She released his arm and scooted past him. He reached out and gripped her shoulder, stopping her momentum. While he was certain the men had left, he’d learned to err on the side of caution. He pulled her back into his body and whispered in her ear, “You promised.”
“Yes.” She sagged against him, arms crossed over her chest.
Silky hair brushed his cheek, the floral scent a pull to his heightened senses. The caves were dark, cold, and possibly still posed a colossal risk to explore, yet he took a second to inhale her warmth. “I will go ahead. You stay here and I will come back for you. If something happens, go back the way we came.”
A sigh of acceptance was his answer. He left her side with reluctance and moved toward the cavern where the voices had come from. The wet, damp air carried the stench of the sea. He would bet his purse that the entrance was close. The men might have tried to leave but there was a chance it was too late. He pressed against the hard cave wall, water dripping from the rock and onto his hair. It was icy cold and coursed down his neck into his greatcoat.
He peeked inside the main cavern. It was spacious with several metal sconces hammered into the limestone walls. The men had left in such a hurry, they failed to extinguish the torch that lit the space.
“Elizabeth,” he said, waving an arm in her direction. Stacks of crates, barrels of kerosene, and casks labeled brandy were tucked into a corner on a rock shelf.
She rushed in, her boots slipping on the sandy floor. “This is it.”
Hands on his hips, he inspected the ceiling above. Movement in the darkest corner revealed a colony of bats. Had the circumstances been different, he would have been interested in exploring further. “It appears so.”
“I was right.” She strode over to the nearest crate. “Can I borrow your knife? I’d like to see what is in these.”
“That’s not a good idea. If the crates are sealed, they need to remain sealed. Just because we discovered the goods doesn’t mean this is over.” He prayed Henderson might discover something on his trip back to London. Langdon had sent him to the city to see if he could gain any more information on a merchant who had been accepting the stolen goods.
“We have Randell dead to rights.”
“We still have no proof this cargo belongs to him. I know you’re excited by the discovery but we have to be careful, lest we be found out.” His findings against Randell had to be ironclad, in case Stanton stepped in and tried to cover up for the man. Langdon had no intention of allowing Randell—or his investors—to get away with his crimes.
“It is frustrating.” She looked around the cavern. Mouth pressed tight in a thin line, she visibly shuddered.
“Indeed, it is. Don’t despair. We will catch him. You must be patient.” He flashed her an encouraging smile. “I think it would behoove us to leave. The hut might not be the ideal accommodation, but it is better than these damp caves.”
With a nod, she ran her palms up and down her arms. “Indeed, even the tiny window will be welcome after the darkness down here.”
“I am in complete agreement.” Although the immediate danger was gone, they still had to make it safely back to the hut. He would have her to himself, free of prying eyes. There was one problem; if they were stuck overnight, there would be gossip and gossip came with consequences.
There was no help for it. Nature had chosen their fate and he could either fight it or accept what the morning brought.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Ipray the storm has let up enough for us to reach Waverly Park.” The journey through the tunnel back to the widow’s hut hadn’t been any more pleasant than going into it. Elizabeth shuddered at the memory. Langdon and her own stubbornness had kept her going. Although braving the elements would be rough, the result would be a cup of tea and one of Cook’s apple tarts. Had those creature comforts been here, she would have eagerly spent the night in the hut.
With him.
“My guess is no.” Langdon lifted his saddle bag from the floor and rifled through the contents. His once pristine breeches were patched with wet spots, along with streaks of dirt and grime from the cave walls.
Elizabeth pulled back the latch on the door and the wind whipped it out of her hands. Angry clouds blocked out the sun and dimness blanketed the countryside. Rain slashed at her face and battered her ears. She dug her heels in and put all her weight into pushing it shut. It was a losing battle.
Langdon appeared at her side in a thrice. His gaze locked with hers as he placed his back against the door. Legs planted, he forced the door shut. His chest rising from his efforts, he huffed out a long breath. “I don’t think we’re going anywhere.”
