Free Lady Emma's Campaign by Jennifer Moore Page A

very idea of facing the lieutenant again made her chest feel tight. She ran her hand along the damp stone wall and stopped when she reached an outcropping that she thought must be a doorframe. Moving her fingers a bit farther, she touched a wooden board.
    What if it was the wrong door? She had no idea what sort of things were hidden in the dungeon. And though she assumed it held only prisoners of war, the thought that she might accidentally release a Turk or Ashanti warrior or, even worse, a savage American into the dark hall with them terrified her.
    Emma debated whether or not to try to open the door. She gripped Serena’s hand tightly for courage and ran her fingers over the rough wood, searching for the handle. She took a steadying breath and pressed her ear against the boards.

Chapter 7
    Sidney paced the edges of his dark cell. He had checked every stone and searched the corners for something, anything he could use to escape. He knew his endeavor was fruitless, having done it hundreds of times before, but he had to busy himself with something. He had thought there was no way his situation could have become any worse. His own incarceration and torture was one thing, but he didn’t know what he would do if something were to happen to Emma.
    His breath hitched as he remembered Emma’s expression when the warden struck her. He felt an overwhelming need to protect her. It must be a brotherly feeling, he reasoned. William had spoken rarely about his father, but from the few things he had said, Sidney knew that the old earl had been cruel and abusive to his wife and children. Because of that, Sidney had been careful never to raise his voice around Emma or do anything that might cause her to feel threatened.
    How would he ever face William if anything should happen to her? If only Emma hadn’t thought that a French prison in the middle of a battle zone operated with the same rules of politeness as a London drawing room.
    Again he mentally kicked himself for picking up that blasted coin. And what kind of pitiful officer allows himself to be captured? Balling his hands into fists, he pounded on the door and finally rested his forehead against the thick wood. Only then did he register the pain from where his hands had made contact.
    A soft tapping sounded upon the door. He was either imagining it, or the warden had returned to taunt him. He had resolved to ignore it, though it would do no good, when he thought he heard his name spoken through the heavy planks.
    Emma . A quiver of dread moved through him and settled heavily in his gut. Had the warden brought her down already to force information from him? Information that he could not provide. He gritted his teeth. He had no weapon, but he would not allow Emma to come to harm.
    “Sidney? Are you in there?” Even muffled by the thick door, he heard the fear in her voice and hastened to try and dispel it.
    “I am here, Emma. It will be all right.”
    A key turned in the lock, and Sidney tensed his muscles, preparing to spring at the warden.
    The door squeaked open slowly, but there was no lantern light. What was Lieutenant Trenchard playing at? He heard footsteps and the rustle of skirts.
    Sidney’s senses were heightened almost to the point of pain. He strained to locate the warden in the pitch darkness. “Emma. Do not be afraid,” he said as steadily as he was able.
    “Where are you?” she said.
    Sidney reached toward the sound of her voice. “I am here.”
    “We must hurry.” Emma’s voice drew nearer to him.
    Sidney found her in the darkness and pulled her behind him, stepping between her and the door.
    “We could not light the lantern,” Emma said. “Here is Lieutenant Trenchard’s coat. There is a battle happening outside.” Sidney felt something soft pressed against his arm, and when he took it, his fingers brushed Emma’s gloved hand. He clasped her fingers and noticed that she was trembling.
    Sidney’s mind began to churn as he attempted to understand