Almost an Angel (27 page)

Thud.

He connected with her temple. She had expected the blow, bracing for the pain and accepting it. What caught her by surprise was the impact, the force that threw her backward off her feet. She stumbled. Fell. Then her thoughts exploded into starbursts of pain radiating out from the side of her head.

Her world went dark.

Chapter Nineteen

"I find it most odd. Do you find it odd, Mary Ann?"

"Absolutely. Most odd."

James leaned against the mantel and tried to maintain a polite facade as Lady Merrill discussed Baron Handren's departure
ad infinitum
. To them, news of Waterloo and Napoleon seemed secondary to the state of his betrothal to Carolly.

"One would think he would remain to celebrate his niece's match," said Lady Merrill.

"Absolutely," agreed her daughter. "One would think he would. Perhaps he was not too pleased with the match."

"Oh, I cannot imagine that," said Lady Merrill. She slanted James a coy look. "After all, the earl is a wonderful specimen of a man. Why, anyone would be thrilled to have him in their family."

"Anyone," echoed her daughter.

James took refuge in his brandy glass.

"In fact," continued the mother, "if for some reason someone found a match not to his liking, I would think that he would be anxious for a family who would embrace him wholeheartedly."

"Wholeheartedly."

James looked up to see both mother and daughter regarding him with sheeplike adoration. It was all fake, he knew. These two were the most calculating females it had ever been his misfortune to meet. They had been trying to snare him since their appearance at the breakfast table only moments after Carolly's departure. And he was cursed by good breeding that forced him to entertain them. Whatever had induced Carolly to invite such title-grubbing females into his home? Or him to allow her?

"What do you think, my lord?" asked the daughter, batting her eyelashes at him until she looked as if she had a twitch.

James groaned, throwing good manners to the wind. "I think," he said, pushing away from the fireplace, "that I must go for a ride."

Mary Ann hopped up. "What an excellent idea. I would simply adore a ride."

James nodded, his expression as polite as he could make it. "My stables are, of course, at your disposal." Then he turned on his heel and left, having absolutely no intention of waiting around for her.

As he had told Carolly not more than an hour ago, he needed time and space to think.

Yet his ride did nothing to ease the confusion in his mind. His mind seemed to echo one word: Waterloo. And while the rest of England was celebrating the event, it merely gave him pain.

Everything Carolly had predicted had come true. Which meant she was not insane. Which meant she just might be an angel. Or at least a pre-angel. Or whatever she said.

And at that his mind completely rebelled.

He was not entirely sure why the concept tormented him so. Most men would be thrilled to discover their betrothed was rational. Except her claims were not rational, and he could not find a way to reconcile the two.

And if that were not enough, one other thought rose to torture him, presenting itself to him in unadorned logic, despite the illogical situation: If everything Carolly had said was true, then she had indeed decided to try to circumvent the will of Heaven; had given up her directive to become an angel to stay on Earth as his wife. The thought was humbling. She had given up
everything
for him. And all he had done was laugh at her pain, calling her plans fantasies.

He had been insufferably arrogant, secure in his own egotism in the most appalling fashion. And yet, still his mind rebelled, still he fought what she claimed was simple reality. How could she possibly be an angel? She could not. But then, how had she known about Waterloo?

The circle began again, spinning about in his mind in a never ending dance of nonsense. Except it was not nonsense. It was all very, very real.

James reined in Shadow, slowing his horse to a steady walk as he reluctantly turned toward home. He had accepted Carolly when he thought her mad. Could he not accept her as she truly was?

But how did one lie with an angel, or a pre-angel, or whatever she was? How could he touch her without thinking of Heaven and God and all the things she'd been meant to do? How could he look at her every day and see the woman, not the creature out of time and reason?

He could not. And yet, could he give her back to God after having touched her, having loved her, and most of all, having brought her inextricably into his life?

He entered the stable yard, refusing the stable boy's assistance. He wished to care for Shadow himself, buying himself more time away from his guests. He had barely begun the rubdown when Garrett found him.

"It is about time! I have been waiting an age for you."

James straightened, eyeing his heir over Shadow's back. "Good God, man. What happened to you?”

Garrett's hair was matted with sweat and a dark gash disfigured his left cheek. His clothing was smeared with grime, and his eyes burned bright, almost eerily intense. James had never seen such absolute purpose in his cousin.

"What has occurred?” he asked, alarm surging through him.

Garrett shook his head. "I tried to stop them." He spread his arms wide. "You can see that I did."

James stepped past his horse, wishing his cousin would come out of the shadows. The stable was dark enough without having Garrett pressed against the corner of the stall. "What happened?” he repeated.

"It is the villagers. They have taken Carolly to the mines."

"What!"

"I do not know that they intend to harm her. They merely wished to speak with you and are using her to lure you there."

James turned quickly, fitting his saddle back onto Shadow while panic squeezed his chest tight. "How many are there?”

"Four, maybe five. They simply wish to speak with you." Garrett seemed breathless and excited. His words stumbled over one another until he almost babbled. "She is in the mines."

James quickly mounted, but his cousin held Shadow's head, steadying the horse while he continued in earnest undertones: "Go in the entrance, down the first ladder . . ." He then gave directions that James committed to memory. "I shall get Wentworth and some of the footmen," Garrett promised. "We shall be moments behind you."

James paused, despite the pounding of his heart, using all his personal power to impress his feckless heir. "I am relying on you, Garrett. Do not fail me."

"I shall not." Then Garrett smiled, the expression both reassuring and odd at the same time. But James did not have the time to ponder. His entire body clenched in fear for Carolly, and his mind flashed hideous pictures of what might now be happening to her.

She was alone with possibly angry, violent miners. James backed Shadow out of the stall, then turned quickly, intending to ride out of the stable. He nearly missed the small figure opening the door until he heard her soft call.

"Uncle?"

He reined back to avoid trampling her. "Margaret! Get out of the way!"

She jumped backward, her eyes large, dark spots in the gloom. "Uncle! Are you going to see Carolly?”

"Yes. Stay inside and wait for my return."

"But—"

"For God's sake, child, listen to me just this once!" Then he rode off, damning himself for winding Shadow earlier. What would he do if he arrived too late?

***

Carolly awoke to blackness. At first she thought she had not opened her eyes, and she blinked them several times to make sure. It was moments later that she came to the inescapable conclusion that she had gone blind.

It wasn't until she tried to move that she realized something else was dreadfully wrong. Her hands were bound behind her back. Her feet were also tied.

Other sensations began pouring into her befuddled brain. The side of her head throbbed painfully. She lay on a cold hard surface, and her clothing was damp. A rock stuck painfully into her upper arm.

She tried to shift position, crying out in alarm as she rolled slightly, dropping her face into a small puddle of slimy water. She gasped, rearing backward, shifting position once again until she was away from the liquid. Another rock cut into her hip this time, but at least she wasn't drowning.

It was then she realized that her cry had sounded odd. She tried again, speaking in her normal voice. "Hello?”

Hello . . . hello . . . hello.
Her word echoed eerily.

"Hello?" she called, louder this time. Then she took a deep breath, screaming for all she was worth. "Help!"

The sound of her voice came back to her, the echo muffled and garbled. Carolly closed her eyes, fighting the panic that rose within her as her memory came flooding back. And with it, Garrett's plan in all its hideous glory.

She was in the mine. Garrett had brought her here as bait. Soon James would arrive, and Garrett would kill them both for the inheritance. But why had he left her alive in the first place? She did not know.

Carolly blinked her eyes, though that did little to ease her mind. She was still surrounded by total darkness, the silence absolute except for her breathing. Unsurprisingly, Garrett had not left her any light.

Desperately, she grappled with her panic, forcing it into submission as she tried to assess her situation. It was completely dark. And totally silent. And while that lack of sensation ate at her sanity, it also told her she was alone. It meant James hadn't arrived yet, and so there was still time for her to escape and warn him.

She turned her head, reassured now that she had decided on a course of action. First thing she had to do was find a way to cut the cords that bound her hands and feet.

She tested her bonds, disappointed to find Garrett had used a thick rope, tying the knots painfully tight. It would take her forever to work free. Still, she had nothing better to do, and excellent reasons to work quickly.

She struggled to sit up and finally managed it, although she scraped her elbow raw in the process. Then she began working on freeing her hands. The bonds were too tight for her to slip free, so she maneuvered around until she found a pointy rock. She shifted until she pressed her wrists against the sharpest edge and began to rub the rope against it. After ten minutes, she curled her fingers, trying to feel for some sort of progress.

"Great," she said aloud just to hear some sound. "At this rate I'll be free sometime next month."

But still she kept doggedly on, unable to bear the thought of remaining trapped here, helpless, while Garrett murdered her beloved.

"I won't fail you, James. I swear."

***

James approached the mine with all his senses alert. He watched for signs of a struggle, for footprints, anything. He was open to all possibilities, even to the thought that Garrett had masterminded this entire affair to lure him here.

He did not want to think the exuberant boy he remembered from so many years ago could have become so bitter, so evil as to plot his death, but he could not dismiss that thought either. There were too many holes in Garrett's story.

If the miners wished to discuss something with him, wouldn't they have gone through their foreman? He was always willing to meet with them, to hear their grievances and discuss solutions. Most of them knew that.

Most of them.

As for the others, they tended to quick violence with little premeditation: A gang attack, like the one on Carolly and Margaret so many weeks ago. But would they be prone to violence on a holiday from their work? Right after the festival and in the wake of the Waterloo celebrations? Not likely.

Which meant something highly unusual had caused this circumstance. Or Garrett had lied.

Whichever the case, one thing was certain: Carolly was in danger. The question was: could he trust she was here in the mines where Garrett had indicated? Garrett's clothes and body clearly showed a struggle. From the dirt and grime, James guessed he had indeed been here. In addition, James found an isolated set of deep hoofprints.

Carolly was probably here.

He could only pray she was still alive.

James approached the mine entrance obliquely, searching for someone or something out of place.

Nothing. It looked deserted.

Abandoning that entrance, he rode swiftly to an alternate hole. Garrett had given him specific directions to an unstable tunnel, near the top but abandoned for lack of ore. Although there was only one entrance to that particular tunnel, there were two ways to the corridor just before it.

If there were any hidden booby traps or kidnappers hiding along the route, he would likely bypass all of them by using the separate entrance. It was a slightly longer route, but he reasoned he would make up the time by not searching around every corner for some trap.

He spurred Shadow onto a gallop, fear eating at his reason. He begrudged every passing second away from Carolly, every moment when he could not assure himself of her safety. But he had to move logically, with forethought, or he might very well get them both killed.

***

Carolly was growing frantic. The rope that bound her wrists was still stubbornly thick. She had barely managed to fray a few of the threads, and yet she was running out of time.

Only a few minutes ago she had heard a noise like a footfall. She hated sitting here in the dark, imagining bugs, rodents, spiders, all sorts of monsters, real and unreal. Her imagination was working overtime. She might have heard a footfall, maybe the echoed sound of someone breathing. Or maybe she'd heard her own gasp as she accidentally scraped her wrist for the thousandth time.

She didn't know.

There was only this oppressive feeling that time was running out.

Working harder at the rope, Carolly gritted her teeth against the pain and felt the bonds grow slick with blood and sweat. Then she chanced to glance up.

Was it lighter to her left? Had the darkness grown the tiniest bit more gray? She couldn't tell, but her mind was working feverishly.

Should she call out? If the light was Garrett returning to kill her, then she was no worse off. But if anyone else chanced to be wandering the mines today, she needed to grasp this chance.

"Help!" Her voice echoed up and down the tunnels, coming back to her in haunting cries. She bit her lip and tried to slow the frantic beat of her heart as it pounded in her ears. She had to listen, had to hear if someone responded.