“What are you looking for now?” Phillip called after her.
“Another way out,” she replied without pausing her search.
“I’m afraid the door we came in is the only way out, and it’s quite sturdy when locked, believe me. Malcolm locked me in on enough occasions for me to become an expert on the subject.”
Sophie came back to stand in the center of the room near Phillip, still holding the lantern. She expelled a deep breath. “Damn it.”
Phillip’s brows shot up. “Cursing, my lady? Is the situation so dire?”
She turned to him, an incredulous look on her face. “Isn’t it? We need to find a way out of here. Let’s get started.”
“There’s no use,” Phillip replied, turning slowly in a circle. “This room has thick stone walls and no windows. The door is solid wood, and the lock is huge, from what I recall.”
Sophie nearly stamped her foot. “Fine. What do you suggest, then?”
Phillip shrugged. “I suggest we stay here until ‘master’ arrives.”
“But we already deduced that Master is clearly Hugh,” she said, exasperated. “Who else would bring us to Graystone Manor?”
Phillip shrugged. “I’m certain Hugh’s a part of it and whatever is meant to happen here is supposed to result in my death.”
Sophie eyed him warily. “You seem far too cheerful to have just said that.” She shook her head, her brow furrowed. “If you think they’re going to kill you, why won’t you help me find a way out?”
Phillip shrugged again. “Because I want to know who else is a part of this. I want to know who you heard speaking to your stepmother.”
“Well, then, we disagree, because I’d rather not remain here and find out, and I think you’re mad for wanting to stay.”
Phillip grinned at her. “I want to know who killed my brother, and I have a feeling if I remain here long enough, I will find out.”
Sophie blew air into her cheeks before slowing releasing it. The man had obviously gone mad. Perhaps the blow to his head had been worse than she’d thought. “That’s your plan? Stay and be murdered?”
“I never said I intended to allow them to murder me,” he replied with a chuckle.
“Fine. You sit around and wait for them to decide your fate. I’m going to try to get that door open.” She hoisted the lantern into the air and determinedly climbed up the stairs.
Nearly an hour later, Sophie had given up her attempt to open the blasted door. It was made of rock as far as she was concerned. She tried everything she could think of, including slamming her body against it, kicking it, and cursing it. Nothing seemed to make it budge, and she’d only managed to rip a hole in her rumpled skirts.
She had made enough of a racket that the smaller of the two men who’d abducted them came back. She convinced him to take her to use the convenience. But afterward, he escorted her right back to the cellar door and ushered her inside.
Disheartened, she trudged back down the stairs to see Phillip sitting on the only piece of furniture available, a small cot near the wall of wine. He was using a rock to sharpen the knife they’d used to remove his ties. God-knew-where he’d found a rock. Sophie made her way to the middle of the dusty room, where she sat next to Phillip. The moment her bottom touched the mattress, an overwhelming feeling of tiredness came over her and she let out a long, loud sigh. Phillip set the knife and rock on the ground and put an arm around her, pulling her softly to cradle her against his side. She tipped toward him. Reveling in the feel of his muscular arms around her, a sense of safety enveloped her. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep in the embrace of the only man she’d ever loved.
Sophie slowly lifted herself from the cot and stretched. Good heavens. She’d fallen asleep. The thin lumpy bed was hardly the sort of accommodation she was used to, and after the uncomfortable coach ride and the distress she was under, it surprised her she’d been able to sleep at all. But she couldn’t deny that she felt rested. How long had she been asleep? The darkness in the room gave no hint as to the time. It could be afternoon. It could be evening.
Blinking, she glanced around the large space. The lantern was still burning by the bedside, casting a dull glow across the room. Where was Phillip? She frowned. He was nowhere to be seen and the knife and rock appeared to be gone, too. Fear spiked through her middle. Had they come to get him while she’d been sleeping? Had Phillip already met with harm? Had Hugh killed him like he had Malcolm? Another horrible thought followed quickly on the heels of the first. She might well be in danger herself. If they did intend to kill Phillip, or already had, she would be a witness. She’d merely been at the wrong place at the wrong time and been abducted with Phillip accidentally. Hadn’t she? What could Hugh possibly want with her?
A man’s voice drifted through the floorboards from above. She froze and held her breath, listening intently to hear his words.
“You are an imbecile. I should have managed all of this myself.”
Sophie gasped and quickly clasped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. She recognized that voice. It was the same one that had been speaking to Valentina in Papa’s salon. Sophie still didn’t know who it belonged to, however. Was it Lord Vining? Perhaps. She still couldn’t be certain.
“How was I to know they would take Sophia too?” came Hugh’s wheedling voice. That voice she would know anywhere.
“You should have made it clear!” came the first man’s voice.
Just then, Phillip emerged from the darkness at the back of the room. Sophie’s eyes flew wide. She hadn’t seen him before. He had been hidden in the shadows. Sleeping too, perhaps? He opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but she held up a finger in front of her mouth to indicate silence. Then she pointed to the ceiling.
Phillip strode forward quickly and they both stood together, listening.
