The earth tremor was an eternity of fear that must have lasted less than a minute. When the ground had steadied and the last of the rumbling died away, Randolph lifted himself away, gravel showering from him. His voice ragged, he asked urgently, “Elizabeth, are you all right?”
Shakily she pushed herself to a sitting position. By some miracle, her spectacles hadn’t fallen off. “I think so. Thanks to you.”
She inhaled some dust and doubled over coughing. When she could speak again, she continued, “Thank you doesn’t seem strong enough. I thought my hour had come. How are you?”
“A fairly sizable stone hit my shoulder, but nothing seems to be broken.” He winced as he stood and brushed himself off, then examined a ripped sleeve ruefully. “However, my hat is gone forever and my coat seems unlikely to recover. My valet will be heartbroken, This coat is one of his favorites.”
This time Elizabeth was grateful to accept his assistance in rising. “Is it one of your favorites as well?”
“I am not permitted to have opinions about matters that fall within Burns’s purview, and that definitely includes coats.” He looked beyond Elizabeth, then gave a soft whistle. “Fortunate that Sofia gave us so much food, for I fear that we may be here longer than we expected.”
Elizabeth turned cautiously, grateful when Lord Randolph put a firm hand on her arm. She bit her lip in dismay at the sight behind. About ten feet of the path had disappeared completely. It made her dizzy to look down, knowing how near an escape she had had.
Beyond the gap, the path seemed intact but was covered with rubble until it curved out of sight around the hill. “I hope Vanni is all right,” she said, “for both his sake and ours.”
“I’m sure he is,” Lord Randolph said. “He and the carriage were on solid, level ground.”
Confirmation came almost immediately when the driver’s voice shouted from around the corner, “Signorina, signore!”
Elizabeth called back, reassuring him that they were well, then explaining that part of the path had collapsed so they could not clear the rubble away themselves. After the driver replied, she translated, “Vanni say the path is clear and solid just around the corner, so it shouldn’t be too hard to remove the fallen earth from that direction. He will go back to Balzano to get men to dig and planks to bridge the gap.”
“What if the town has been badly hit by the earthquake?” Randolph asked grimly. “They may have more serious concerns than two stranded foreigners.”
Elizabeth relayed his comment, then the driver’s response. “Vanni says that this was only a little tremor. If the earth had not been soft from rain, there would be no problem here.”
“Let us hope he is right. Tell him that I will pay the men he brings an exorbitant amount of money for their help, and double that if they can get us out this evening.”
Another round of shouting and answer. Elizabeth shook her head at the reply. “Vanni says that it would be impossible to get anyone to come tonight since it’s Christmas Eve, but he swears that tomorrow we will be free sometime between Mass and the midday meal.”
Randolph sighed. “I suppose that will have to do.” He turned and picked up the basket from where he had dropped it when the tremor hit. It had survived intact, if somewhat the worse for wear.
Elizabeth followed him back to the temple site. Still a little shaky from her escape, she was content to sit and watch while he explored the whole area, foot by foot.
Eventually he returned, saying, “If, God forbid, Vanni doesn’t return, I think I could manage to climb over and around the landslide area, so we won’t be trapped here indefinitely.”
She looked at the steep rock face and shuddered. “I hope it doesn’t come to that!”
“I don’t think it will, but I'm happier knowing there are alternatives.” He looked at the sky and frowned. “The sun will be down in another hour, and it’s going to be cold without any shelter. Fortunately I brought my flint and steel so we can light a fire, but there's precious little fuel. Previous visitors have used most of what was available, but with luck we'll find enough wood to keep from freezing tonight.”
For the next half hour, the two of them gathered wood and stacked it by a shallow depression in the rocky cliff. It wasn’t even remotely a cave, but it offered the best available protection from the weather. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at the results. “It isn’t a very impressive woodpile.”
“It should be enough.” He retrieved the lap rug from the basket and handed it to her. “You'd better wrap yourself in this.”
She accepted the lap rug gratefully and wrapped it around her shoulders, wishing that it was twice as large and thrice as heavy. “Women’s clothing is not designed for winter.”
For lack of anything better to do, Elizabeth sat down with her back to the cliff, drawing her knees up and linking her arms around them. To the southwest, the massive black silhouette of Vesuvius dominated the horizon. The only signs of man were a few distant farm buildings. The scene could as easily have been Roman as in this civilized year of 1817.
Above the rugged hills, the sky was shot with gold and vermilion, while a nest of violet clouds hugged the horizon and welcomed the molten sun. Nodding toward the sunset, she said, “We may have a long, uncomfortable night ahead, but that is almost adequate compensation. How often do we take the time to enjoy a sunset?”
“Not often enough,” Randolph agreed, settling down on the temple steps so he could admire nature’s flamboyant artistry.
Despite the spectacular sky, Elizabeth found that more of her attention was on her companion, who sat less than a dozen feet away. Hatless and disheveled, his hair touched to liquid gold by the waning sun, he was no longer the impeccable English gentleman. Now the power that underlay his gentle courtesy was visible.
She felt a faint sense of disquiet. Might Lord Randolph decide to take advantage of their enforced proximity to attempt seduction? If he did, she would be helpless before his superior strength. . . .
With an appalled shock, Elizabeth realized that shewantedhim to try to seduce her. In fact, her devious lower nature was delighting in a situation that could allow her to submit with a clear conscience, absolved of sin.
Unfortunately, her vicarage morals were not so easily fooled. Hugging her knees closer, she chastised herself for being a shameless, disgusting creature. If Lord Randolph was the sort of man who would take advantage of their situation to force his attentions on her, he was not the man she had fallen in love with and she wouldn’t want him.
