Kneeling over her, he whispered. “I won’t hurt you, Nellie.”
Tenderly, he trailed his fingers downward, to her collarbone, to the ruffled edge of her nightgown. She was trembling as he eased the fabric over her shoulder, so that her breast was bared to him.
No woman had ever been more beautiful.
Breathing in the sweet smell of her skin, he pressed his cheek to her softness, then his lips, the nipple growing taut under the pressure of his tongue.
“Ethan.” Her voice was soft but her hands upon his shoulders were insistent, holding him as he lathed her pinkness, suckling the peak then letting it free, gazing upon the bud before returning for a second feasting.
She whimpered and parted her thighs, letting him lie between.
She was hot there. Even through his trousers he could feel it, and her flaring desire swamped his senses.
Once more, she murmured his name. Her hand found the small of his back and she looked into his eyes again, bending her knee slightly.
From the far side of the room came an excited bark.
All the while, that madcap dog of hers had been lying by the hearth, cocking its ears at the noises her mistress made. Now, it was sniffing along the wall, stopping to scratch at the panelling to the far side of the hearth.
“Stop that, Minnie.” Cornelia called breathlessly but the sausage on legs continued to scuffle, balancing on its hind legs to reach higher, pitter-pattering its paws on the wood.
“Hey, cut it out little pudding.” Ethan threw a cushion at the wall, making the dog yelp and jump back. There was a click and a creak from the panelling.
“What was that?” Abruptly, Cornelia sat up, clutching her gown to her breasts. “Minnie?”
Ethan rubbed at his eyes. It couldn’t be. Picking up the lantern from the side table, he held it high.
Though the corner of the room was in shadow, there was no mistaking what he was seeing. A portion of the wall had hinged outward.
With a gleeful bark, the terrier bounded forward, its tail wagging furiously as it retreated from view.
“Minnie!” With pounding heart, Cornelia pushed herself from the chaise. “Quickly, Ethan! Where is she?”
Cursing, he stood up, dashing to where the terrier had disappeared.
Righting her clothing, she tied the belt of her robe and crossed the room to peer into the space where Minnie had made her escape, with Ethan in pursuit. She could see nothing of either of them, but for the diminishing glow of the lantern Ethan had taken with him.
Many old houses had similar within the walls, for servants to move unseen, but this was far too narrow for the purpose.
A distant bark drifted back and she heard muffled cursing.
She hadn’t been paying attention to Minnie. She hadn’t been paying attention to anything at all. As soon as Ethan entered, she’d lost all her senses.
Clutching the edge of the frame, she leaned forward.
“Ethan?” The void consumed her voice, deadening it.
A minute passed. She called his name again, and Minnie’s. The lantern’s glow had long since faded.
Where were they?
If his lantern went out, what would he do? He’d never find Minnie without the light. Even if he did, she mightn’t come to him.
Who knew where the terrier might scrabble to, getting lost within the fabric of the house until there was no hope of retrieving her. She’d be disoriented and alone, and then thirsty and hungry. If the flooring was rotten, she might hurt her leg, and there would be no one to help her.
Cornelia suppressed a sob. She couldn’t lose Minnie.
And Ethan—was he alright?
She called a third time, without reply.
There was a draught through the opening, carrying a musty smell, and faint scratching noises. No doubt, there were vermin—not to mention spiders and cobwebs. She didn’t like to think what else.
She hated close, dark spaces, but what choice did she have?
Ethan had taken the oil lamp but a candlestick remained. Dipping a taper in the fire, she lit the wick and, wrapping a shawl about her shoulders, entered the passageway.
Chapter 15
There was no sound as she stepped into the darkness.
Cupping the candle flame against the draught, she inched forward, doing her best not to brush against anything.
“Ethan, are you there?”
Something squeaked nearby and she gave a shriek as the scurrying thing ran over her foot.
I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t!
The darkness was pressing on her, thick and heavy. There was no air but she had to calm herself. One breath in and another out. No matter that it smelt of damp and rotting things.
She kept her focus on the flame. She just needed to keep moving along, making sure the candle didn’t blow out. One pace and then another, until she caught up with Ethan. When she found him, everything would be better—and they’d find Minnie together. She had to believe it.
She’d taken no more than ten steps, however, when she heard a long, heartfelt wail and a series of thumps. Cornelia stopped still.
What was it? Not Ethan. He would never make noises like that.
What then?
A ghost?
Cornelia looked forward then back, scanning the inky dark around her. Even if something were here, she wouldn’t be able to see it. The flame’s illumination barely lit her own hand before her.
Something might be standing two strides away and she’d never know—not until she turned her back and…
She clamped her hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. She mustn’t think like that, or she’d be no use at all. There were no such things as ghosts—even in places as old as the Abbey.
It must be the pipes. The bath was situated not too far along the corridor. Perhaps they ran through here.
She made herself open her eyes but, as she did so, a muted moan emanated from beyond the wall in front of her.
Cornelia’s hand was shaking so hard she feared she’d drop the candle but, at least, whatever the thing was, it wasn’t here beside her, but on the other side.
For a moment, she was confused. Was she facing inwards or outwards? She could no longer remember. Her room had no corner window, despite being at the end of the corridor, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to survey the house properly from outside.
Was there another series of rooms she didn’t know about, or was she merely confused?
There was a creak and whispered voices, then a long sigh and more thumps.
Cornelia raised her candle, surveying the beams, then cupped her palm over the flame and lowered it, letting her sight adjust to the gloom.
The timber joists were close nailed, but there was a sliver of light between them.
Tentatively, she aligned her eye with the crack.
It took a moment for her to realize what she was seeing.
A woman, standing beside the bed, facing away. Not just standing but with her hands tied, high above her head, the sash looped over the upper canopy frame. The light was dim but Cornelia knew a pair of bare buttocks when she saw them. The woman was naked, and tied up—and someone was with her!
The man, with his back to her, was still wearing his dining suit and was brandishing something—a hairbrush perhaps. The next moment, he hit the woman full on the behind. She arched and shrieked, but rather than twisting away, moved her legs apart and bent forward a little.