A Heart in Flight (13 page)

Phoebe led the way around the bend into the cave’s dark recesses. “We were exploring,” she said, reviewing the story they meant to tell. “First we stopped here, then there.”

Aurelia tried to clear her head of the fog of sleep. The change from warm sunshine to cool dimness set her to shivering, but her thoughts were still hazy.

Finally, she roused herself to ask, “Must we go so far?”

“I suppose not,” Phoebe said. “But our plan was to say that I turned my ankle and you could not bring me out.”

“Yes.” Aurelia tried to stop shivering. “I know The Plan. But Phoebe, are you sure ...? It’s extremely damp in here. I shouldn’t want you to take sick.”

Phoebe chuckled. “I shall not take sick, I assure you. And once I cast myself into Harold’s arms ...”

Aurelia turned. “Then I suppose I had better start back.” The prospect of being in the sunshine again was comforting.

Phoebe shivered. “I ... I’ll come with you. I can say I limped that far.”

They hurried back around the bend to the entrance. “Oh no!” Aurelia stopped, her bare toes curling against the cold rock. Where the entrance should be there was only water.

“It can’t be!” Phoebe’s wail echoed eerily through the cave. “The tide’s already come in.”

A space of daylight showed above the water, but only a space. And it was getting even smaller. Aurelia tried to remember how far above their heads the rocks had been when they came in. But she could not.

“Can you swim?” she asked.

Phoebe shook her head. “Of course not. Can you?”

Aurelia sighed. “No.”

“What will we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“But ... but they don’t know where we are.”

“We don’t have to be rescued, you know. We’ll just wait till morning and walk out.”

“Au-re-li-a!”

“Phoebe, dear. Theatrics are of no use now. There’s only you and I. So we must make the best of it.”

“The best! I’m cold. I’m wet. I don’t want to be here.”

Aurelia took a deep breath. She must not allow Phoebe to panic. She took her friend firmly by the shoulders. “Phoebe, listen. We can handle this. If we just keep our heads.”

She stared into the other’s frightened eyes until Phoebe nodded. “Yes, yes. Tell me what to do.”

Aurelia looked around, assessing the situation. They were not in mortal danger—a flaming balloon, now that was danger. But they probably were in for a most uncomfortable night.

“First, we shall find a warm dry place.”

“In here?”

“Up there on the ledge. We’ll sit together.” Phoebe followed her and obediently settled beside her. “Now, we’ll tuck our feet under our gowns.”

“Mine’s wet.”

“I know. Mine, too. But they will dry.”

Phoebe shivered. “It’s such a long time till morning.”

“I know. But it will pass. And we have each other. We’ll tell stories. We’ll be fine.”

They were not fine. As the daylight faded, the cave grew darker and colder. The drip of distant water took on ominous overtones, and the lapping of waves against the rocks below them turned sinister.

Phoebe shivered against her. “I wish I had my India shawl. And I wish it were not so dark. And so co - old.”

“I know, dear. I wish the same.”

“Aurelia, talk to me. Tell me about ballooning. In the sun. Against the bright blue sky.”

Phoebe sounded perilously close to tears, and Aurelia set her mind to making her friend feel better. But far too soon her supply of stories was exhausted.

Darkness had come down in earnest. The thin sliver of light at the top of the entrance disappeared. The darkness surrounded them, a palpable heaviness.

“Aurelia?”

“Yes?”

“Do you suppose there’s any truth in them?”

“In what?”

“In the books we’ve been reading.”

“Well, I suppose there could be.”

“You mean … p-p-parts of dead men could be made to live?”

Aurelia swallowed a laugh. Trust Phoebe to think of Mrs. Shelley’s book at a time like this. “Of course not, you goose. I thought you were talking about Lady Incognita’s work.”

“Oh.” There was a long silence. Then, “What about ghosts?”

“What about them?” Aurelia kept her voice firm. Phoebe was in no condition to appreciate her friend’s laughter.

“Do you think ... they’re ... real?”

She saw where Phoebe’s mind was headed. And she didn’t like it. “I’m not positive, of course. But I imagine most stories are just that—stories people have thought up to amuse themselves. Or frighten their friends.”

“But the pirates’ story is true!”

Aurelia reached for patience and found it in short supply. She, too, was cold, hungry, and tired. To say nothing of wet. The last thing she needed was to be thinking of ghosts and dead pirates.

But Phoebe was her friend, so she scraped together a little more patience and said in a quiet tone, “Think now. The story has been around for many years. Ranfield said so.”

Saying his name filled-her with yearning. If only he would come ... Not because she was frightened, but because she longed to see him. And she was beginning to worry about Phoebe. “What did you tell your mama before we left?”

“Only that we were going for a walk. Why?”

“I just wondered.” If they had mentioned their destination, there might have been some possibility of rescue. But, since no one knew where they had gone, that seemed highly unlikely.

“Do you think ... they might find us?”

Aurelia was torn between telling her friend the truth and keeping her spirits up. She decided for truth, uncomfortable as it was. “I don’t really think so, dear. But we shall be fine. Morning will come. The tide will go out. And we will laugh over this.”

In the darkness Phoebe’s sigh sounded immense. “I don’t think I shall ever laugh again.”

“Nonsense.” Aurelia forced her tone to briskness. Phoebe’s tendency to the dramatic could become contagious, and she had no intention of spending an entire night shivering in unnecessary terror.

“I know,” she said. “Why don’t you sleep?”

“Sleep! Oh, I should like to. But I am far too cold.”

“Come,” said Aurelia. “Lean against me and try. It will make morning come quicker.”

“Anything for that,” sighed Phoebe.

With some twisting and turning, they got her curled against Aurelia’s side.

“Now,” Aurelia instructed, “close your eyes and relax.”

“I’m trying.”

Aurelia willed herself to breathe slowly and calmly. Gradually the rhythm of Phoebe’s breathing slowed to match. And eventually Aurelia knew that her friend slept.

Huddled there, her arm around Phoebe, Aurelia had to struggle to keep her eyes open. She was frightfully tired herself, but she should stay awake. Though for what reason, she could not say. They were not likely to fall off the ledge, and, in spite of Phoebe’s fears, there was nothing in the cave that might harm them. Slowly Aurelia’s eyes closed.

The dream was patently a dream. She kept telling herself so while the cave grew lighter and lighter. Moonbeams gilded the surface of the dark water, and spirits, airy and ephemeral, fluttered from ripple to ripple, their laughter like the tinkling of tiny bells. She was about to wake Phoebe to see this wonder, when, from the surface of the shimmering sea, shot a giant hand.

“No!” The cry was torn from her throat. Her eyes flew open.

The cave was no longer dark. The moon had found a crack in the rocks above, and the cave’s interior shimmered in half-light.

Phoebe stirred. “What is it?” she mumbled.

Aurelia sighed. “I had a nightmare. I saw ...”

Her words turned into a shriek. Right before her horrified gaze, rising up out of the dark water, came a human hand!

It was followed closely by the rest of Ranfield’s body. He pulled himself up and stood, towering over them. Water ran down his bared chest, dripping off his inexpressibles, and fell past his bare feet to the floor of the ledge.

Aurelia stared. Was this an apparition or reality? She had never before seen a man in such a state of undress. It so unsettled her mind that her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth.

“So,” Ranfield said, and his voice rang like doom in the closed confines of the cave. “You
are
here.”

She managed to make her tongue work a little. “Y ... yes.”

“Are you injured?”

“I ... no.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

Phoebe made a strange noise. “We fell asleep.”

Ranfield stared. “In here?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Oh no, in the sunshine outside. Then we came in to explore. And ... and ...”

Aurelia finished the sentence. “And the tide trapped us.” She didn’t like that glowering look on his face.

“You have frightened us all half to death.”

“Harold!” Phoebe cried. “Where is Harold?”

“He’s waiting outside. In the boat.” The Earl smiled darkly, and Aurelia shivered from quite another cause than the cold. “It seems he cannot swim.”

“Oh,” whispered Phoebe.

Aurelia couldn’t help it. The laughter came from deep within her. It rolled out, half choking her. Even if The Plan had gone right in the beginning, it would still have not succeeded. The boat could not get in. Harold could not swim.

The laughter came and came. She tried to stop it. She wanted to stop it. But she was powerless.

Ranfield jerked her to her feet. She was soaking wet. Under his hands her flesh was icy. “It’s not funny.” He’d been scared out of his wits, and now the chit was laughing. He’d half a mind to ... Hysterical. Her laughter was hysterical. “Aurelia, stop. You’re all right.”

But still she kept on laughing. “Aurelia, stop it.”

“You must slap her face,” Phoebe advised. “That will ...”

He glared at her. “One more stupidity like that and I’ll never buy you another romance of terror.” She subsided with a little whimper.

Now he was really doing it up brown. Threatening defenseless women. The woman he was holding continued to laugh. “Aurelia,” he begged. “Please, stop.”

Finally, in desperation he pulled her close to him. She was already nearly as wet as he. And maybe the heat of his body or the comfort of his arms ... He hoped they were a comfort to her.

Gradually, her laughter slowed and stopped. But he was in no hurry to push her away. Standing there, with her body against his, he could imagine ...

“I ... I am recovered now.” Her voice was muted. He could feel her lips against his bare chest, surprisingly warm lips.

“Good.” The gentle tone of his voice surprised even him. “Because now we must get you out of here.”

“Get us out?”

“Yes. I’ve brought a rope.” He untied it from around his waist. “I mean to tie it to you and then to me. I shall swim out and pull you.”

“Under the water?” Phoebe squealed.

He gave her his darkest frown. “Unless you wish to wait here till morning and the tide goes down.”

“No, no.”

“Fine. Then I shall proceed.”

He reached for Aurelia, but she backed away. “No, take Phoebe first.”

He snorted. Stubborn to the end. Well, the thing to do was get them out. And then there were going to be some explanations. He didn’t for a minute believe that Banbury tale of theirs.

“Wait,” said Phoebe. “Isn’t the rope long enough to pass around you? In the middle. Then you could tie one of us to either end. And take us both together.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. He didn’t like leaving either of them in the cave. And Harold waited outside. In a boat with blankets.

“Fine. Come here then.”

Aurelia stood quietly while he knotted the rope around her waist. The touch of his warm hands made her shiver in quite another way than did the cold. She was over that silly laughter, and she could have waited by herself. But she was inordinately glad that it wouldn’t be necessary.

He was so strong and so brave. And this was very like one of Lady Incognita’s stories.

“You will have to hold your breath,” he told them. “But not till we go underwater. First, we’ll wade to the entrance.”

Phoebe squealed as she hit the cool water. Then his warm hands closed around Aurelia’s waist, and he lifted her down. She longed to put her arms around his neck, but of course she didn’t. Instead she made herself concentrate on keeping her footing in the sand and rocks beneath her bare feet.

“Now,” he said, offering them both a hand. “Let’s go.”

Aurelia had never been in water higher than her ankles. Now, as it rose to her knees, to her waist, to her breast, she found she was not frightened.
He
was there. And she trusted him.

“Now,” he said. “We’re going through here. Take a deep breath and hold it till we reach the other side. Try to kick your feet. That will help me.”

Just before the water covered her head, Aurelia heard Phoebe gasp. Then she was being pulled along. She kicked her feet and thought of being in his arms.

And then, blessedly, she felt herself going up. Her head broke the surface of the water. And there was Harold, grinning from ear to ear and stretching out his hands to Phoebe.

With much pushing and shoving, the Earl hoisted each of them over the side. With Harold’s help, he pulled himself in. Soon the rope was untied, and they were being wrapped in blankets.

Aurelia sighed. A delicious warmth was beginning to steal over her. She looked up. The Earl was still bare chested. Little droplets of water glistened on his skin. She struggled to sit up and was rewarded with a scowl. Still, she persisted. “Ranfield, you must have a blanket.”

“Nonsense. I’m not cold. Now lie quiet.”

Obediently she lay back. If she could just go to sleep. But he was glowering so.

“Harold,” said Phoebe from the mound of blankets beside her. “How did you know where to find us?”

“Your mama said you went for a walk,” Harold replied. “And Ranny remembered your fascination with the cave. And, since we couldn’t find you anywhere else, we came. And here you were.” He sounded mightily pleased with himself.

And Phoebe, sounding pleased, too, repeated, “Yes, here we were.”

The Earl snorted. “Two of the most empty-headed chits it’s ever been my misfortune to know.”

Aurelia sighed again. He was being most unfair. This time it really wasn’t her fault. But of course she couldn’t tell him that. For Phoebe’s sake, she had to keep up the fiction they’d concocted.