A Fine Caprice - A Regency Romance (17 page)

‘Lay on, Macduff,’ he said cheerfully.

‘Yes, and
a fine time they had in
the stupid castle in Scotland!
’ she muttered, turning awkwardly and crawling forward, no easy thing when one was trying to hold a lantern. Her knees and elbows hurt almost immediately from coming into contact with the rough brick surface. She had gone perhaps five yards when her ankle was once again seized, bringing her to a halt. This time, she didn’t make a noise for which she was grateful.
She must be growing accustomed to
him taking
these sudden liberties with her body
but it was hard to get used to the familiarity males obviously felt they could take with each other
.
She looked back over her shoulder and found Lord Merridew frowning at her.

‘What did you say?’

‘When?’

‘Just
then.
You said about a castle in Scotland
.’

‘So?’

‘You know Macbeth? You read
Shakespeare
?’

He sounded accusing and she winced inward
ly
.
She’d done it again.
But really, did the gentleman have to jump on everything she said? ‘I can read. I told you. I was educated with the master’s children.’

‘A familiarity with Mr. Shakespeare’s plays seems to suggest a little more than an ability to read,’ he said, grey eyes glinting with an uncomfortably avid light.

‘They were a favorite with the family,’ she said
,
turning back and continuing on. Much more of this and he’d be looking a great deal more closely at you
ng Jem Morris. ‘They liked to put on plays
and I was always given a bit part.’
This, she decided, was a flash of inspiration. She knew several families who liked to put on their own small performances with their children.

‘I see. And which is your favourite of his works?’

‘I
haven’t read them all so I
couldn’t possibly say,’ she r
eturned, wondering if there was
another way of moving forward. Her knees and elbows
were suffering mightily. ‘Why on earth did they make this so narrow?’

‘I expect it was used for nothing more than to move boxes or as a quick exit out.’

‘It can’t have done much for the smuggler’s backs,’ she grumbled and she heard a snort of laughter behind her.

‘Yes, what were they thinking?’

Which made Caprice fold her lips together tightly. Clearly, the man thought she was a fool. Well he could think what he liked. In fact, it would be better if he didn’t think of her at all. It would certainly be safer.

The tunnel extended for perhaps three hundred – painful
– yards before coming to a stop
. ‘I’ve come to the end.’

‘A wooden panel?’

Caprice put out a hand and felt the rough wooden surface. ‘Yes.’

‘The other one was hinged and swung up and out. Just push on it and see how you go.’

She pushed. It did not budge. ‘It isn’t moving.’ And she was not appreciating the closeness of the atmosphere at all. The warmth radiating from the lantern had overheated the skin on her face, which was a nice contrast to the rest of her, which was icy cold. The tunnel was freezing. She pushed again, harder. ‘Is there a catch or something?’

‘Can you flatten yourself to one side?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, move
over
and let me try
.’

Let
him
try? But that would mean… ‘There’s no room!’

‘Well it’ll be close, but
as I’d like to get out of here before nightfall, I’m prepared to brave some discomfort.’

‘Let’s just swap places,’ Caprice said hastily, trying unsuccessfully to edge back.

‘Just push yourself up against the side and breath
e
in,’ his lordship said cheerfully. ‘It shouldn’t take long.’

Caprice bit her lip but obediently tried to press herself into the curving brick at her back. She pressed very hard but when Lord Merridew managed to wiggle himself up it was still a very tight squeeze. Broad shoulders, she thought rather breathlessly.
She had ample opportunity to admire their breadth as they were pushing against her as he serpent-slid up beside her. He gave her a grin, their faces only inches apart.

‘Tight squeeze.’

The side of his body was pressed indecently close, his hip pushing into her stomach. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, hardly daring to draw in air. This close,
it was impossible not to inhale
him in and instead of the rather unpleasant smell of sweat that might be reasonably expected from a man who had not had much opportunity to bath ove
r the past few days, he
smelt of wood smoke and soap. It was a pleasant surprise
.
Caprice found that she had to resist the urge to lean a little closer and get a better whiff. He was focused on the barrier that was keeping them there, face intent and she took the opportunity to study him at close quarters; she found that, even this c
lose, there was very little to object to
.

He gave a grunt of satisfaction when something gave a loud
click. ‘Got it! Damn, but they put the
catch further up
.’ He pushed and the
wooden trap door swung open
, once
again on well oiled hinges. Darkness lay beyond
and they both fell silent for a moment, listening. Silence.

‘Where do you think we are?’ Caprice hissed. She didn’
t much care for that
silence.

‘I don’t know. Let’s find out, shall we?’

Taking the lamp
, he moved past her, pulling himself out of the compact tunnel. When his top half was out, he paused and Caprice struggled to see past him.

‘What is it?’

‘A cellar, I think. Wait a moment.’ More movement, most of it felt rather closely by C
aprice, and then he was out
, dropping down
onto whatever lay below
.

‘Well?’ Caprice demanded,
then
belatedly remembered her place in the universe. ‘I mean, what have you found?’

‘A place that is dank, damp and dismal. Redolent with atmosphere, in fact,’ his face appeared briefly at the opening. ‘Are you planning on joining me?’

As the alternative was to remain where she was, she wriggled forward herself and half collapsed in
to a low ceilinged brick room
. It would have been a complete collapse but for his lordship’s steadying hand and she mumbled her thanks and looked around.

As he had said, they were in a cellar that was redolent with a little too
much
atmosphere. Caprice wrinkled her nose at the smell of rot and decay.
‘Where is this place?’

‘As I’m not well versed in my uncle’s abode, I’m not entirely sure but judging by the direction of that tunnel, we’re beneath the west side of the building, probably in a sub cellar
if the size of it is anything to go by
.’ His lordship was hunting around with the lantern, peering into
corners. He shot a speculative glance at Caprice. ‘Are you quite well, young Master Morris? You seem a little subdued.’

Truthfully, Caprice was feeling decidedly shaken. Unused as she was to spending time in such close proximity to a man, she had been thrust rather forcefully into intim
ate contact with somebody
who had a disturbing impact on her.
If she were quiet, it was becaus
e her body was responding to an
influx of physical awareness she
was not familiar with.
She suspected that it wasn’t so much that she was disconcerted by this man’s ability to stir a females senses – with that wicked s
park in his eyes he probably did so
on a regular basis – but more that she was not used to being st
irred in such a way. Her fiancé Eric
had not e
licited anything more
, when he forg
ot propriety enough to risk an embrace
,
than a
vague
warmth
when he had kissed her
, so tepid that she had been sadly disapp
ointed
by the experience
. Having known Eric for so long, she had not expected explosions but a few pops of delight would have been
most
welcome.
Under the most unromantic circumstances imaginable, Lord Merridew had had her insides fizzing!

He
was still looking at her, expression quizzical.

‘Rats,’ she said abruptly. ‘I don’t like rats.’

‘Ah,’ he glanced around him. ‘Yes, I daresay they abound. We won’t linger. I can’t find anything of interest anyway, just a few old crates that once held brandy. Let’s find out where this comes out, shall we?’

She nodded, hurrying to stand behind him and the welcome light of the lantern. She might be disconcerted
by her strong attraction to the
man – for there could be no mistaking the way he made her heart accelerate whenever he was near her and brought a heated flush tumbling through her body – but he was holding the only light in a place that was disturbingly dark. Not for the world would she put any distance between them now.

Lord Merridew found hi
mself faced with two mysteries.

While he was prepared to concede
that the tunnel they
had discovered
was simply one of many that networked Abbey Cross, he was eager to find the one that led to the caves belo
w the house, the one that led
to the beach. It was in these caves that he might possibly find some indication of what had been happening while his uncle was alive. The coast of Dorset was not quite as amenable
for smuggling
as those of Kent or Essex but
by all accounts trade was brisk enough
. And perhaps, if
one was dealing with transporting illicit passengers, Dorset
might be a safer option? After all, there were many eyes trained on the coastline of the counties clos
est to France but fewer looking further afield. If he could discover how deeply his uncle had been involved, then perhaps he would have something useful to offer Fenshaw.

The second mystery, for that was what it was fast turning into, was young Jem Morris, the most unusual stableboy he had ever encountered. The story Jem had told, about being
the bastard son and being brought up with the fam
ily was almost
plausible. Illegitimate offspring were a fact of life but they were rarely given room at the dinner table
. Jem’s father must have been a peculiar piece of wor
k to have even thought that including his son in such a way
would be fair on anybody. But even with s
uch unusual circumstances, the boy’s
manner seemed to indicate that he had been indulged to a remarkable degree. Not that the lad was insolent. He was willing enough and had offered his services readily. Hell, the boy could e
ven put together a rudimentary
breakfast, which was a laudable talent
. But there was a note in that young voice when he wa
sn’t thinking; an impatie
n
t
assurance that did not quite match up with the history he had recounted.

Cass could not imagine that any wife would happily have tolerated a bastard son in her midst. And if she had been forced to do so, she would have made that child’s life hell in a t
housand different ways so
that they knew they were inferior at every turn. If the tale Jem had told him were true, he should be far more diffident in his manner. Instead, he
spoke
with a
confidence
that seemed to suggest he hadn’t been quelled nearly enough.

He
climbed
a
stee
p set of stairs
, Jem at his heels, clearly uncomfortable with his surroundings
for he was
hanging
very
close
behind
. His lordship glanced back at the boy, noting the a
lmost feminine curve of the cheek, the straight, delicate nose and a full mouth th
at would have looked at home on the face of
a girl
. Truthfully, Jem Morris must still be very yo
ung for he had none of the harder angles of a man’s
face
, while his slim body had yet to fill out and grow a pair of shoulders
.
Cass couldn’t work the boy’s situation out and he found it irked him.
He’
d always been keen on solving puzzles and
something
about Jem Morris
ti
ckled at his well-honed bone
of curiosity
. There was more to t
his lad than met the eye. Not that it mattered, really
. He would give him a shilling in a few days when his service
s were no longer required and
would
likely
never see Jem Morris again. Best just to leave it…