“I can’t hear you. I’m coming down.” A rope trickled down through the hole to dangle just above her.
“I was just saying I’ve ruined another dress.” She thought of Brendan’s broad shoulders and looked askance at the hole. “Perhaps you should just pull me up. I don’t think you can fit through the opening. You’re much too large.”
“I’m coming,” he insisted.
As she waited for Brendan to come down, Petra walked over to the other side of the cave, measuring the length with her footsteps. She’d read to do that in one of the books she’d skimmed on caves. Something glittered against the far wall and Petra looked up to see another hole in the limestone, with a bit of sunlight coming through.
“Brendan, there’s another hole. Possibly a bit larger. Something is shining on the far wall. Does Blue John shine?” Although, if she found Blue John it would be on Simon’s property. “We don’t have to tell Simon.”
Cursing echoed in the small chamber. Brendan was having difficulty fitting through the hole. Shehadwarned him.
“Petra.” Brendan grumbled somewhere above her. Another string of curses followed.
Whatever was on the far wall glittered where the light hit it. She walked forward, careful to move slowly so as not to trip over anything on the floor of the cave. A circle of light appeared in the right-hand corner. “I was right, there is another hole.” She looked up.
“What? Petra, wait for me.” She could hear him scrambling down the rope but instead of waiting she moved toward the bit of sunlight. Birds sounded above her and the floor inclined up. This portion of the cave couldn’t be very deep at all. Petra moved closer, but stopped abruptly, clapping her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Not that it would have mattered if she had screamed. Her companion in the cave was well past hearing.
* * *
The thinghe’d feared the most had happened.
The most sickening feeling had clawed up inside him when he’d turned and found her gone with nothing but the trickle of pebbles to announce she’d been swallowed up by the limestone. He immediately knew what had occurred. The area was laced with holes and small caves.
He wasn’t very good at praying, feeling it an occupation best left to elderly matrons and vicars, but Brendan found himself pleading. Begging. He wouldn’t touch her again, he promised, just let her be all right. Brendan ran for his rucksack and the length of rope. His eyes searched between the tall grass and sprinkling of small bushes looking for where she could have fallen.
I’ll even let her marry Simon.
Possibly not the last part. He didn’t think he could allow that.
When he heard the muffled sound of her voice coming from somewhere beneath his feet and saw the cloud of dust she was kicking up, Brendan almost wept with relief.
The hole wasn’t very wide, barely big enough for him to lower himself down. After securing the rope from his rucksack, he rolled up his sleeves, twisted the length of rope around his arm, and slowly made his way down.
His shoulders stuck, scraping against the edges of the limestone. One of the scrapes started to bleed. As he moved, the wind began to kick up, dirt rising to the air to stick to his still sweat dampened face and throat. Brendan glanced up at the sky.
A storm was rolling in. He needed to hurry.
Brendan could see the outline of Petra in the cave. She said something about another hole than moved from his sight.
What the bloody hell…he was rescuing her.The least she could do was to stay put until he could do so.
She reappeared a few minutes later, below him again, her face tilted up as he snaked down the rope.
Brendan dropped the rope and fell to the floor of the cave. He immediately grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her slender form. Pressing a kiss to her temple, he held her tightly against him, telling his racing heart to cease its panicked beating. Petra was safe. Unharmed. And struggling.
“Brendan.” Lips moved against his chest. “I can’t breathe.”
He loosened his hold but didn’t release her. Instead he cupped the side of her face with one hand.
“I’m fine, Brendan. I promise.” She assured him. “Nothing broken. A tiny tear in my dress. Much smaller than the one you made.” Her lips turned and she pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand.
His head thudded. Hard. “You were stuck in a coach. What else was I to do?” Brendan looked back up at the hole he’d recently come through.
“You needn’t have come down. You should have just pulled me up or told me how to get out.” Petra said. “Though now that you’re here, I’ve something to show you.”
“It’s only a cave, and not a very exciting one, I’m sure. Besides, I’ve no lamp with me. And there’s a storm brewing across the moors. We don’t want to be caught in it.”
She shook her head. “This will only take a moment. Then you may haul me to the top like a sack of grain. I could probably climb, but not in skirts.” She looked down at his leather breeches. “I’d need a pair of those. Jemma has several. She tells me His Grace seems to like them.”
