Carisbrooke Abbey (24 page)

Her words had the desired effect. His eyes stopped following the contours of her cheek and lips.

‘Yes.’

 She gave a sigh of relief. Her choice of conversation was having the desired effect. It was breaking the intimate moment, and restoring a more neutral tone.

‘Has she escaped again?’

In the candlelight she saw him frown. ‘I’m not sure. When I returned to the abbey, Lund did not answer the door. I went into the drawing-room and found the secret passage was ajar. Fearing that Esmerelda had escaped and that she had decided to play in the secret chamber, I came in to search for her.’

‘But you did not find her?’

‘No.’

‘Then, if she is not here, I suggest we leave,’ said Hilary with a shiver.

‘You’re cold,’ he said.

He stretched out his hand and cupped her cheek. His touch was warm and gentle. It was also stimulating. How she longed to kiss the fingers that hovered near her mouth! But she knew she must not do it. To do so would reawaken feelings that were better left undisturbed.

‘It’s nothing. I don’t like the dark,’ she said, turning her head away.

‘Then we will go at once.’ He took her hand. ‘Now that you’re here, the door must be open again.’

‘Again?’ she queried, trying to take her mind from the wonderful feeling of his large fingers wrapped round her tiny hand.

‘It slammed shut behind me when I first ventured in,’ he explained. ‘I was just calling for Esmerelda when the daylight suddenly disappeared and there was a sickening thud. I was shut in.’

Hilary shuddered. ‘How dreadful. How did it happen?’

‘I’m not sure. Either a gust of wind must have blown it shut, or Esmerelda must have shut it deliberately. We will have to be careful when we leave the passage. She might be waiting for us outside.’

The thought was not a pleasant one. Esmerelda was unpredictable; at times charming, at times violent. To take her mind from the thought of what might be waiting for them outside the passage, Hilary said, ‘But why did you remain here? Why did you not use the lever to open the door?’

‘It’s broken,’ he said. ‘Esmerelda must have kicked it in her struggle when I brought her through here to escape from the Palmers.’

He led her back along the narrow passage. The rectangle of daylight from the open door began to grow larger as they approached it.

But just as they reached it, it slammed shut with a thud.

Hilary’s heart jumped into her mouth.

‘Hell’s teeth!’ cursed Marcus. ‘This is exactly what happened to me.’

Reminding herself that there was nothing to worry about, Hilary forced her pulse to calm and said, ‘We will just have to get out at the other end.’

Marcus came to a halt. ‘We can’t.’

Hilary stopped behind him.

In the narrowness of the passage, he turned to face her.

‘The door is blocked,’ he explained. ‘Mrs Lund had been cleaning the room. It was occupied by Esmerelda when we had the thunder storm, as you know. Esmerelda does not like storms, they frighten her, and in her fear she threw her food and drink over the walls. Some of it went behind the wardrobe, and Mrs Lund asked me to move it so that she could clean behind it. It is still blocking the secret door.’

‘And the door opens outwards?’ asked Hilary in a small voice.

‘It does.’

‘Then we are trapped.’

Her shoulders slumped.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said tenderly. ‘It won’t be for long. If Esmerelda has escaped, then Lund and Mrs Lund will be searching for her. As soon as they find her they will know what she has done, for she will brag about her cleverness. Then they will let us out.’

‘But that could take hours,’ said Hilary, her voice sinking.

In response to her despondent tone, his strong fingers stroked her palm. The feel of them was comforting and reassuring. It was also enlivening. Even here, in a dark passage festooned with cobwebs and thick with dust, his fingers set her quivering, driving out fear and hopelessness, dismissing everything but the need to be touched by him and to touch him in return.

‘The time will pass quickly,’ he said throatily. ‘There is so much I have to tell you.’ His eyes sought her own. ‘I never thought it would be possible for me to do this with any sense of honour, but now at last I can give in to my desires.’

His free arm encircled her and drew her close.

‘Hilary, you know I love you,’ he said.

His mouth hovered mere inches from her own.

She was torn between a need to give in to her innermost desires, and a feeling that she should pull away, but she found it impossible to resist. Besides, he had said that he could kiss her with honour, and although she did not know how that could be, she knew he would not have lied about such a thing.

And then the time for thought was gone. He took her candle stick from her and set it on a shelf behind them, putting his own beside it, then his mouth closed over her own.

The kiss sent shivers down her spine. She twined her arms around his neck, holding him close. The feel of his large body next to her own was intoxicating, and the sensation of his mouth moving over hers was exhilarating. His lips transported her to a different world, one of heat and passion, longing and desire. Her own parted instinctively, welcoming the intimate contact, and as she felt the touch of his tongue she was lost to all else.

As he deepened the kiss he held her closer and closer still. His hands slid downwards, pressing her more firmly against him so that there was no space between them, and she tightened her own embrace in response.

‘Hilary,’ he murmured, as his mouth left hers and he nuzzled her ear, her neck and her hair. ‘At last you can be mine.’

He pulled away from her, holding her face in his hands, and his eyes wandered over her, drinking her in .

‘Every part of you is dear to me,’ he said. ‘Your brow’ - he kissed it - ‘your nose’ - he kissed it - ‘your eyelids’ - he kissed them  - ‘your mouth.’ And once again, he was pulling her towards him, drowning her in a sea of wonderful sensations and leaving her breathless and weak.

‘This is not how I imagined it would be, when I could finally kiss you without threatening either your honour or your happiness,’ he said, as at last he let her go. ‘I did not think it would be in a dusty passage full of cobwebs, lit only by a few candles flickering in the darkness.’

Emerging from her dream-like state, Hilary straightened her bonnet, which had fallen off the back of her head. ‘Nor I,’ she whispered.

‘Ah. So you have imagined it?’ he asked with a growl of satisfaction.

She wished she could deny it, but she could not. Her unruly thoughts had kept reminding her of the times he had taken her in his arms and kissed her, and her dreams had been even worse. They had tormented her every night in her sleep. In them, Marcus had come to her. He had kissed her eyes, her throat and her lips, and had not stopped there. He had kissed and caressed every inch of her ....

‘You will make me blush,’ she said, feeling hot and embarrassed, and thanking Providence he could not read her thoughts.

‘I certainly hope so,’ he returned.

The glance that accompanied his words was so smouldering that she had the sudden wonderful feeling that his dreams had equalled hers.

He cupped the back of her head. His head tilted, and she knew he was going to kiss her again. She longed for him to do it, but having been overwhelmed by him once, she was determined not to be overwhelmed again. At least not until she knew what his enigmatic words had meant.

‘You said you could kiss me with honour,’ she reminded him, taking a small step back, which was all the confines of the passage would allow. ‘What has changed?’

‘Everything. Hilary, there is so much I have to tell you. I learnt a great deal when I went to Lyme, and all of it wonderful and unexpected. But I will not talk of it here. The passage is dank and confined. There is a small chamber leading off to one side of it, a little further on. It has a table and a few chairs, and whilst not comfortable, it is better than where we are.’

Hilary nodded.

He picked up his candelabra and handed her her own single candlestick. Then he led her back along the narrow passage. Turning to the left, he followed an even narrower tunnel until it gave on to a small room.

Hilary held her candle aloft as she entered it. The room was some eight feet square, and her dim light revealed four upright chairs, an armchair and a low table. All were covered in dust.

‘Esmerelda and I used to play here when we were children. It was one of our favourite places. We have had many a game in this very room. It was much cleaner then, of course. The abbey used to have a full complement of servants, before my fath— Lord Carisbrooke’s madness turned to violence and drove them away. The room was always swept and dusted along with the rest of the house.’

‘I can see why you liked to play here,’ said Hilary, looking round. Dim though the light was, it was enough to reach into the corners of the small chamber. ‘It’s a perfect den for children. It’s small and cosy and hidden away from the rest of the abbey.’

He set his candlestick down on the table then took out a large handkerchief and used it to dust one of the chairs.

Setting her candle on the table beside Marcus’s, Hilary seated herself in the chair he had cleaned for her.

‘And now,’ said Marcus, leaning against the table so that he was half sitting and half standing, ‘I can tell you everything.’

His voice roughened.

Hilary felt her heart begin to beat more quickly.

He took her hands.

‘Hilary, I have wonderful news. I never thought anything could resolve the difficulties that stood between us, but I was wrong. I have learnt the truth about my birth and it has set me free. When I went to Lyme, I visited my mother’s old nurse. She told me that I was not tainted by madness; that I was free to marry. Hilary, I am not Lord Carisbrooke’s son.’

She was perplexed. ‘What do you mean? Of course, you are Lord Carisbrooke’s son. That is why you inherited the title.’

‘No. I am not related to him in any way.’

Briefly, he told her what he had learnt in Lyme.

‘Then if you are not Lord Carisbrooke’s son ... ‘ she said slowly, hope dawning in her breast as she began to understand.

He waited patiently, whilst she took in the full implication of what he had said.

‘ ... then you have not inherited his madness.’

‘No.’

‘Marcus, this is wonderful news.’

‘It is. Because it allows me to do this.’ He took her hands in his. ‘And this.’ He kissed her. ‘And it allows me to ask you the question I have been burning to ask you ever since I learnt the truth. Hilary, will you marry me?’

She looked him full in the face, and there was a moment of profound connection between them.

‘Yes, Marcus, I will,’ she said softly.

He kissed her on the lips. Then he pulled away.

‘No more,’ he said. ‘Otherwise I will not be able to stop. The wedding will be at once - that is, unless you have any objection?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she reassured him. ‘None.’

He smiled. ‘I hoped you would not have. As soon as we escape from here and restore Esmerelda to Mrs Lund’s care I will set about acquiring a special licence, and we will be married without delay. It means you will have to wait for your wedding clothes —’

‘As to that,  I don’t need any wedding clothes,’ she interrupted.

‘Oh, yes you do. I want to see you in gowns that will bring out your full beauty, instead of those dreadful sacks you wear.’

He was teasing her, and she smiled. However, she was under no illusions about her personal charms.

‘I am no beauty,’ she said.

His voice softened. His eyes became liquid pools. ‘You are to me.’

Hilary melted. There was such a note of sincerity in his voice that she knew that what he said was true. She might be little, and mousy and plain, but to him she was beautiful. She gave a sigh of pure pleasure. It was more than she had ever hoped for; more than she had ever dared dream.

‘I will buy you a ruby silk —’

‘You will do nothing of the sort,’ she said, laughing. ‘I would feel like a stranger in such a dress. But I confess I would like a change from my usual clothes. Some nice neat muslin.’ She gave an embarrassed smile. ‘It is foolish of me, I know, but I have always had a fancy for primrose.’

He smiled. ‘Then you shall have it. A primrose muslin, a primrose satin, a primrose silk ....’

One of the candles sputtered and went out, breaking in on their happy thoughts and reminding them of the reality of their situation.

Hilary sobered.

‘I had not realized we had been in here so long,’ she said, as she saw how far down the other candles had burnt. ‘If they should go out..... ‘

She gave a shiver. Then frowned, as she remembered another time when she had been trapped. It had not been dark then. It had been daylight. But the two incidents bore similar hallmarks.

‘This reminds me of the time I was locked on the roof,’ she said. ‘Did you ever ask the Lunds about it?’

He nodded. ‘I did. But neither of them locked the door.’

Hilary thought. ‘Could it have been Esmerelda who locked me out?’ she asked, thinking it possible that Esmerelda had done so if she had been loose.

He shook his head. ‘No. Again, I asked the Lunds. She was safely in the cottage when it occurred.’

Hilary’s thoughts wandered down other channels. She had wondered at the time whether either of the Palmers could have locked her out on the roof. But even if they had done so, they could not be behind her present predicament as they were no longer at the abbey. And even if, by some chance, either one of them had visited the abbey that day, then although they might have had a reason for shutting her in, they could have had no reason for shutting Marcus in. No, it must be Esmerelda who had trapped them, as Marcus suspected.

Hilary gave a sigh. She was growing tired of being trapped.

She began to set her thoughts to work.

‘When we came in here,’ she said a few minutes later, ‘into this room, the passageway leading to it continued a little further. If I remember the plans rightly, the outside of the abbey must lie in that direction, and it cannot be far away. What if the passage leads to another door?’