Page 37 of Entwined By Error (Madcaps of Mayfair #1)

By the following afternoon, the unwanted happenstance of two more visitors searching for the viscount had convinced Myra to retrieve the satchel.

Both visitors waited to make an appearance after Daniel had left and took the same approach Lord Cartwell had done the day before, assuming she would give them Lord Southwood’s location—whether it was because they expected that she still held feelings for him or that she would give away his location out of spite, she didn’t know.

Once they were gone, she confirmed the location of the satchel with Lord Southwood, then she set out for the cave.

The wind teased her bonnet ribbons and the hem of her cloak as she slowly made her way down the winding cliff path, the same path she and Daniel had traversed only a few days before on their walk to the shoreline.

A sense of anticipation swirled about in her stomach, leaving her a bit ill as she considered her task.

She was to find the satchel, return it to the viscount, and watch as he rode away from Blackbriar.

With any luck, she would never have to entertain him or his dubious gambling associates again.

Looking out at the sea, she noticed the tide was low, pulling back from the shoreline.

She had but a few hours to retrieve the item and climb back up the cliff path before the waves would splash against the cave entrance.

She only hoped the satchel hadn’t been pulled out to sea; if it had, she would never find it, and the viscount might think he had leave to become a permanent house guest.

She followed Lord Southwood’s instructions, finding the entrance to the cave not only hidden behind three large rocks, but covered in a curtain of ivy.

Bending down, she struck a match against the stones, lit the lantern she’d carried from the house, and straightened, holding it out in front of her to ensure she was well and truly alone.

Stepping past the tidepools and a flock of gulls, she stood at the threshold, willing herself to step into the darkened cave.

Before entering, she took one last look over her shoulder, the nervous fluttering in her stomach convincing her that she was on a fool’s errand.

Ensuring no one had followed her, she stepped over the threshold, leaving the wind, the waves, and the squawking of the gulls behind her to take in the musty, dank smell of wet rocks and the stale salty sea.

Each step into the cave caused her heart to pound.

She wanted to run, leave the cave and the satchel alone, returning to the safety of Blackbriar Hall.

Yet, she was only feet away from finding the one thing that would free her of the viscount’s presence.

Lord Southwood had promised it was situated on a rock ledge within a fifteen-minute walk into the cave.

She counted each second, ticking them off in her head. One minute turned into five, then ten, and when she had reached what she thought was a fifteen-minute walk, she stopped in her tracks to look up at the rock wall, only to find it was smooth, without any ledges.

Walking slowly through the cave, she kept her eyes focused on the walls in search of the supposed ledge holding her quarry.

She turned back, retracing her steps for a time before she was convinced she hadn’t passed by the satchel or the ledge.

Walking deeper into the cave, Myra held the lamp out as she passed through a tight walkway.

Lord Southwood hadn’t mentioned the walkway.

She would have to speak to him about his poor directions when she returned to Blackbriar.

As Myra stepped from the narrow passage into the wide cavern, her gaze locked instantly on the satchel perched high on a rock shelf.

Her pulse quickened and her breath caught as excitement filled her chest. She’d found it.

It was above her, far out of reach for both her and the water that would rush into the cave at high tide.

Without hesitation, she dashed forward, and set the lantern on a nearby stone, its light casting frantic shadows across the walls as she scanned for the rock handholds Lord Southwood had described.

The rocks jutted from the wall like a ladder, waiting for her to take hold and lift herself up from the ground.

She stepped toward them, every second ticking loudly in her mind as she reminded herself that there was only so much time before the tide came in for the night.

As she neared the wall, she placed a foot where the ground should have been—but found it had disappeared beneath her.

A scream tore from her throat as the earth swallowed her whole. She dropped like a stone, her cry echoing off the cavern walls. Pain shot up her leg as her ankle twisted on impact, the breath knocked clean from her lungs as she hit the damp, muddy bottom.

As she lay there, her whimpers were the only sound in the dark hole.

She could see the flickering light above from the lamp she’d brought with her.

It would go out soon enough, and then all she would have to keep her company would be the darkness and a sharp throb of pain pulsing through her ankle—that was, until the tide came in and filled the hole where she was now trapped.

Determined not to end her life in such an unromantic manner, Myra attempted to stand; she would claw her way out of the hole. But her ankle gave out, and tiny pinpricks of light danced in front of her eyes before darkness consumed her.