Chapter 24
Rhys twisted so that his body would take the impact of the fall rather than his legs and he was surprised when he landed on something softer than he expected. Though there was a jolt to his body, it did not stop him from hurrying to his feet and looking around for his wife.
He spotted the torch a short distance away and was grateful it still held its flame.
He hurried over and snatched it off the floor, seeing that he stood on thick wood planking.
He swung the torch up above his head to cast a wider light so that he could find his wife and when he spotted her prone body face down, fear gripped at his heart and he let out a slew of curses as he hurried over to her.
His arm brushed across something in the stone wall as he reached her.
It was a metal sconce and he rested the torch in it before dropping down beside his wife.
He had stopped praying a long time ago, so it was not a prayer that rushed to his lips but a warning that if anything happened to her, he would rage war on the heavens.
With a gentle touch, he turned her over on her back and was relieved to see her stir. “Heather,” he said forcefully, and then more sternly, “Heather, open your eyes.” For once, she listened to him and opened her eyes.
A smile slowly surfaced, seeing Quinn staring at her, his dark eyes full of concern and anger. Anger? Quinn rarely grew angry. She was about to ask him what was wrong when he snapped at her.
“Do not dare move until I see if you suffered any harm.”
“Rhys,” she said softly, recalling what had happened and not surprised to see him there. “You followed me down the hole.”
He leaned closer to her. “I would follow you to hell, if necessary, though I do not believe they would want you there, since you would not obey the devil himself.”
“I obeyed you; I remained in the keep.”
“And when I told you to move?”
“I did not want you to get hurt,” she said and attempted to sit up. Pain shot through her shoulder, and she let out a moan.
Rhys let out another slew of curses beneath his breath for arguing with her when he should be tending her, and he snapped, “Do not move!” And when he saw a tear gather in the corner of her one eye, he silently cursed himself again and went against his own command.
He gently slipped his arms under her and lifted her onto his lap to sit back against the stone wall and cradle her in his arms.
She rested her head on his chest with a sigh.
“You are in pain?” he asked.
“Only my shoulder,” she said, wincing as she gave the shoulder not tucked against him a lift.
“Do not move it,” he ordered.
“It probably took the brunt of my fall and is already bruising.”
Rhys brought his hand up to rest on her shoulder, then caressed it slowly to see if he could feel anything.
Heather almost sighed aloud with how pleasurable his tender touch felt until he touched one particular spot. Pain shot through it, and she bit back the gasp that hurried to rush out. She did not want Rhys to know. He would forbid her to do anything, but rest and she wanted to do anything but that.
“I do not feel anything. Nothing else pains you?”
“Nothing, but what of you?” she asked concerned that he had suffered an injury in the fall.
“I am fine,” he insisted and moved his hand off her shoulder to rest at her waist. He wanted nothing more than to simply sit there and hold her and know she was unharmed.
“Are you certain?”
He squeezed at her waist. “I will let you run your hands all over my naked body and see for yourself as soon as we get out of here.”
The image of her doing just that had her saying, “We should hurry and leave here.”
“First, we must determine where here is.”
Heather brought her head up off his chest and looked around. “Is this the secret passage?”
“I am assuming it is, though the lack of care and age has taken a toll on it.”
Heather got to her feet with some help from her husband and they both stood and looked around.
Their fall had been cushioned by a pile of blankets and a variety of garments.
Heather yanked one out, holding up a cloak and seeing it had been a feast for rodents with its many holes. She tossed it back on the pile.
After taking in all of the small space, Rhys said, “From the looks of it, this is a spot where the family could wait out a siege in relative safety and take their leave if it should prove necessary. Time, dampness, and lack of care took its toll on the wood.”
Heather dropped her head back to look up through the hole. “How far do you think we dropped?”
“Most times you find thicker wood planks closer to the bottom of the keep than the top, so I would say we are somewhere nearer the bottom.”
“Rhys!” The strong shout echoed down the hole.
It was Pitt and Rhys shouted back to him. “We are good and looking for the way out.”
“I will wait, though not long,” Pitt yelled to him.
“He will send men?” Heather asked.
“If it takes too long for us to find our way out of here, then warriors will start dropping through the hole.”
“Then we should hurry and save them the fall. Besides, I need to touch every inch of you to make certain you are unharmed.”
Damn if he did not grow aroused at the thought of her doing just that and he reached out and grabbed her arm just as she took a step away.
She gasped and shut her eyes against the pain, and he got angry at himself and her.
“You are not being truthful with me. Your shoulder suffered worse than you told me.”
“It truly is not that bad. It is the thought of you ordering me to rest that proves more painful and has me holding my tongue.”
Rhys stepped closer to her and dusted dirt from her braid, his fingertips grazing her breasts, which of course stirred his arousal even more and flared his annoyance.
Heather laid a hand on his chest and hurried to speak before he could. “Believe me, Rhys, I am fine. I would not lie to you about that.”
He placed his hand over hers. “I will have your word on that, wife.”
“You have my word.”
He gave her a quick kiss, not trusting himself to linger. “Good, then let us find our way out of here so you can find out for yourself if I suffered any wounds.” She smiled and he took her hand, then grabbed the torch from the sconce. “Follow close behind me.”
They made their way along a brief narrow passage that led out of the room to wood stairs.
Rhys turned to Heather and said, “Wait here until I see if the stairs hold.”
Heather waited and watched as her husband took the stairs slowly and disappeared beyond the curve, leaving her in complete darkness. It was not long before light filtered around the curve and Rhys returned.
“One of the steps not far from the bottom has rotted away and a few creak loudly so be careful, tread lightly.”
Heather followed behind him, his pace slow and cautious.
“Wait here,” he said just before he came to a stop, and she did as he said. He extended his leg, clearing three steps at once, then he placed the torch in a sconce on the stone wall. He turned and reached his hands out to her. “Jump.”
She did not hesitate; she jumped into his arms. He caught her around the waist, holding her firm as he swung her away from the steps and lowered her to her feet.
Her hands rested on his forearms and she gave them a squeeze and she did not know why, but she felt the urge to tell him, “I love you, Rhys.”
He stilled, suddenly unable to move.
“Whether you ever love me or not, does not matter. I will love you always,” she said and kissed his cheek softly.
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“That is not an answer,” he argued.
“But it is. Why would I not love you? There is nothing to stop me from loving you.” She squeezed his arms again. “And there is nothing to stop you from loving me.”
“You ask too—”
She hurried to press her fingers to his lips, forcing him to be silent. “I ask nothing of you. Simply give whatever you wish to me as I will to you. I love you and nothing is ever going to change that.”
He brushed her hand aside. “We will see.”
He turned and reminded, “Stay close.”
One day. One day, she thought as she followed along, he will tell me he loves me.
After several twists and turns and jumps into Rhys’ arms, they came to a dark tunnel. The entrance yawned like a giant’s mouth in front of them.
Rhys held the torch high. “Dirt walls and wood beams.”
“Will this take us away from the castle?” Heather asked, peering around his shoulder.
“We shall find out.” He turned his head toward her. “The tunnel appears narrow and may get narrower. Keep your hand on my back at all times, so that I know you are there behind me and in case we lose the light.”
The scent of earth grew stronger and stronger as the passageway grew so narrow that Rhys’s shoulders brushed the dirt walls, sending some of the dirt flying into her face.
Try as she might to ignore that the walls seemed to be closing in on her, she was not able to and with fear in her voice, she called out, “Rhys!”
He stopped and eased himself sideways and she immediately tucked herself under the crook of his arm, planted her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, and there she stayed.
Rhys felt her body tremble and knew her fear. He had experienced the same gripping fear himself the first time he had entered a similar narrow passage. But there was little room to console her here and little time to linger.
“How can you walk this barely passable corridor with no fear?” she asked, fighting the fear that any minute the walls would collapse around them and bury them alive.
“Fear was forced out of me through the years.”
“I cannot believe that fear does not touch you in this confined space,” she said and shivered.