Free If Love Dares Enough by Anna Markland Page B

they’d made the night before.
    Peering into the gloom, Hugh observed, “It doesn’t go far before it turns.” His voice echoed off the rock.
    Antoine put a forefinger to his lips. “We should go silently, so our voices won’t echo into the house. It will probably twist and turn many times to compensate for the height of the cliff. What a feat to carve this into the rock, even with the natural fissure.”
    Hugh nodded and they set off up the slope. The passageway did indeed wend this way and that, sometimes barely wide enough to pass. Here and there, two or three rough steps had been hewn into the rock. The walls were wet and the going underfoot slimy. The air, undisturbed for many years, reeked of stale seawater and decay. Though they climbed mostly uphill, the incline wasn’t so steep that coming down the other way would be impossible—slippery, and in places treacherous, but possible.
    As they drew nearer to the manor, the odours changed to normal household ones, and abruptly they found themselves at the end of the tunnel. Hugh ran his fingers over the wall, trying to find a doorway or portal of some kind while Antoine held the torches. Suddenly they heard scratching and whining and then, “ Woof. ”
    “ Merde! ” Antoine whispered. “That dog Boden loves you so much, he’ll give us away. We must go.”
    Hastily they retraced their steps, slipping and sliding their way down the narrow passageway. By the time they reached the cave they were as exhilarated as two small boys who have just perpetrated a successful prank.
    “I think I’ll have bruises on my bruises after that,” Hugh laughed.
    “Reminds me of the time we raided the apple orchards, just after the harvest. Did you ever see serfs so angry?” Antoine cracked.
    “Never mind serfs, I thought Papa was actually going to whip us. It was only thanks to Ram’s quick talking that we escaped punishment.”
    They extinguished the torches and left them in the passageway, but took the tinderbox with them. The tide had carried the rowboat into the mouth of the cave, forcing them to take off their boots and wade. They clambered aboard and the oarsmen rowed them back to Kingston Gorse. Hugh could tell his brother was thinking as hard as he was to devise a plan to use the passageway to free the Meltons.
    ***
    Devona had spent ten frustrating minutes in the bolt hole behind the larder, trying to find the means to open the passageway that her grandfather had described to her. He’d been a small boy the last time he was in the passageway and couldn’t be explicit in his instructions. She’d taken Boden with her for courage. So far the dog had obeyed her command for silence and was watching her intently. Suddenly the mastiff cocked its head and lifted its ears. A moment later it was scratching the stone wall and whining. The hairs rose on the nape of Devona’s neck as she tried to quieten the excited dog.
    What does he smell?
    A current of air laden with the stench of stagnant seawater wafted into the confined space where she hid, and Boden barked.
    Is that someone whispering?
    A prickly sensation swept over her at the thought that Hugh was just on the other side of the wall. So near and yet so far away. She placed her palm on the wall, her heart beating wildly.
    “Hugh?” she whispered.
    The dog barked again and she thought she heard the faint sound of running steps and—laughter? Her elation turned to icy fear as she suddenly heard the footfall outside the larder that she recognized instantly—Torod! He’d stopped and was listening too. Boden turned his enormous brown eyes to her and she didn’t doubt the dog knew who was there. She placed a trembling forefinger on her lips. The mastiff made no sound.
    After a few minutes she heard the toad’s steps grow fainter as he walked away mumbling, “Always said evil spirits lurk in this cursed house. Now the ghosts are laughing! And what a foul stench!”
    ***
    “I can’t find the lever, grandfather,”