“Cold,” she murmured but kept her eyes open.
“I know. I am too. Come now, stay awake. Tell me something else about Cuilean. Tell me about the ghosts.”
Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her cold nose in his neck. “I’m so sorry I made you come down here.”
He laughed, hugging her to him. “I was anxious to get you alone. At least we’re not locked in the icehouse, right?”
“Probably warmer there,” she mumbled with a tiny smile. “You don’t have to hold me. I know I must be getting heavy.”
“You’re as light as a feather.” She shook her head but at least she was still smiling. He loved her smile. It carried warmth and caring and was bestowed frequently upon everyone around her. He’d never met another woman like her, and Ian doubted that there was even another to be found. Though he’d known her only a few days and knew there was much more to learn about her, he felt that he truly didknowher.
For once, the insanity of it all sat well with him. Ian rested his forehead against hers and whispered softly, “I know it’s madness to say this. I must tell you. I love you, sweet Hero.”
He felt her chilly fingers gently touch his face and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. They were shiny, filled with happiness at odds with their current circumstances. “I love you, too.”
He kissed her tenderly, then rubbed his nose across hers, earning another soft smile.
“Daughter! Where are you?”
Dropping his cheek against hers, Ian released a relieved laugh. “I doubt I’ve ever been so happy to hear those words.”
“Neither have I.”
Hero squeezed his neck and he returned the hug, relishing the rush of joy in knowing she would be all right. “If I’d known all I had to do to get us rescued was create a moment worth interrupting, I’d have done it long ago.”
She grinned tiredly then, and after insisting Ian let her stand on her own, joined him in calling for Beaumont’s attention and verbally guiding him to the door. They heard Simms's voice as well as they argued about the keys and eventually managed to open the door.
“There you are, Daughter,” the duke said with a broad smile as the door swung open.
“Hello, Papa,” Hero said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “I’m so glad you found us.”
Taking her by the hand, Ian urged their small party farther up the passage and away from the water. He was eager to get her out of the cold and into a warm bath.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Beaumont said, as if he were unaware that they were wading through several inches of water. “How was your day?”
Sharing a droll look with Ian, Hero said only, “Fine, and yours?”
“I milked a cow!”
They turned to Simms, who was trailing them, lifting his trouser legs to keep them from the water. The nurse shook his head defensively against the silent accusation. “I was there, my lady. It seemed to cause no harm to his grace…or to the cow,” he added as an afterthought.
Slowly they climbed the many flights of stairs while Beaumont rambled on about the cow. Ian held Hero’s arm, assisting her along the way as the dungeons connected to the cellars until they reached the door that opened to the servants’ hall outside the kitchen. The effort cost them dearly and when Ian shut the thick door finally blocking the cold drafts away, she slumped again him.
Ian called for his staff, ordering the first to appear to prepare a hot bath for Lady Ayr. He then turned to Beaumont and gave him a quick hug, pressing a hard kiss to the side of his head. “Thank you, Harry. We owe you our lives.”
“My feet are wet,” was the duke’s only response.
“Come, your grace,” Simms rushed to perform his duties. “I’ll get you some dry stockings and shoes.”
“You should put on some dry stockings as well, Daughter,” Beaumont said as Simms led him away. “I shall have your mother bring you some and a nice cup of tea.”
“Papa…” Hero started to remind Beaumont—again—that his wife had died, but Ian stopped her with a gentle hand.
“It can wait, my love. Come now,” he said. “Harry is being taken care of. Now it is your turn. Let’s get you warmed up.”
She nodded tiredly, weakened by the climb up from the cellars, but when he led her to the servants’ stairs, which were closer, she just stared up at them with a weary sigh. He swept her into his arms once more and started to climb despite her protest. “None of that now. The quicker you’re out of those wet clothes, the warmer you will be.”
“You need to get out of your wet clothes as well.” Her words brought a warm suggestive light to Ian’s eyes, and Hero blushed becomingly. He was glad to see some color flow back into her pale cheeks.
