Page 96 of Exile's Return

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair. ‘So if he had his suspicions before you have just confirmed them. Well done, Lovell. How did you get here?’

‘Foot. No time to saddle a horse. The roads and woods are crawling with Ashby’s men and I’ve no doubt they will be here at first light.’

Jonathan jerked his head in the direction of the pallet.

‘Your brother’s hurt.’

‘Is that Daniel?’ Kit’s voice sounded weak.

Daniel hunched down beside the bed.

‘Are you badly hurt?’

Kit shrugged, pushing himself upright with his uninjured arm. ‘Nothing serious. Just feel a bit lightheaded.’

Daniel looked around the cottage. ‘What a damnable mess. We’re never going to get away and what are we going to do about Agnes? We can’t leave her to Ashby’s mercy. He has none.’

Jonathan looked at Kit. ‘Is he always this impatient?’

Kit nodded. ‘Always. Sit down, Dan. We’re in a bind. I’m hurt…’

‘…and we’ve no horses,’ Jonathan put in. ‘Only way out of here is going to be on foot.’

Jonathan held up a hand. ‘First, we have to make sure Ashby doesn’t find us. Peg was telling me she has a hiding place.’

Peg gestured at the chest that stood against the wall. ‘Under there is a cellar. It’ll hold you safe and snug.’

Jonathan moved the chest aside, revealing a flagstone with a ring in it. He hauled it up and swore softly.

‘It’s going to be a tight fit.’

The dog raised its head from its paws and growled. The men froze and Daniel could just make out the thud of hoof beats. Horses being ridden hard in the lane.

‘He’s coming,’ Daniel said.

‘I’ll help Mistress Truscott with the chest. Get down there, now,’ Kit said. ‘Take my sword.’

With his good hand, Kit tossed the weapon to Daniel.

At the entrance to the cellar, Daniel hesitated. Memories of the pit into which Outhwaite had consigned him came flooding back. Nausea rose in his throat and he backed away.

‘Are you all right?’ Jonathan asked.

But Daniel was lost in the recollection of that dark, noisome hole that had so nearly claimed his life. A band tightened around his chest.

‘I can’t,’ he said.

Jonathan touched his arm. ‘You must.’

‘You don’t understand —’

Jonathan’s clear gaze met his in perfect understanding. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘Kit told me about your experience in Barbados. You go first. I’ll follow.’ The shove he gave Daniel was far from gentle, and enough to shake him from his reverie. He caught himself before he pitched into the cellar. Although descending the rickety ladder into the small space made his skin crawl with memories of rats and insects. He sat down heavily on the cold earthen floor, drawing up his knees.

Above him, his brother said. ‘No time. You go, Thornton.’

‘But —’

‘Don’t argue. They’re here.’