He crouched and watched her wiggle her way under the stone, fearless to the core. Yet another thing on a growing list of things he admired about her. “Can you see anything?”
“Light. I see light. There appears to be some kind of pond that’s reflecting off the walls. It is quite lovely.” She disappeared and seconds later reappeared, head and shoulders squeezed through the hole, and motioned to him. “The wall curves, which made the slit look narrower than it is. Come on, you must see this for yourself.”
On his belly, he crawled to the opening, aware of the heavy stone ceiling. Once at the smaller tunnel, he turned onto his side and was able to sit upright and pull himself to a standing position. The blue glow of the pond was hauntingly beautiful and while he was grateful for the light it afforded, it made them vulnerable.
Elizabeth grinned, her lovely mouth parted to make a comment. He placed his finger to his lips and shook his head. Until he was assured they were alone, talking was out of the question.
Eyes wide, she nodded, worrying her bottom lip. Her very kissable bottom lip. He avoided her gaze and scanned the area, listening intently for any sound that was out of the ordinary. After a few minutes of nothing but the steady rushing of water into the pond, he leaned close to her ear. “I think we should have a look about. Unless you would rather stay here while I explore.”
She squared her shoulders; one slender hand clutching at his free one. “No, I will come with you. I have been most eager to explore these caves.”
“Then watch your step and stay close.” There was a short corridor running from the chamber to the next. Langdon scooped up a rock from the uneven floor.
“What are you doing?” Her words were barely above a whisper.
“Marking our way,” he said, scratching a large X in the wall where they just came from. “We may need to find our way back.”
Slender fingers curled around his, her excitement palpable. “Well done. Have you explored many caves?”
“No, only a prison in Spain.” The months he had spent in the hellish place had been fraught with uncertainty and anguish. He had trusted Maria’s story that she was being abused by her elderly husband, only to find out it was all a lie. Granted, the Count was known for his brutal nature, but his wife was equally as cruel in the way she manipulated him. Luckily Stanton had bribed the local officials and obtained his release.
“Were you frightened?”
“Are you frightened?” He pulled his memories from the dark place, made even more frustrating by the reminder of how prominent Stanton was in his life. In the past, his mentor had been merciless in his pursuit of lawless criminals. For him to forget about investigating Randell was still incomprehensible to Langdon.
“No,” she said.
“Good. Becoming hysterical is the last thing we need right now.” He dropped her hand with reluctance. While he enjoyed their banter, he had to keep focused on the task at hand.
“Yes, you should remain calm,” she retorted.
Biting back a rush of laughter, he rounded a corner and halted at the flicker of light cast off the cavern wall. He stopped in mid-step and Elizabeth bumped into him.
“You do what you want but I ain’t going to get stuck here, Jimmy,” came a disembodied voice.
“Boss says we have to stay and watch the cargo,” Jimmy said, his tone much deeper than that of the first man.
“Jimmy is the blacksmith,” Elizabeth whispered near his ear.
“The storm could last for days. Me wife will kill me if I am gone that long. The farm don’t care for itself.”
Langdon pulled his knife from the sheath in his boot. If the men were aware of them, they gave no indication. So far, there were two men. Who knew how many more?
“But the boss said—”
“—Boss says a lot of things. Storms around here last for days. If we can’t get in, nobody else can,” the farmer cut in.
“I don’t know—”
“We’re running out of time. The path will be under water soon. I am going home. You can do whatever you want.” Retreating footsteps could be heard, followed by a heavier tread.
“I don’t want to stay here by myself,” Jimmy said, his voice fading.
He gripped the knife handle and listened for more movement. “Do you recognize the voice of the farmer?” he asked under his breath.
“No, I am sorry. Do you think they are gone?” Elizabeth clutched at his sleeve, her body pressed against his back.
The soft curve of her breasts threatened to distract him. The fact she was wearing breeches still titillated his imagination. The storm raged outside, and it would be dangerous to ignore the weather. “My guess would be yes.”
