Free Ambersley (Lords of London) by Amy Atwell Page B

Ashes, dust and cobwebs dotted the black soot that covered everything like a cracked skin. “This was the newest wing of the house. Much more timber than stone work here.” He led them into a large room where the startled scurry of rodent feet greeted them.
     
    “ This was the late Duke’s study.” Mr. Minton pulled back the heavy draperies masking the nearest window, allowing gray light to filter in through the airborne dust and reveal a rotted rug with large holes and burned edges. Two leather chairs were piled in the nearest corner, their hides scorched beyond repair. Mr. Minton crossed behind a large square desk to pull the drapes back from the second window.
     
    Derek surveyed the room with a critical eye. “Most of what’s here will need to be discarded.”
     
    “ You might consider keeping the desk. It suffered some damage but could be refinished. It’s been in the family for five generations.”
     
    Derek ran a hand along the heavy piece of wood. Generations of Vaughan men had used this desk. Real Vaughans.
     
    “ Mind if I let some fresh air into this tomb?” Harry crossed to the far window. A floorboard issued an eerie creak beneath his weight, and Harry, nimble as any deer, sprang forward only to have the boards collapse with a sharp crack. He clawed the air as he fell into a black void.
     
    Derek immediately rushed forward with his cousin’s name on his lips.
     
    Minton grabbed his shoulder. “Take care, Your Grace. More of the floor might give way.”
     
    Derek went down on hands and knees, crawling toward the black cavern. “Harry! Harry!” he shouted into the hole.
     
    “ I’m here. You haven’t got rid of me, yet.” Harry’s familiar voice sounded from below.
     
    Derek’s initial wave of fear receded. “Here—take my hand,” he instructed, leaning further into the hole.
     
    “ Your Grace!” Minton grabbed his ankles. “What if you fall?”
     
    But Derek strained to hear Harry. “Derek, I can’t see a thing, and I don’t think I can stand. I’ve injured my knee.”
     
    “ Is it broken? Are you bleeding?” asked Derek.
     
    A laugh drifted up. “I don’t know. I can’t see a bloody thing.”
     
    Derek looked at Minton. “What kind of a room is he in? If I jump down there, is there another way out?”
     
    Minton looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry to say, I don’t know, my lord. I never had cause to tour the underground rooms. However, I would not advise jumping down that hole in any case.”
     
    “ The drop isn’t all that dangerous if you’re expecting to do it.”
     
    “ Not for you, but you could easily injure Mr. Coatsworth by landing on him.” Minton retrieved a heavy sash cord from the nearby drapes. “Here, see if this will help.”
     
    Derek smiled. “Well done.” He lowered one end over the edge of the precipice. “Harry, we’ve got a rope. Can you reach it?”
     
    “ Wait.” Within the hole, something fell with a clatter and Harry cursed under his breath. “Yes, I’ve got it now.”
     
    It took a little patience—though Harry muttered a few more colorful curses—but with Derek and Minton working together, they managed to pull him up until Derek could reach Harry’s coat and pull him over the edge of the broken boards.
     
    Silent for now, Harry lay on the floor, pain etched on his face.
     
    Derek kneeled over his cousin, panting from the exertion of lifting him out. “I believe you’ve put on some weight.”
     
    His cousin smiled gamely at the quip. “It’s that damn lack of exercise on board the ship,” he said through partially clenched teeth.
     
    “ Which I’ve more than compensated for. Maybe you should pull me from a hole.”
     
    “ Yes, I’ll do that—as soon as you are obliging enough to fall through one.”
     
    Derek’s eyes widened to see blood seeping through the cloth of Harry’s breeches. “Harry, lie still. You may have hurt yourself more than you think.”
     
    Harry looked down at his leg and then