Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,67

she croaked.

There was a soft laugh and then silence. Somehow she knew she was alone. And she could not hold on. Slowly, her weight was dragging her down. Where was the ladder? She could feel nothing but the smooth sides of the shaft. There. Her knee hit something jutting out from the wall. Her arms trembled with the effort of holding her weight. They weakened. Then gave out. Her fingernails scrabbled to hold on. She was slipping. Falling.

Only to stop with a jerk. She was caught. By her elbow. Not her elbow, the bonnet strings hooked over her arm. She was dangling from her bonnet. She grabbed on to the strings with her other hand.

Gasping for breath, sobs forced their way up into her throat. No. Don’t panic. Think. Those ribbons were not going to hold her for very long. Carefully she turned her head, letting the light from her candle show her what her feet had missed. The ladder. Just off to her right. The ropes looked frayed and rotten. Not strong at all, but it was her only chance.

Carefully she inched one foot over to the closest rung. She got her foot into it. Then her other foot. She had to let go of the ribbons, her only lifeline, and reach for the ladder.

What if it wouldn’t hold her weight?

Don’t be afraid, a soft female voice said in her head. Do it.

It was the same voice she had heard in her dream.

She let go of the ribbons and grabbed for the rope with her right hand. Got it. Shifted her weight on to the ladder, then let go of the ribbons and grabbed on with her left hand. With a whisper, the strings, lightened of their burden, slid off the spike. Her bonnet fluttered into the darkness below.

The ladder gave an ominous creak.

She gasped and clung on for dear life, frozen in place.

Do not panic. Climb. Slowly. Three rungs. That was all she needed to climb. Gritting her teeth, swallowing her sobbing breaths, she made the painful ascent.

And then her head was above the lip of the shaft.

Oh, God, what if the person who had pushed her was still there? There was nothing she could do. She had to get up and out. She forced herself up the next rung and then threw her body over the edge. The next moment she was rolling away from that dreadful hole and lying gasping on the floor of the tunnel. Rocks were digging in her stomach. Her hands were burning. But she was alive. She dragged herself to the tunnel wall and sat leaning against it, gasping for breath.

And then she realised the way back was on the other side of that horrible hole. She gazed at the ledge and her body shook. She could not cross. She could not.

Slowly her pulse returned to normal and her breathing eased. She felt the chill of sweat cooling on her face and down the centre of her back. She could not stay here. She had to do something. Call for help? But she kept hearing that voice in her ear. The triumph. You little fool. That deep, dark whisper. It could have been anyone. Her heart clenched.

He wouldn’t.

But he had. Mary, stop being such a trusting idiot. There was no other explanation. She hadn’t agreed to marry him, hadn’t fallen for his seduction, so he’d decided to take his drastic action.

She’d walked right into his trap. No wonder he had seemed so willing to bring her along to the mine, when previously he had seemed opposed to the idea. She should have known a man like him wouldn’t really want her, a spinsterish schoolmistress. It had been all a ruse to get his own way.

And for some stupid reason, there was a terrible ache in her chest. It felt as if a hole had opened up and she wanted to cry.

The candle spluttered, then died.

Her misery was complete. Now she was alone and in the dark, with a murderer lurking somewhere about. She leaned back against the rough wall and closed her eyes, holding back the tears that wanted to run down her face. Why, oh, why had she given in to her longings for a home, a husband of her own, given in to the hope that somewhere in the world there might be a smidgeon of love just for her?

She swiped at her face with the heel of her hand. She’d shed enough tears over what she could not have.