Anne Barbour (22 page)

She was well into a good, comforting cry, when she heard David’s footsteps approaching the villa. Stifling her sobs, she busied herself in a corner of the first room with her back to the entrance, but when David’s shadow fell across her work, she spun around and cried, “Why are you here? I really believe I have had a surfeit of your company, my lord earl. Why don’t you just turn around and go back home?”

David paused a moment before answering her, allowing his anger to swell and envelope him.

“I am here because you badgered me into coming,” he said shortly. “I promised I would sketch these ruins, and that’s what I’m going to do.” He turned and limped to the other side of the room and faced the painted soldier. Positioning the sketch pad he had brought with him, he began to draw, apparently oblivious to her presence.

With a ragged, indrawn breath, Kate picked up shovel and spade and stalked from the room into the unexplored regions farther back in the villa, shored up recently by Jem during the three days she had wheedled from Josiah Moody. Soon the only sound to be heard was a furious chinking as Kate bored her way further into the concealing dirt.

David looked down at the jagged strokes he had completed and, with an oath, tore the paper from the pad and crumpled it into a tight wad before tossing it to the ground.

Damn! Why had he let himself be drawn into what was really no better than a nursery room brangle? He listened to the infuriated clatter emanating from the dark interior of the villa and was forced to smile. He could just picture Kate working off her temper in an assault on the earth. Her hair must be flying. She’d hardly needed to take a lantern; by the time she had flounced off, her flaming mop looked as though it had reached combustion point.

His smile faded. He knew she hadn’t really meant the incensed remarks she had hurled at him. Surely she didn’t believe that he had become toplofty since attaining his title. Did she? And, of course, she knew better than to think him mean-minded. Didn’t she? Worst of all, she had not denied her acquiescence in the passionate scene he had witnessed earlier.

A pall of gloom settled over him as he forced his attention to the task at hand. He began with the face of the man with the scar. He glanced at the battle-scene mural across the room. Was the man he sketched here the same officer who led his men in an attack? Attack on what, he wondered. The object of the assault could not be seen. His men certainly seemed to think highly of him. At least, none of them had taken their eyes from his form as he beckoned them forward. Or, David chuckled, perhaps it was the officer himself who was the artist. His hand paused for a moment, arrested at the thought. Could it be possible? he wondered. He looked around for the marble head before remembering that Kate had taken it to the house. He agreed with her that the boy was more than likely a member of the family who had lived in the villa, and it seemed probable that it had been created by someone who knew the boy personally, perhaps someone who loved him—his father?

David stepped back to look again at the face of the Roman officer. How odd to think that a soldier with a talent for art had lived in this place almost two thousand years ago, leaving his work to be appreciated by another soldier with the same knack.

His ruminations were cut short by a loud, jarring, rumbling noise, followed by Kate’s scream. As he whirled toward the sound, the villa was filled with the cracking of splintered wood and the thunder of falling earth.

David leaped for the entrance to the interior room, and peered frantically into the dust-filled blackness.

“Kate? Kate! Are you all right?”

He blundered into a beam of wood leaning crookedly across in his path, and, lifting his lantern, made out others scattered on the floor. He saw what appeared to be a gaping hole in one corner of the room, but of Kate, there was no sign.

Chapter Sixteen

“Kate!” David called again, choking in the dust that enveloped him. “Are you all right? Can you hear me?”

He moved toward the hole that had opened in the dirt floor in the far corner of the room, calling as he went and tripping over fallen beams in his haste.

“Kate!”

“Yes, I’m here.” David went weak with relief at the sound of the muffled voice issuing from the hole. “I’m all right—I think.”

By now, David had made his way across the room, and he bent over the cavity, lantern lifted high. For a moment, he could see nothing in the clouded blackness, but then he discerned movement. He flung himself onto his stomach and held the light over the area. To his horror, he beheld Kate—or rather her head and shoulders—trapped beneath several beams of wood. The pit in which she lay appeared to be some five feet deep. One large beam lay across the top, so that both ends rested on the main level of the floor. It had apparently borne the brunt of much of the cave-in, composed of more wood, roof tiles, and the other assorted debris, which had showered down on Kate.

David looked above him and was not reassured to note that those beams which remained upright, evidently part of Kate’s reinforcement efforts, stood askew and looked ready to join those already fallen.

“No! Don’t do that!” he cried, as he saw Kate begin to twist her body in an effort to release herself from her wooden prison. “You’ll bring the whole place down on our ears. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” panted Kate. “I don’t think anything is broken, but— I can’t move.”

“That’s just as well right now.”

He set the lantern down and made a quick survey of the room. Part of the roof, which had managed to sustain itself for over a thousand years, had caved in at last, allowing a few rays of natural light to penetrate the blackness within. Only three remaining supports still stood above the hole. Two were slender, twisted bits of timber, which had been set up by Kate and Jem. The third was one of the original supports, a huge, ancient beam, now disastrously cracked. This was all, thought David in horror, that stood between Kate and certain death from further cave-in.

“Look, Kate. Before I can begin to try to get you out of there, I must figure out a way to strengthen the remaining structure in here. Can you remain very still?”

“Yes,” Kate whispered. “But, David, you cannot!” she continued as she saw what he was about. “You cannot lift those— you must go back to the house for help—you will ruin yourself!”

“There’s no time. This whole place may crumble at any moment.”

Looking about, he discovered two sturdy beams that lay on the floor, untouched by any of the other timbers. Slowly, and with infinite care, he raised one in his arms and pushed it into a position of support beside one of the remaining, damaged timbers. Once he had it set into position, he gave a final, sudden shove to ram it into place. The faulty beam shuddered and gave way, crashing to the floor near David. Kate gave a little scream.

“No, it’s all right,” called David hastily. “The new beam is holding.”

He turned and lifted the second timber from the floor, and again he raised it and eased it into position.

Kate gasped in fright, for the second, damaged support stood almost directly above the pit in which she lay. If it were to fall in the wrong direction, she or David would surely be crushed. She closed her eyes as David prepared to push the new beam into place, and flung her one free arm over her head.

As he had before, David put his shoulder to the support and shoved it into its new position. And as before, the motion caused the damaged support to collapse. It crumpled noisily to the earth in three pieces. Kate’s eyes flew open, and to her shuddering relief, she saw that it had missed David. He had already moved to the large timber that lay across the top of the pit and begun dragging it away. He was soon breathless with exertion, and as he gave a desperate lunge, his weak leg collapsed under him and he cried out involuntarily.

“David!” Kate cried in anguish. “Surely, I am safe now. The ceiling is supported. Please do not try to do any more yourself. You must be in great pain—please, David!”

“I’m fine,” he replied, his breath coming in gasps. “And you are not safe yet. I believe the other beam”—here he pointed to the ancient beam still standing above them—”is ready to collapse at any moment.”

In truth, such had been his preoccupation with removing Kate from her entombment with all possible speed, that he had been oblivious to his own discomfort. He was only dimly aware of the pain that lay on the fringes of his consciousness, like an assailant lying in wait. He struggled to his feet, and with one more push slid the beam into a position where it was no longer an impediment.

He tumbled into the pit and, pausing for only a moment to assure himself that Kate was unharmed, began peeling away the layers of rubble that covered her. She was soon able to assist him, but it seemed another eternity before she was free.

David surveyed her with some misgiving, and his mouth lifted in a weary smile.

“You look like something swept out of the ironmonger’s shop, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Tenderly, he reached to brush a clot of dirt and what appeared to be a broken nail from her hair. “You must feel like it, too.”

Kate laughed shakily.

“Well, nothing’s broken, but I fear I’m going to present a splendid assortment of bruises once I get cleaned up.”

Above them, the ground shifted suddenly, and the remaining beam shuddered with a terrifying creak.

“Come on, Kate, let’s get you out of here. Now.”

David scrambled awkwardly out of the pit, and stretched out on his stomach once more. He held out his arms to Kate, and she fairly leapt into them. As he lifted her clear, the ancient beam chose that moment to give away. David grasped Kate tightly in his arms and rolled away from the lip of the hole, as, with a thunderous crack, the timber crashed to the floor, completely obliterating the spot where Kate had been imprisoned.

Safe in David’s embrace, Kate lay shuddering convulsively. She could feel the pounding of his heart against her cheek. For a moment, they remained thus, then David whispered urgently, “We must leave this place. I don’t know how long the timbers I set up will hold.” Rising, he scooped Kate into his arms and ran through the front rooms of the villa and out into the blinding brightness of daylight.

Once free of the ruined dwelling, David set Kate on her feet, but he did not release her. She made no move to step beyond the shelter of his embrace, but allowed herself the luxury of resting her head on his chest. There she remained until, very gently, he lifted her head. She was intensely aware of the length of him pressed against her and as she met his gaze, it seemed as though something hot and compelling in his eyes reached out to touch the center of her being.

He lifted his hand to push a bright tendril of hair away from her face. He stroked her cheek, and continued to gaze at her with a hunger that made her catch her breath.

“Dear God, Kate,” he whispered. “I was afraid I was going to lose you—so afraid ...”

Now the pounding of her own heart thudded in her ears, and her arms involuntarily tightened around him.

“David,” she whispered. Then again, so softly that he was not sure he heard her aright. “David, my dearest.”

He laid his cheek on her hair, and it took only the slightest motion to bring his lips to her temple, where he could feel the throbbing of her pulse, then to her cheek, soft and smelling of lavender and dirt. She lifted her face to him, so that it was the most natural thing in the world that his lips should next encounter hers. They were warm and pliant and achingly desirable.

At the first touch of his mouth, Kate felt herself responding with an eagerness that both startled and delighted her. She felt adrift in sensation and in mindless wonder at the shattering lightness of his kiss. Her lips parted in welcome as her fingers clasped the dark hair curling on the nape of his neck. Her body arched against him, and as his hands began to move on her back, she shivered with pleasure and a longing for more, although she wasn’t at all sure what “more” might be. She only knew she wanted this moment to last forever—the kissing that grew increasingly urgent, and the stroking that gradually encompassed more and more of her body, and ...

When David pulled away from her abruptly, she almost lost her balance. For a moment, she stared blindly at him, her eyes large and bereft.

God, he berated himself, what was he thinking of?

“I—I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean—I was so—concerned, I...”

Kate, suddenly cold, interrupted.

“I quite understand. I, too, became—-flustered, I fear. After such an incident—one’s emotions become—that is ...”

“Quite,” said David in a barely recognizable voice.

Kate turned swiftly and hurried toward the spot where they had tethered the horses. David moved to follow her, but was brought up short by a stab of white hot pain in his hip. He cried out involuntarily, and, ashen-faced, clutched at a nearby tree for support.

“David!” Kate was at his side in an instant. “Dear Lord, you
have
ruined yourself.” She tried to ease him to the ground, but he waved her away.

“No,” he gasped. “If I don’t keep standing, I won’t be able to move.” He swallowed convulsively in an effort to control the waves of nausea that threatened to overcome him as the pain, so long held at bay, washed over him.

It was some moments before he was able to speak. “If you’ll give me your arm,” he said in a shaking voice, “I believe I can walk.” Kate drew a sharp breath in protest, but again, he gestured in denial. “That always seems to be the most helpful thing I can do.”

Kate hesitated, then placed David’s arm around her shoulder, and slipped hers around his waist. He took a tentative step forward, and then another. He tried not to let all his weight fall on Kate’s slender shoulders, but was unable to stop himself from doing so. She remained steady at his side, unflinching, accommodating her steps to his halting stride.

He expelled a breath that was not quite a groan, and Kate stiffened.

“David, this is madness. You must rest here while I go back to the house for help. I know it will be a long wait, but...”