Chapter Twenty
C lifville’s abode is indeed a proper castle,” Alexander said with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s even crumbling in a picturesque way. I suppose it is the dream of every boy to storm one. I didn’t think it would be the legendary Arthur’s, though.”
Georgina tried to muster a smile, knowing that Alexander was attempting to dull the fear sweeping through her, Jack, and even Alexander himself. The ancient fortress was designed to impose, with its keep rising out of the cliff. Half of the once-massive edifice had fallen to ruin. Judging by the east wing, part had even tumbled into the sea.
“I’m a smuggler, not a burglar,” Jack said, his normally hearty voice faint. “How are we to even begin breaking into such a place?”
“We follow the dog.” Alexander gestured to Ruffian Caesar, who was gnawing his own back leg with great gusto in the small circle of light that they were allowing to escape from their dark lantern.
“The… the dog?” Jack asked, glancing helplessly in Georgina’s direction. The poor lad probably thought he’d exchanged one deluded noble for another.
Georgina shrugged. “Ruffian Caesar is actually very adept at sneaking in and out of buildings.”
“Your mutt…” Jack trailed off and shook his head. “This… this isn’t how this sort of thing is done.”
“Do you propose that we just walk up to the front gate and demand entrance?” Alexander asked.
“Well, no,” Jack admitted, “but surely we could climb into an open window or…”
“But then we’d be on the main floor of a huge structure with a layout completely unknown to us,” Georgina pointed out. “We all agreed on the journey here that Lord Clifville would likely imprison Percy and Tom in the dungeons.”
“As befitting a man who thinks he’s a direct descendant of King Arthur,” Alexander added. “I would wager my curricle that there is a round table somewhere in that castle.”
“With my helmet sitting in the middle of it,” Georgina concluded bitterly and then felt ashamed for fretting over her treasure when Percy and Tom were suffering. “But more importantly, castles of this age often had escape tunnels in the event of a siege. If there is a secret passage, Ruffian Caesar will hopefully find it.”
“For how long are we to stalk after a mutt?” Jack asked wearily.
“Just until there’s enough daylight to look ourselves. It’s already close to dawn.”
“But the terrier is still chewing its leg,” Jack pointed out.
Georgina knelt down by Ruffian Caesar. She had little hope in their plan working, but it wasn’t as if they could see much in the dark. And the little dog did love his treats. A cool dungeon dug into an ancient hillside would be the perfect place to store his favorite crunchy vegetable. Georgina mustered all the enthusiasm that she could and shouted, “Turnip!”
Ruffian Caesar’s head immediately shot up. In the faint moonlight, his left eye glistened against his white patch of fur while the rest of his small face was lost in the darkness.
“Find the turnip! Can you find the treat?” Georgina cajoled.
Ruffian Caesar sprang to his feet. Georgina braced herself to follow, glad she was not encumbered by skirts. Beside her, Alexander adjusted his cane. Even Jack shifted his body into a running stance.
Ruffian Caesar gave a joyful bark… and then turned in a circle. Six times.
“Perhaps we should dig for an entrance here?” Alexander joked.
Georgina sent him a baleful look. Jack snorted and then lifted his hand to his mouth in an attempt to hide his mirth.
“Turnip. Go get the turnip.” Georgina bent low as she tried again.
It worked. At least a whit.
Ruffian Caesar executed a happy bounce and started sniffing. Everywhere.
“It is a good thing the sky is starting to lighten,” Jack muttered.
Georgina ignored him. She didn’t think their plan would succeed, but admitting the truth would mean acknowledging the seriousness of their circumstances. Perhaps Alexander had begun to influence her more than she’d thought. Laughter really could be the best shield.
Ruffian Caesar snuffled along the bumpy cliff, scrambling here and there. Georgina trailed him closely, with Jack reluctantly accompanying her. Alexander stayed on the beach, and Georgina knew that he was scanning their surroundings, his hand resting on the butt of his pistol.
Just as the sky began to turn a pearly gray and a thin band of light appeared on the horizon, Ruffian Caesar gave a happy woof. He performed a little doggy dance, his entire body writhing in utter joy. As Georgina climbed over the mounds of grass and lumps of exposed London Clay, she heard an unexpected, but entirely familiar, sound: doggy toenails scrabbling against wood.
Georgina fell to her knees and pulled away a thin layer of vegetation beneath Ruffian Caesar’s paws. Sure enough, a trapdoor emerged. The planks were weathered and dried by the sea air. Ignoring the orange flakes that rubbed off onto her hands, Georgina yanked on the rusted metal loop in the center. The ancient wood had become light with age, and she easily lifted the cover. Below was a tunnel that sloped into the hillside.
“I don’t believe it.” Jack crouched down next to Georgina. “It beggars belief.”
Georgina didn’t wait to respond to Jack. She simply sprang to her feet and flew down the hillside toward Alexander. “Ruffian Caesar found it! He actually discovered a tunnel!”
“I never doubted our little conqueror,” Alexander said and held out his arm. “Care to assist me up the slope?”
Georgina linked her elbow with his and together they climbed. Jack half slid down the grade to join them. He took ahold of Alexander’s other side. Despite no path existing, the three of them managed to get Alexander swiftly to the secret entrance.
Pausing to whine mournfully every few moments, Ruffian Caesar paced impatiently. He didn’t even wait until the humans reached him before he darted into the opening in a clear pursuit of turnips.
“Do you wager that it’s safe?” Alexander asked as he tapped at the hard-packed ground with his walking stick while Georgina shone their dark lantern into the circular gap.
“London Clay is good for making passageways,” Jack explained as he stuck his head and shoulders inside. “Much easier than mining in Wales. I’ll go first, since I’m armed and familiar with narrow spaces.”
“Here. Take the lantern,” Georgina said as she held it out to him.
The passage was smaller, tighter, and definitely longer than that of the cave on her land. As they drew deeper and deeper into the hillside, an astringent, rotting odor permeated the narrow space. Her eyes watered from the stench, but she could hear Ruffian Caesar noisily licking the air. The scent did have a turnipy twinge, as if it was coming from a giant decomposing pile of the vegetable.
Suddenly, Ruffian Caesar emitted an excited sound halfway between a huff and a woof. All she could see in front of her was Jack’s feet and legs, but she could clearly hear the dog’s paws thudding against the London Clay. The tunnel didn’t only funnel sounds but amplified them.
A few beats later, Georgina detected a noise that made her limbs shake. Not from fear. But from utter relief.
“Swounds, is that a dog?”
Percy.
That was Percy’s voice!
“What is a mutt doing in this bloody dungeon?” Percy asked, sounding remarkably like… well… himself. “Is… is it eating one of those disgusting turnips?”
“Apparently so, my lord.” Tom was speaking now, his tone respectful on the surface, but wry underneath.
They were both alive! Perhaps not unscathed but in good enough health and spirits to have retained their sense of humor.
“The only dog that I’ve ever witnessed enjoying that noxious root so much is…” Percy trailed off. “Wait, that scruff does look exactly like Ruffian Caesar!”
“He does indeed!” Tom no longer sounded covertly sardonic but excited.
Georgina wondered if she should call out. A guard could be stationed with the men, but the two were talking so freely. Still, she did not wish to expose their presence too cavalierly.
“Here, boy!” Percy called. “Come here… Oh, would you release the bloody turnip for one moment and come over here!”
“I don’t believe shouting will make the dog wander more closely to us,” Tom observed drily.
“I am going to have to reach over and grab one of those disgusting, slimy roots, aren’t I? Why am I the one locked in with the turnips?”
“Most likely because you started shuddering and gagging when the earl brought us down here,” Tom pointed out. “Be glad we have access to a food cache.”
“But they stink!” Percy complained. “And are, ugh, slick to the touch. Ewww. If only they’d shriveled instead of half rotted. Here, Ruffian Caesar! Here’s a lovely, half-putrefied treat. Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Moldy, lumpy, rooty goodness. Mmmmmm!”
Just then Georgina noticed a glow that wasn’t coming from the lantern. She was almost certain now that Percy and Tom were alone, but there was no point in stopping precautions. Not when they were so close.
The tunnel opened enough for the three of them to crouch now, although Alexander continued to crawl—probably since he could move faster that way with his leg. She had a good view of Jack, who had his gun at the ready. The flickering light grew brighter.
“Jack!” Tom sounded overjoyed, but then his tone changed to worry. “What are you doing here? You’ll be caught!”
“Georgina! What the hell! And what are you wearing? Alexander, is that you, too?” Percy shouted when Georgina finally stepped into the exceedingly malodorous dungeon with Alexander close behind.
Although the torches burning on the wall were not exceedingly bright, it took a moment for Georgina’s eyes to adjust. When Percy wasn’t nattering away, she could hear the steady drip of water. A mildewy scent mixed with the more powerful stench of the turnips. When she could see, the undercroft matched what her other senses were telling her. There were cracks in the masonry, and the stone walls glistened with moisture—at least in the places where mold wasn’t growing. It was hard to tell how deep each cell was, but Percy and Tom stood pressed against the iron grates in front of theirs. The other chambers contained crates and barrels, presumably of foodstuffs.
Percy had fading bruises on his face, and he’d lost weight. His normally impeccable clothes were stained and even torn. Still, instead of leaning heavily against the strips of metal, he stood straight. His eyes were alert, and he didn’t seem to be in obvious pain. Tom, who’d been taken captive later, looked in better shape. He only had a scrape on his cheek, and he wasn’t much thinner than before.
“Alexander, did you bring my cousin here? I never took you for a fool!” Percy attempted to rattle his door, but the sturdy bars didn’t even jiggle. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”
“Alexander is accompanying me, not the other way around,” Georgina told her cousin crisply. Despite the fear pulsating through her, she had no intention of being viewed as a helpless damsel. “And yes, we are well aware of the current peril, which is why we have no time to dawdle. This discussion can occur after a successful rescue. Now, do either of you know where a set of keys are?”
“Over there.” Tom pointed his thumb in the direction of an iron rod sticking out of the wall with a large ring hanging from it.
“Well, that was unexpectedly easy,” Alexander said. “It’s definitely quieter than shooting the locks with our pistols. Saves lead, too. I suppose it’s so convenient since this is chiefly a warehouse now.”
“Good lord, when did you become so logical?” Percy asked. “You sound like Georgina. I thought only she could transform a dungeon escape into a series of practical steps.”
“Our chief strategy has been relying on a dog’s love for turnips, so I think you might be a tad premature in calling us rational.” Alexander sent Percy a grin before he unhooked the key ring and began unlocking the doors.
“Can you both walk unassisted?” Georgina asked, ignoring the banter entirely. She wanted to be free of this frightening place. She didn’t trust that a guard wouldn’t appear, even if Lord Clifville was allegedly on his way to London.
“I might waver like a drunken sailor from eating nothing but turnips for over a week, but I’ll make do,” Percy said as he exited his cell. He was favoring his right foot, and he did sway a bit, but he stayed upright.
“I will be fine.” Tom’s gait was stiffer than normal, but he seemed steadier than Percy.
“We found—or rather, the dog found an old hidden tunnel,” Jack said as he gestured to the entrance.
“Jack should lead, as he’s armed,” Alexander instructed. “I’ll guard the rear.”
“We can’t leave yet!” Percy protested, shocking Georgina.
“Whyever not?” she demanded. She was accustomed to her cousin acting cavalierly, but certainly he understood the gravity of their circumstances.
“We need the helmet, the spoon, and the painting!” Percy insisted. “I saw them when Clifville dragged Tom and me through his castle before tossing us into the dungeon. We even had to stand in front of that damn artwork while he explained his plans.”
“I cannot believe I am saying this, but the helmet isn’t important right now.” Georgina gripped her cousin’s hand. “I have no idea what the other objects are or what precisely you’re talking about but—”
“Clifville is on his way to London to poison the entire court and kill the king!” Percy exclaimed.