Page 119 of Rogue of My Heart

“It does appear to be stuck,” Lord Garvagh said. “Let me try?—”

Christian and Marie both braced themselves hard against the door as Lord Garvagh attempted to throw his own weight into it. The blow Lord Garvagh delivered to the door was bruising. Marie hoped and prayed that she and Christian together would be strong enough to keep it shut.

“Stand back a moment,” Marie called through to their prisoners. “Let me see if I can just get this to….” She let her words fade and gestured for Christian to fetch the wedges she’d asked him to bring to keep the door stuck tight.

Thankfully, Christian had grasped what she intended for the prank. He darted to the side and took four sturdy wedges that he’d evidently placed around the corner of the building earlier. As he fetched them, Marie noticed his trousers were soaked from the knees down.

“If I could just—” Marie pretended to be studying the door as Christian pounded the first wedge into place at the bottom of the door. “It just needs a little—” He followed by securing two more wedges between the side of the door and its frame. “Perhaps a bit of—” Finally, he finished by knocking the last wedge into place at the top of the door. “There,” Marie said. “Try now.”

She and Christian stood back, holding their breaths. Christian reached for Marie’s hand, grasping it tightly. A moment later, a hard thump sounded from the other side of the door as Lord Garvagh threw his weight into it. He tried a second time, then a third. The door didn’t budge.

“Whatever you’ve done seems to have made it worse, Lady Marie,” Lord Garvagh’s grumbling voice said.

“Oh, dear,” Marie said with a smile as broad as the ocean.

“Whatever are we going to do?” Lady Aoife asked.

“Lady Marie, you must find Lord Kilrea at once,” Lord Garvagh commanded. “He was here minutes ago. He climbed down through the spring door with the intent of showing me a feature he has plans to install, but he seems to have disappeared.”

“How very odd,” Marie said, sending Christian an impish grin.

Surprisingly, Christian met her wicked look with a smile of his own. It was weaker than what she felt it could be, but after days in which the only expression she’d seen on Christian’s face was misery—or transportation, as she’d seen briefly the night before—the expression and the light it brought to him were priceless.

“Hurry,” Lord Garvagh charged her. “Lady Aoife is greatly distressed.”

“And we cannot have that,” Marie said under her breath, sending a victorious look to Christian. “I’ll run as fast as I can,” she called into the springhouse. “In the meantime, are you certain you’ll be all right completely alone, without a soul nearby to hear you, unchaperoned?”

Christian swatted at her arm, as though he thought she was laying it on too thick.

“We’ll manage,” Lord Garvagh said. There was an intimacy to his tone that had Marie’s pulse racing in victory.

“All right. I’m going now,” Marie called out.

Still holding Christian’s hand, she moved away from the door. Rather than leaving to head up to the manor house, she and Christian walked around the corner to the side of the building where the spring ran down from the hill. The spring sank underground several yards away from the building, which meant a flat patch of grass stretched along that side. It was the perfect place for Marie and Christian to stand with their backs pressed against the stone wall, listening to whatever conversation would happen inside through the thin and patchy roof.

It took a few seconds in which all they could hear was movement from inside the building before Lady Aoife sighed and said, “How long are we going to be trapped here?”

“It shouldn’t be long,” Lord Garvagh told her. “Lord Kilrea only just left, moments before you arrived.”

“I’m surprised the man isn’t more concerned about where you’ve gone,” Marie whispered to Christian.

“I believe he has other concerns at the moment,” Christian whispered back.

“Aoife, there’s no need to look so distressed,” Lord Garvagh went on in a tender voice. “We won’t be trapped here for long. Even if the door is stuck, we could still climb out through the spring door below, or through the roof.” There was a pause in which Marie could just make out the sound of Lord Garvagh walking across the creaking floorboards inside the building. “I’d no idea the roof was in such dire need of repair.”

“At least it lets the light in,” Lady Aoife said in a tremulous voice.

More creaking followed, then Lord Garvagh said, “I mean it, Aoife. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

“But don’t you understand, Ned, this is a sign.” Judging by the slightly muffled sound of Lady Aoife’s words, Marie was convinced Lord Garvagh had embraced her. She sent a triumphant look to Christian, whose entire countenance was filling with mirth as the scene played out. “This is a punishment.”

“A punishment for what, love?” Lord Garvagh asked in the most tender voice Marie had ever heard from the man.

“For loving where we shouldn’t,” Lady Aoife went on. “For disobeying my brother and wishing things were other than they are.”

“Your loyalty to your brother is admirable, sweetling,” Lord Garvagh said, “but as I’ve told you so many times before, it is misplaced. Benedict was wrong to betroth you to a man you do not love when a man who does love you is right here.”

“Oh, Ned.”