Then she drew a deep breath before starting an aria fromCarmen. She wasn’t terrible. A few passages were too high-pitched. Very high-pitched. And off-key. She fared better with the low notes.
In retrospect, he should have told her not to do it. Likely, his eardrums had been permanently damaged. Having nowhere to go, the sound of her loud singing bounced off the walls, getting amplified and punching everything in its path.
They both laughed when she finished. When he burst out laughing, his throat burned, so unused it was to laughter.
They resumed walking down the tunnel.
“Blimey.” He touched his ears. “That was powerful.”
“And only you heard me.” She had barely spoken before voices came from the other side of the tunnel.
“Did you hear that?” a man said.
“A woman was screaming.”
“It sounded like she was being murdered.”
“We must check the grounds. Find the gamekeeper. Tell him to bring the rifle.”
Isabella clamped a hand over her mouth. “And now what?”
He wanted to stay serious, but another laugh burst out of him.
“This way.” He took a lateral passage and guided her up a flight of stairs.
As they went to the upper floors, the voices of the servants came muffled until they died down.
She was breathing hard when they arrived at an arcade. “Silly idea.”
“No. I think I was mistaken about the width of the walls. Anyway, now we know the walls don’t block the sound.”
“Mother would kill me if she knew.”
“I promised you no one would see us, and I always keep my promises.”
He stopped in a dark nook when footsteps thundered from around the corner. She pressed herself against him, and he didn’t mind. He liked it.
He glanced at her flushed face and the excitement radiating from her. She was brimming with life and happiness with her curious attitude, and her energy was contagious. For the first time in years, he’d laughed and been excited. He’d forgotten how excitement felt. The rush of blood through his veins was foreign to him.
“I think they’ve gone,” she whispered.
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“I feel like a spy.”
He shuddered when she held his hand in a casual gesture. He had no explanation for the flutter in his chest or the sense of dizziness taking him.
Through yet another door, they arrived at an anteroom behind one of the cloakrooms, far from the drama unfolding on the other side. She released his hand, and he nearly snatched her hand again as a moment of nonsensical panic hit him. His chest heaved with a breath.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “Are you worried?”
“No.” Yes, but not in the way she meant. He was worried he would never be as happy as he’d been with her.
“I hope I didn’t cause you trouble. Well, aside from…” She waved in the opposite direction. “…the fact your servants now believe a woman has been murdered in your castle.”
He chuckled, and the oppressive feeling left him. “I’ll manage. Through that door, you’ll get to the corridor where your room is. If you’re careful, no one will see you, and anyway, at this time, the servants should be downstairs in the kitchen and the dining room, getting ready for dinner.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” She smiled. “The afternoon has been most exciting.”
And he found himself smiling, too. “Be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me.” A mischievous twinkle sparkled in her eyes. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”
Somehow, he doubted that.
