“So you say, but I can assure you that I have had good reason to stay away from Society all these years. Give me a few more days to bolster my courage and I shall show you what I mean.”
“It will not change anything between us.”
He winced. “I would hope not, but I also have to be realistic. As much as I like you—however dependent I seem to have become on your company in the short time that we have known each other—I cannot ignore the fact that you are beautiful while I... I am anything but.”
“You must not say that!” He drew back, her sharp tone visibly shocking him. “Don’t you dare tell me that you are less deserving just because your face happens to be scarred. In my eyes, you are the hero who went to war and fought for his country, the man who suffered torture at the hands of his enemies, the very same man who could have taken advantage of me several times over by now, but who refuses to do so because he is at heart a gentleman.” She struggled against the tight knot forming in her throat while her eyes burned with emotion. “You deserve every bit of happiness in the world, including...”
“What?”
She shook her head, almost gasping for air. “Nothing. I...” She blinked. “It is nothing.”
He muttered something incoherent before saying more loudly, “Considering your very impassioned speech just now, I daresay that it is not nothing. Will you tell me what you were going to say? That I deserve everything, including...”
She took a deep fortifying breath before diving in headfirst. “Me,” she whispered, feeling ridiculously self-conscious all of a sudden. “I was going to say, me.”
Silence fell between them, filled only by the soft trickling of water against the stone and the gentle splash that it made as it spilled into the river. Gradually, almost as if realizing he ought to do something, Richard stepped away from the boat and came toward her. “Winning your hand, would be the greatest honor,” he said when he was finally before her once more.
“Then take courage and trust that all will be well.”
With a slow nod, he took her by the hand and began leading her over to the tunnel. “I will,” he assured her, “but you have to know that revealing myself to you is going to be more difficult than anything else I have ever done before in my life. Your opinion and what it will mean... I know what you have said and I have no doubt that you believe it to be true. Nevertheless, I must prepare myself for disappointment, and I advise you to do the same, in spite of your convictions.”
She said nothing further, knowing all too well that the subject had already been pushed beyond the bounds of comfort. So she followed him instead, hoping that they might find something else of interest to distract them from the awkward atmosphere that seemed to have fallen upon them.
“Tread carefully,” he said, his hand closing more firmly around hers as he slowed his progress. Descending over a slight ledge, he helped her down, shining the light to reveal a turn in the tunnel.
“Do you think Lady Duncaster knows about this?” Mary asked, her curiosity heightened at the sight of more sconces and torches inserted into the rock. “This was clearly deliberately built beneath Thorncliff’s foundation and actively used.”
“I have no idea, though I suppose someone in recent history must have been aware.” He stopped next to one of the scones and studied it more closely. “There is no telling when the tunnels were built. In all likelihood, they were here before the Thorncliff that we know today, but the sconces and torches... they appear to be modern in style.”
“It would have taken years to construct such a passageway.” It was difficult to fathom how long exactly.
“I suppose so, but think of the mines that have been built here in England, or the tunnels located beneath Rome. Have you read about those in any of your books?”
“No,” Mary confessed. They continued walking, the glow from their lanterns pushing back the darkness as they went while pebbles crunched beneath their feet.
“Apparently, Rome contains a vast structure of underground passageways dating back thousands of years to when the city was first built.” He halted abruptly, almost causing Mary to stumble.
“What is—”
“Shh!”
She paused to listen, aware of a faint rustling sound, almost like leaves blowing in the wind. Except it couldn’t be leaves, considering their current location, which meant that it had to be something else. The most alarming part of all was that it seemed to be growing louder. Her first thought was that it might be a swarm of flying insects, but that too seemed somehow illogical.
“Bats,” Richard said. Spinning toward her, he pulled her down to the ground without warning and flung his cape over her head just as the air stirred to life around her. Mary instinctively felt like leaping to her feet and running, especially when the bats dipped low enough to brush against her back. She shuddered in response, huddling closer to Richard who knelt beside her, his arm draped securely around her waist.
“Are they all gone?” she asked when it was once again quiet.
Pulling his cloak away from her, he helped her to her feet. “I believe so.” He continued forward while she followed hesitantly behind, ready to duck down again if the need to do so arose. A few more paces and she heard him suck in a breath.
“What is it?” she asked, edging closer to where he was standing.
“Something that is bound to astound you.”
Curious, she hurried up alongside him and peered through the yellow haze illuminating the space beyond the tunnel as Richard held his lantern forward. It took a moment for Mary to comprehend what she was looking at, all things considered. Eventually, she said, “This appears to be a foyer.” It wasn’t nearly as large as the one inside Thorncliff Manor, but it was impressive in its own right, the floor a mosaic of intertwined ropes, spiraling disks, animals and warriors, combined in the most intricate pattern that Mary had ever seen. The ceiling was flat, though beautifully painted in bright shades of blue and red. Across from where they stood, a thick pair of columns marked a doorway.
“My lady?” Richard inquired.
“It is beyond compare,” Mary whispered, scarcely able to believe that she wasn’t dreaming.
