Chapter 11
Gradually Elf realized how absurd their behavior was and offered an olive branch. “It would be annoying,” she said, having found nothing remotely like a tool, “to discover that axes and scythes are hanging from the ceiling.”
She stood up, rearranged her shift, and headed back toward the box. And stubbed her toe against a rock, falling forward to bang her knees on it.
At her cry, he said, “What? What’s the matter?”
“I just stubbed my toe.” She sat to rub at various painful spots, then explored the obstacle. She’d thought it a raised flagstone, but it was many inches thick with metal handles attached. It was clearly no use to them, though.
“I hate this darkness,” she said as she scrambled to her feet. “Do you keep rubbing your eyes, hoping to clear your vision?”
“Yes. Do you have moments of fear that you really are blind?”
“I would if I were alone. Have you found anything?”
“No. Come and sit on our coffin.”
She felt her way forward carefully, already beginning to grow more skillful with her other senses. A dull thump told her he’d replaced the lid and when she got there and sat on it, his robe came around her shoulders.
Which meant that when he put his arm around her and pulled her close, she settled against his naked body. She didn’t complain. The warm cloth was comforting, and he’d wrapped it lengthwise around both of them.
“What now?” she asked.
“We have to decide whether to attack that door at the top of the ramp. I think it opens outward and the lock might be weak. It’s possible I can batter it down, though I’m not sure. I can’t run at it. Since there’s about three feet of headroom up there, I can hardly even swing at it.”
“Anyway, you’d hurt yourself.”
“For you, fair lady, anything.”
She laughed, snuggling closer. “It really does offend you, doesn’t it, not to be able to make a grand gesture?”
“Assuredly. It offends me even more, though, to just sit here waiting for something to happen.”
During the search, Elf had been thinking about her people. Perhaps they were searching for her now. Perhaps they’d seen the capture but been unable to act immediately. But in that case, surely they would have planned a rescue.
Then she remembered that to them she was just some doxy hired by the Mallorens to seduce the earl.
“Do you think anyone is guarding that door?” she asked.
“It depends on so many factors. If it’s important to hold us for a purpose, then yes, they’d post a guard and he’d already know we were up and active. If they just wanted to get rid of us for a while, then they might not. Clearly this place can hold us for many hours.”
“Why would they want to do that?” Again she was begging him to be honest with her and tell her something of the plot.
“There could be reasons, but it wouldn’t be safe for you to know.”
At his tone, she remembered that Lisette had claimed not to have heard anything of importance at Vauxhall. The gallant man was trying to protect her. It made her smile in a way that would look very silly if anyone had been able to see.
“If there’s no one guarding us,” she suggested, “we could make a noise. Call for help.”
“By my estimation, it’s about three in the morning and this building, whatever it is, is deserted. Who’d hear?”
“Let’s try anyway.” Elf leaped down off the box. “I’ll use the stick to bang on the door. You rattle the trapdoor.”
“Impetuous Lisette.” She heard him move. “Do you regret seducing me?”
“Seducing you?” Elf froze. “I most certainly did not!”
“Did you not? When a gentleman has no intention of dalliance, yet finds himself implored into pleasuring a lady, what else would you call it?”
Implored! “You seduced me on that boat, my lord.” Elf groped to the door, found the stick, then banged out her anger on the oak.
“Alas. I’m ‘my lord’ again.” He rattled the door at the top of the ramp. “Help! Ho! If I seduced you, Lisette, I was singularly inept.”
“Were you?” She belabored the wood. “You caused me to rethink my decision.”
“Ah. You restore my faith in myself. Ho, there! Help! In the cellar! One hundred guineas reward to anyone who releases us!”
“A hundred? How niggardly. Help!” Elf screamed. “One thousand guineas to my rescuer! Help!”
“Picayune. Ten thousand guineas to free me from this rash, extravagant wench!”
“I fear you are a man of limited resources. Help! To me! A hundred thousand guineas to save me from this dastardly rapscallion!”
“Why do I think you expect me to pay your debts? A rescue! A rescue! My earldom for a rescue!”
Silence fell, then Elf recalled the laughter in his last cries, and realized that the sounds of it continued. He was whooping. Oh, but she wished she could see him helpless with laughter.
It still shook his voice as he said, “A hundred thousand, indeed. You wicked, intemperate creature. Ah well, if no one’s heard us by now, there is no one to hear.”
Elf dropped the stick and leaned against the door. “But then . . . Will they just leave us here? Surely we can’t starve to death within London.”
“I’m sure it’s possible, but I won’t let it come to that.”
“Will you not? You admit to being a poor sort of hero.”
“And you are showing signs of being a sharp-tongued shrew! Desist. There are faint chinks in this door, and surely in daylight someone will have to be around. We’ll think of something.”
“I’m sorry.” Elf fumbled back toward the box. “I’m not used to being so helpless.”
“And you think I am? You clearly have no notion what it means to be an earl.”
More than ever, Elf wanted to tell the truth, but the risk of weakening this camaraderie was just too great. “Daylight will be better, even if it’s just the smallest chink. It’s the dark that frets at me.”
He sat beside her and gathered her into his arms, then pulled her down to lie half over him, on top of the box, the robe over them both. “Close your eyes and think of going to sleep.”
“You think I can sleep here?”
“No. But with your eyes closed, the dark won’t be so disturbing.”
It was better, and she even felt warm and comfortable in his arms. She feared he couldn’t be too comfortable on top of the rough wood, though.
“You’re very kind, Fort.”
“Am I? That would surprise many.”
“Why do you say that?”
His hand soothed her back, but she thought he wouldn’t reply. “I haven’t been kind recently.”
Cocooned together, they’d created a time for confidences. Elf wondered if she should permit it, for he would never talk this way to Elf Malloren. But she wanted to know him, to understand him, and she suspected that he needed to talk.
“Why haven’t you been kind?” she asked. “It seems in your nature.”
“Does it? I’m not sure I remember what my nature is. Yes, perhaps I used to be kind, if it didn’t cause me too much trouble.”
“I think you’re too harsh on yourself. You’ve been good to me.”
“Men are often good to women they want to have sex with.”
“Aha!” Elf sat up straddling him, even though she couldn’t see a thing. “You admit you wanted it!”
He chuckled. “Yes. I wanted it. To be precise, I wanted you. God knows why.”
“You can be very rude.”
“I thought you said I was so good to you.”
“You have the remarkable ability to be both good and rude at the same time.”
“Are you talking about my nature or my sexual prowess?” But then he reached out, found her, and pulled her down on top of him, twitching the robe back over them. “I’m cold.”
“You’re . . . you’re wanting again.” She could hardly mistake the evidence.
“Rampant with lust would be a good term, yes. Don’t worry, though, I’m not desperate.”
Elf adjusted her position so as not to press on him. “Why do you want me, then?” she asked, letting her hand wander over his chest.
“Ah, the universal question. Perhaps, Lisette, I just hadn’t had a woman in a while.”
“Hadn’t?” she teased. “That can’t explain the last time.”
He slapped her bottom. “Minx. That was a mad expression of relief at being alive.”
“Very well. Why do you want me now?”
“Danger makes some men great.”
“Great?” she said with a chuckle. “What interesting words you use. Why hadn’t you made love in a while? I’m sure you don’t lack opportunity.”
“Perhaps I grew tired of the incessant chatter of women.”
He was doing his best to push her away with words, but Elf burned with the need to understand this man. “I’m sure you can pay a whore to be silent.”
He pulled her close, hands hard on her buttocks. “I’m sure you’re too clever for the silly innocent you play. And yet you were an innocent. Care to elucidate the conundrum, Lisette?”
Pressed tight to him, she could feel him growing bigger and harder between her thighs. He’d brought new weapons to bear in the attempt to shut her up.
A Malloren is not so easily silenced.
“My family is not mealymouthed,” she said. “Why hadn’t you had a woman?”
He shifted and pulled her head down for a silencing kiss. Elf kissed him back, turning it from weapon into pleasure until his hand gentled and she felt the tension drain out of him. When their lips parted, however, she whispered, “Why hadn’t you had a woman?”
She had to choke back a scream at the way his hands tightened on her shoulders, but then they eased. “Because,” he said softly, “I was hurting them.”
“Hurting?” She wished she could see his expression.
“As I just hurt you.” He rubbed at the places he’d bruised.
“You hadn’t hurt me, until now.”
“With you, it seems to be different. That’s why. Why I agreed to make love to you.”
Elf settled down, head snuggled between his neck and shoulder. “I’m glad.”
“What?”
“That I’m different.”
“At least you’re not the type who likes bites and bruises.”
“Do any women?”
“Ah! At last a touch of innocence. Yes, some women like pain with sex. Some men like it, too.”
She shifted to kiss his jaw. “But not you.”
He moved so he could kiss her lips. “No, not me. So if you have a taste for the rougher kinds of love, you’d better find another provider.”
She turned her head away. “You may not like to bruise, but you don’t hesitate to lash out with words!”