A Reckless Match Page 22

He sat up and began searching around for his shirt, and she watched him, too exhausted to move. The candlelight glanced off the muscles of his shoulders, the sleek lines of his arms and chest, and a lump rose in her throat as she studied him with unashamed admiration. He really was beautiful, honed to masculine perfection by the rigors of war.

  He found a handkerchief in his jacket pocket and used it to clean his wetness from her skirts, and she sat up too. The realization that she was naked on her top half rushed in, as if she was waking from a dream, and she became aware of the hard stone beneath her, the distant trickle of running water.

  As Gryff refastened his breeches, she tugged up her shift and pushed down her skirts.

  How did sophisticated ladies deal with these things? How should she act?

  A flash of jealousy stabbed her as she realized he’d probably been in this situation many times, while she was in uncharted territory.

  She pulled on the rest of her clothes and stood. She tried to move away, to gather herself, but Gryff caught her chin so she looked him in the face.

  “Don’t get shy on me, Maddie. People do this all the time, every minute of the day and night. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I’m not ashamed. Just … thinking.”

  His lips quirked. “That’s even worse.” He straightened the dusty lapels of her jacket, like an officer inspecting his troops, and gave a brief satisfied nod, then bent and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “There, boots. Ready for anything.”

  Her heart was still hammering in her chest but she managed a slight, dazed nod. Perhaps he was right. After surviving such a cataclysmic event as making love with Gryff Davies, was there anything she couldn’t do?

  Chapter 40

  Gryff stepped back and turned his attention to the strip of gold in the wall. “Right. Let’s see if we can pry some of this loose. Might as well take a few chunks with us.”

  They set about gouging at the rocks and managed to extract a fistful of nuggets ranging in size from a pea to a child’s marble. Maddie placed them securely inside her brass tinderbox and glanced over at Gryff in question.

  He dipped the toe of his boot in the inky water, watching the ripples radiate out across the dark expanse. “Have you a scrap of paper? Or a ribbon? Something that will float?”

  She handed him a wrapper from one of the mints. He tossed it onto the surface of the water, and the two of them watched as it drifted about aimlessly. She was about to turn away when the little white scrap picked up speed and started moving to the left.

  Gryff let out a grunt of satisfaction. “Ha! I knew it—there’s a current. Which means this water is flowing from somewhere, to somewhere.”

  “It could be going deeper underground,” she cautioned, even as he set off, following the progress of the paper. “We’ll end up in Hades,” she muttered.

  “Already there,” he called back over his shoulder. “I’m fairly certain my personal hell is having a gorgeous woman and a pile of gold, both within arm’s reach, and not being able to do what I want with either of ’em.”

  The scrap of paper neared the edge of the cave and began to rotate in an ever-decreasing circle. As they watched, it disappeared, sucked beneath the surface of the water by some unseen force.

  Gryff held out his hand. “Another scrap?”

  The second wrapper followed the same route as the first.

  “Well, that’s obviously one way out,” he said. “There must be a tunnel under the water. I don’t fancy going that way, do you?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  He turned and retraced their steps, past the crack where they’d entered the cave, which Maddie marked with a big chalk X, and around the opposite side of the lake. They rounded a rocky outcrop.

  “It’s getting shallower,” Gryff said excitedly. “And look there.” Regardless of his boots, he stepped into the ankle-deep water and started splashing toward a large arched tunnel that appeared to be the incoming source for the lake.

  “Let’s head upstream. It’s not deep, and the current isn’t strong.” He beckoned her.

  Maddie glanced at the candle. “All right. But only for a short distance. We’ll have to return to the rockfall soon or we’ll run out of light.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She twisted her skirts and tucked them up at her waist.

  “Leave your boots on. The rocks are too sharp for bare feet.”

  The frigid water immediately seeped into her ankle boots. They started down the tunnel, which was wide and smooth-bottomed, as if the underground river had scoured its way along it for thousands of years. The sharp fangs of stalagmites disappeared, but the farther they went, the deeper the water became.

  By the time it reached her knees Maddie was finding it increasingly difficult to push forward against the current. She muttered in frustration and Gryff reached back and caught her hand. His strong fingers enclosed hers, steadying her and lending strength and confidence.

  The water was so cold. When it reached her thighs—which was still only up to Gryff’s knees, curse him—she tugged on his hand. “We should go back.”

  “Not yet. Just a little farther.”

  Exhaustion was tugging at her limbs, and she knew she’d almost reached the limits of her endurance. The cold was seeping into her bones. She could barely feel her toes; they were so cold they felt almost hot, a strange sensation.

  He turned so his broad back was toward her. “Come on, jump up. I’ll carry you piggyback.”

  “What? No!”

  He rolled his eyes at her maidenly objection. “I can’t believe you’re still worried about propriety. We’re in a cave. There isn’t a society matron in sight.”

  “It’s not that. I’m too heavy.”

  He gave her that you’re being ridiculous look she’d grown to hate. “I carted a hundred-pound pack halfway way around Europe, and carried wounded men twice your size. Come on.”

  He balanced the candle on a rock and bent his knees to make it easier for her. With a resigned sigh she swiveled her satchel so it was behind her, steadied her hands on his shoulders, and jumped up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking them above the jut of his hips, and heat flushed her entire body as every indecent inch of her pressed to every glorious inch of him.

  He juggled her weight, readjusting her to his satisfaction, and her cheeks burned as he curved his left arm beneath her bottom, to hold her in place.

  Tristan had often carried her about like this when they were younger, obligingly galloping about the estate as she pretended to be a knight on horseback. But she wasn’t a child any longer, and the man holding her was definitely not her brother.

  Her entire body felt alive. Her breasts were plastered against his back, her stockinged calves rubbed over the top of his thighs, and her core was pressed indecently against his lower back. She felt shamefully exposed, with only the thin cotton of her drawers between her and his coat. The warmth of him seeped into her everywhere they touched.

  It was the reverse position to the one they’d taken in the library, and for a brief, mad moment she wished he would turn around within her arms, push her up against the wall, and just kiss her senseless.

  She tightened her grip on his broad shoulders as he reclaimed the candle with his free hand.

  “There. Good,” he murmured.

  His voice was low, rougher than before, and Maddie pressed her face into his shoulder with a little feminine smile. Was he trying to ignore the feel of her, too? To test her theory she slid her palm down, over his chest, shamelessly tracing the masculine swells, and bit back a gleeful chuckle when he reached up and clenched her hand tight with his own, stopping her explorations.

  “Enough of that,” he said gruffly. “You’ll have plenty of time to grope me after we get out of here. Take the candle.”

  Maddie did so, allowing him to hold her under her knees with both hands as he pushed forward. The water rose to his waist, and the current strengthened as the tunnel narrowed. Soon he fou
ght for every step, edging forward, testing for a good foothold before he moved.

  “We really need to turn back now. It’s too deep.”

  Her skirts were soaking; they sagged in the water, a heavy, unwelcome encumbrance. She was in awe of his strength, his dogged persistence, but this was a fool’s errand. They needed to retrace their steps to the rockfall or they’d be stranded in darkness.

  “Gryff, come on. Turn around. We’re running out of candle.”

  His growl of frustration reverberated against her chest. “All right. Fine. You win.”

  He stopped and started to turn, but an unexpected surge of water made him stagger and they lurched sideways. Maddie’s leg hit a rock, and she gasped as she was suddenly submerged up to her chin. The rushing water caught her skirts and dragged them out behind her like a sail, and she grabbed at Gryff’s shirt in desperation.

  “Gryff!”

  His hands tightened around her legs, but the candle hit the wall as she flailed upward reflexively. It fell with the tiniest hiss into the surging stream.

  They were plunged into utter darkness.

  “Bollocks.”

  His grim pronouncement echoed around them. Maddie groped blindly for his neck and clasped him with both arms, desperate for an anchor in the sudden pitch black.

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—”

  His grip tightened. “Shh. It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

  His calm confidence quelled her instinctive panic and they both stilled, adjusting to this new and unthinkable dilemma. The harsh panting of their breath mingled over the sound of the rushing water.

  “Right. Well. Not an ideal situation, I’ll admit,” Gryff grunted.

  Maddie choked back a despairing laugh. God, she loved his humor, even in the face of disaster. Had he faced similar hopeless situations in the war with this same dry fatalism?

  “I’m turning around. Keep hold of my neck.”

  He turned his body within the circle of her arms—first propping her sideways on his hip, as a mother carried a toddler, then bringing them chest-to-chest. Maddie hooked her ankles together behind his back and clung to him like an octopus. The reassuring strength of his arms made her weak with relief.

  He had her. He wouldn’t let her go.

  His cheek brushed hers as he readjusted their position, and she rested her chin on his shoulder.

  This was it, then. The end. There was no way they could possibly find their way back, even as far as the lake, in the dark.

  An odd, calm acceptance washed over her. They’d clearly reached the end of their luck. They’d die of cold before they died of starvation. Or drown.

  At least she wasn’t alone.

  * * *

  Gryff tilted his head back and stared sightlessly into the darkness, even as he tightened his grip around the impossible woman in his arms.

  Her cheek slid against his, and from the way her breath puffed against his lips he knew they were nose-to-nose, though he couldn’t see her. Her skin slid against his as she angled her head and brushed her lips lightly against his own, apparently emboldened by the darkness.

  “You’re killing me,” he groaned.

  The sweet mounds of her breasts were plastered against his chest, and the perfect peach of her bottom was nestling in his hands. His cock sprang to attention, heedless of the frigid water and the fact that they’d only just made love. He leaned back, balancing them both against the wall of the tunnel as his knees threatened to buckle.

  So easy. God, it would be so easy. Her legs were already around his waist. It would be the work of a moment to free himself and push into her. Heat and heaven.

  The tip of his cock rubbed against the valley of her bottom and he dragged her down against him in an agonizing slow tease. She shivered. He pulled his hips back so his rod was pressed between them, first against her stomach, then lower, in the space between her legs. Her breathy gasp brought a half smile to his lips, despite the dire situation.

  God, he wished he could see her, the expressions on her face.

  “No,” he said firmly. “The next time we make love, Maddie Montgomery, it’s going to be in daylight, and we’re both going to be naked, so I can see every glorious inch of you. I didn’t survive all those battles in France and Spain just to die in some miserable cave. We’re getting out of here. And when we do, I’m going to give you a practical demonstration of every word Johnson left out of his bloody dictionary. Are we clear?”

  He felt, rather than saw her nod.

  Chapter 41

  Maddie let out a long, regretful sigh and pulled back a fraction in a pointless attempt to read Gryff’s expression in the dark. And then she blinked, because she really could see his features, just slightly.

  She frowned, sure she was imagining it, but the outline remained: his slant-cheeked silhouette in the darkness. “Gryff,” she whispered. “I can see you.”

  He grunted.

  She turned her head, squinting over his shoulder down the tunnel. Sure enough, the curved wall was faintly discernible in the slightest gradation of grays. “There’s light. That way.”

  Still holding her, he turned them both.

  “You see it, don’t you? It’s lighter over there.”

  He didn’t answer. He simply started wading in that direction. Maddie held on to him tightly, her excitement rising as they neared the paler section. The water surged higher, up around her waist, and she felt herself grow buoyant as it took most of her weight.

  Gryff was breathing hard with the effort of pushing them both through the water, and she unwrapped her legs from around his waist and started to float.

  “Wait,” she said breathlessly. “I can swim. Just … let me get rid of my skirts.”

  He stopped and held her securely under the arms as she fumbled to undo the buttons at the side of her skirts. Her fingers were almost numb with the cold, and her teeth were chattering, but she was too excited by the prospect of seeing daylight to care. She managed to kick her way out of her skirts, and her petticoats, and felt them catch the current and drift away downstream like some strange jellyfish.

  She was left in her bloomers and knee-length chemise, but her legs were free to move.

  “Better. Let’s go.”

  Gryff released her tentatively, waiting to see if she could manage on her own, and she pushed forward in the water, kicking her legs in the breaststroke she’d learned as a child. The chill of the water made her catch her breath, but she set out briskly toward the patch of gray.

  Details of the ridged walls became more distinct. The tunnel curved sharply, and she sucked in an expectant breath as it got even brighter.

  A perfect circle of pale light bounced and shimmered on the surface of the water ahead. She glanced up, and her heart skipped a beat as she realized it was coming from an aperture in the roof of the tunnel.

  “It’s a hole!”

  Gryff grabbed her arm to steady her as he placed his feet back on the bottom. “It’s better than that.” He grinned, and she saw his teeth glint in the new brightness. “It’s a shaft. A well.”

  The light was too insipid to be sunlight. Maddie couldn’t calculate how long they’d been underground, but judging from the amount of candle they’d burned, it must have been several hours. Which meant darkness had fallen, and they’d been saved by a bright moon and a cloudless night.

  A rocky shelf jutted out from the wall, a flat section of strata almost like a table. Gryff hauled himself up onto it in a surge of water, then reached for her hand and pulled her up next to him. She collapsed in a dripping heap, her body a hundred times heavier now that she was out of the water.

  Something silvery glinted in the moonlight. She reached over and picked up a silver coin. “Look at this! A sixpence.”

  Gryff peered down through the crystal-clear water. Now that they were higher, Maddie could see the bottom was littered with hundreds of tiny, glittering objects. Pins and coins and all manner of metallic things.

  “The
y were thrown into the well for good luck,” she breathed in sudden comprehension. “Do you think this is our well? The Virtuous Well?”

  “You mean Ffynnon Pen Rhys,” Gryff corrected automatically. “And yes, I think it might just be.”

  Maddie shook her head in wonder. Only a few days ago she’d thrown her hairpin, wishing to be saved from Sir Mostyn.

  She almost laughed aloud. Well, she’d certainly been granted that wish. So much had happened since then, she could scarcely comprehend it. A sudden thought struck her. “But the well was dry when I made a wish.”

  “Well, it clearly isn’t dry now. Just very low. Which is good for us or we’d be underwater. The important thing is, it’s our way out of here.”

  They both looked upward, assessing the circular hole. The circumference looked about as wide as Gryff’s shoulders.

  “It’s a shame nobody left a bucket dangling on a rope,” he sighed.

  “Do you think we can climb up it?”

  “I don’t see why not. If we can get up there. It’ll be like climbing a chimney. Sweeps do it all the time.”

  He slipped back into the water and waded until he stood directly beneath the hole. He tilted his head to look up. “It’s worth a try. There are plenty of handholds.”

  He stretched his arms up to their full extent, but the entrance of the shaft was still at least three feet higher. He jumped up a few times, trying to catch the inner rim to pull himself up, but it was tantalizingly just out of reach. Her spirits dropped.

  “Come here. I’ll hoist you up. You can reach it if you stand on my shoulders. But take your jacket off first. And the satchel. They’ll hinder your climbing.”

  Maddie belatedly realized she was still wearing her fitted jacket on her upper half. How ridiculous, when she wore no skirts or petticoats below. She lifted off the satchel, peeled the sopping garment down her arms, and left them in a sodden heap on the ledge.

  Her white cotton shirt had been rendered almost transparent by the water, and Gryff’s gaze immediately homed in on the areas where the wet material stuck to her skin. He shook his head as if trying to clear it, and Maddie sent him an amused smile.