey would get along famously, and that thought sent his stomach muscles into cramps of worry. “You and he are much alike with a never-ending thirst for knowledge.”
“That’s exciting. Does he not follow his dream?”
“He does not. He continues his education in secret.” Jonathan snorted. “If the duke would let Trey act upon his instincts and talents, perhaps he would, even now, have made a name for himself in that field instead of toiling as Father’s secretary while our eldest brother, Francis, is groomed to take over the title someday as well as set up his nursery.”
“I see.” She frowned. “You dislike children?”
“Not in a general manner of speaking. I’m not convinced I wish for such a level of domestication for myself.” He resisted the urge to tug at his cravat. “As I’ve stated before, my work with the Crown makes all of that a challenge.”
“Or your position as a king’s agent is a convenient crutch so your heart will remain safe.” She darted her gaze away and stared into the luminescent pool. The eerie light reflected upon her skin and gave her the momentary visage of a fabled mermaid. “Trewellain, you give yourself too little credit, and one of these days, I hope you’ll stand proud for all that you are. I hope something will happen to make you see your potential like I do.”
He had nothing to add, so he remained silent. There were times when this woman gobsmacked him, and he didn’t know how to battle that. She had the soul and un
derstanding of a woman thrice her age, perhaps the spirit of a witch for all she drew out of him.
“In any event, I’m not worried these fungi will harm me.” She wiped her hand on her skirts and left a bluish green streak on the fabric as she turned a slow circle. “It’s beautiful though. Magnificent really that this unexpected wonder is in the middle of so much dark and drab. Hidden away from the world above.”
“Yes, it is.” Jonathan wasn’t looking at the pool or the cave. Instead, the whole of his focus was on his companion as she twirled about with her arms flung wide, her head back and her eyes closed. Her bedraggled skirts flared so that the tops of her ankle boots showed. Half of her wheat blonde hair had escaped its pins and tumbled about her shoulders in an icy waterfall. In this setting, she appeared like an elf maiden startled awake from her hideaway. “Very beautiful indeed.”
Coming away unscathed once this mission concluded would be a problem. Already he’d become more enchanted than he’d ever wished or anticipated.
On the verge of losing himself, Jonathan cleared his throat. “This looks to be as good a place as any to make camp. I’ll reconnoiter and hopefully build that fire.” When she shivered, he sighed. “You’re cold.”
Sophia snorted. “You’re a genius.”
God, how he adored her tart mouth. “I meant, why don’t you avail yourself of the pool? It’ll warm you and soothe aching muscles.”
“Truly?” She eyed him askance. “It’s one thing to dip a finger into that water, but quite another to immerse my whole body.” Longing lined her expression. “Though it is tempting.”
“I don’t see the harm. We are alone, and it’s not the most scandalous thing we’ve done on this trip.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll give you privacy if that’s what you’re after.”
“We have been intimate, Jonathan. Modesty has long since ceased to be a worry.” She rolled her eyes and then glanced back at the pool. “I think, perhaps, that I will indulge.” She waved him away. “Do what you must. So will I.”
What a nodcock he was. Any man would give his eye teeth to remain in this cavern with her as she began to shed her clothes, starting with his greatcoat. But he’d promised himself to act a gentleman, made a vow to her dead brother’s memory to protect her and see her back to England. He nodded. “Very well. Scream if there is trouble.” Quickly, before he changed his mind and as she tugged her dirty moss green gown up and over her body, he loped away with the intent of finding materials suitable to building a fire.
Behind a wall of stalagmites, he relieved himself. Afterward, he did up the buttons on his trousers and then made valiant efforts at searching for wood or scraps of fabric, yet the pull of keeping an eye on Sophia grew too strong to ignore. He peered at her through the natural privacy screen. She’d stripped down to her shift. The clothing she’d shed was a colorful pile at her bare feet, for she’d also removed boots and stockings. With an expression of pure delight, she crept to the edge of the pool and experimentally dipped a foot into the water.
Was there anything more intoxicating than catching a glimpse of a well-turned ankle or the exquisite sculpt of a lady’s calf? Jonathan quelled the urge to make a comment. He hated to break her concentration or betray himself.
“Oh my heavens, the water is so warm,” she said, more to herself than him.
She walked forward, down the gently sloping sides, into the pool. The water came up to her waist and then she submerged herself, and while his heartbeat pounded, she swam beneath the water for long moments before finally surfacing. Jonathan released a sharp exhale only to find the simple act of drawing air into his lungs a complicated task when she floated backward on the surface, the dark outline of her erect nipples clearly visible against the thin shift. She moaned with apparent pleasure, and that husky sound arrowed straight to his prick. He was obliged to stifle a moan of his own.
“Oh Jonathan, this water is heavenly. Like the most luxurious bath and one that will never grow cold.” Her voice echoed eerily in the cavern, but the excitement in her tone was unmistakable.
You are a gentleman. She is not for you. Do not take advantage.
With the stern warning circling through his mind like horses on a loop, he concentrated on searching the immediate area for fuel. He refused to turn around at the splashing sounds Sophia made.
“What I wouldn’t give for a bar of French-milled soap,” she said and he was once more reminded of where they were and what she wasn’t wearing.
“At least you have the heated water. Be grateful for that.” With a crow of triumph, he yanked at a few sticks and dried moss. Perhaps an ancient nest of some sort, now it would be a way for them to dry their clothes and keep warm.
“I’m quite grateful, Viscount Trewellain.” The amusement tempered her use of his title. “At least the water will wash away the worst of the grime.”
Dear God. There was only so much temptation a man could endure before he broke. “When you’re finished, let me know.”
“I would enjoy this ever so much more if you would join me,” she cajoled. More splashing followed. “Wouldn’t you feel better after a soak? You should let yourself rest. It isn’t as if we’re on a time schedule.” She snorted. “I’m not entirely certain time exists down here.”
Unable to stand being parted from her, Jonathan came back into the cavern proper. He busied himself with building a small pyramid for the campfire, nearly smacking himself in the face with a branch when he allowed his gaze to wander to the pool where she arched her back and the now-sheer fabric lay plastered to her full breasts.
“Oh, it exists but it passes with excruciating slowness,” he all but growled around gritted teeth. Was she deliberately baiting him or did she have no idea how truly provocative she appeared? It was difficult to tell with Sophia.
After he’d piled his tinder, he frowned. It wouldn’t be enough for a long or big blaze, but it would have to do. “Perhaps I’ll rest once I have a fire going.” Jonathan swept his gaze around the area. In another corner, bones of an animal rested, reposing on scraps of what had once been a blanket of some sort. It would help. He gathered that and the dumped it upon his growing pile.
“Must you do that now?”
When he glanced at her from over his shoulder, he muttered a curse at her pout. “Yes.” Because if he didn’t keep busy, he’d rush into that damned pool, gentleman be damned.
She sighed. “Then please be expedient. I’m lonely.”
Bloody hell. The woman knew exactly what she was about. He unwound his cravat, being certain to keep his back to her, but awareness crawled over him. There was no denying that he wanted her, hungered for her with an urgency that surprised him. He’d bedded off limit women before but none of them had gotten under his skin the way Sophia had.
He tied one end of the cravat to a stalagmite about five feet above the ground, stretched the length of cloth and then knotted the other end to a matching stalagmite. After testing its tautness, Jonathan proceeded to gather her clothes and lay them over the makeshift line.
With every breath he took, her apple blossom scent infiltrated his nostrils, wafted through his brain until he couldn’t think of anything beyond her—her intelligence, her bright outlook, her willingness to persist in the face of uncertainty, her lush curves.
“Jonathan.”
“What?” Finally, he faced her. She rested her arms on the side of the pool and laid her chin upon her stacked hands. Damn, but she looked adorable with her hair wet about her shoulders and her eyes a deeper blue due to the glowing algae. Adorable, innocent and tempting as all hell.
“Leave it and come join me. Whatever is in this water eases the aches and pains in the muscles. I’m concerned about you.”
It was pointless to resist her. “I suppose I could stand the cleaning.” Conscious that she watched his every move, he peeled away his clothing, his boots, his socks, stopping short of taking off his trousers. He hung up what garments he could. Need shadowed her expression. Desire lit her eyes as s
he devoured his chest with her gaze.
Damn it all. She’d be the death of him, but pleasure snaked up his spine at the knowledge he wasn’t the only one battling base instincts.
His cock tightened. Her attention focused on the front of his trousers, and telling his noble half to hang, Jonathan undid every button. Once they were free, he slid the trousers past his hips and down his legs. “Shouldn’t proper ladies turn away with a blush rather than look upon a naked man?”
When she raked her gaze up and down his body, swept her attention along his false leg, he didn’t flinch, didn’t need to. There was no disgust in her eyes, merely banked desire. “Haven’t you discerned by now I’m anything but proper?” She wetted her lips as she peered at his burgeoning length. “And why would you want such a woman anyway? Proper society types are traditionally dull in all the ways that matter.”
“You and I are in full agreement on the subject.” This night would end with their bodies coming together, for he wouldn’t deny her need or his own desire. But it had to end here. This would be his way of saying goodbye then he would keep his hands off her. Once they were back in England, he’d have no claim to her or she to him. He would consign this mad aberration of a mission—and her—to memories.
That was all.
He lowered himself to sit on the lip of the pool, where he manipulated the buckles and straps on his harness and brace. Once his false leg was free, he gently set it aside and then slipped into the warm, glowing water. “God, that does feel extraordinary.”
“I told you it would.” Sophia didn’t leave the side of the pool, for which he was extremely grateful. “In some ways, I wish we could stay here indefinitely.” She faced him but didn’t come toward him. “I know we cannot, but this nice, just the two of us, far away from reality and in our own little world.”
“I have a mission to complete. You know that.” Basselton was still at large, and for whatever reason, he’d hoped they would perish in that well. I want to know why. Because his gut said it went beyond the chalice or even the Spanish crown jewels. In fact, he doubted the missing lord’s motive had anything to do with either. When she didn’t answer, Jonathan waded toward the middle of the pool. He proceeded to scrub at the dirt and grime clinging to his skin, even dunked beneath the surface and ran his hands through his hair multiple times until it felt clean.
What the Stubborn Viscount Desires Page 21