Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) (25 page)

"Wh—what happened to him?"

Marquis shrugged. "There is no mark on him. He appears to have died of natural causes. Pity he was so greedy and had to die alone."

She suddenly felt the bile rising in her throat and knew she was going to be sick.

Rushing toward the archway, she felt her foot land on a rock and she lost her balance. Grabbing at thin air, she tried to catch herself. As she fell forward, she clutched the boards that had been used to shore up the walls. A splintering sound split the air, followed by a loud, rumbling noise. Marquis gripped Valentina and pushed her behind him just as the whole mine seemed to pour down upon them. Valentina reached out frantically to Marquis, but already the torch had been smothered out, leaving them in total darkness.

"Marquis, where are you?" she screamed just before something hard slammed into her head and she fell into unconsciousness.

Marquis knew what was happening but was helpless to prevent it. He heard Valentina scream and tried to reach her. With a loud rumble, the heavy timber collapsed, crushing Marquis's leg beneath it. Pain shot through his limb and he moaned in agony. A whirling tide of pain pinned him to the ground. In a desperate effort, he reached out again for Valentina. Why was she so silent? he wondered frantically.

Marquis's last conscious thought was to wonder if Valentina had been injured.

19

Valentina regained consciousness in a haze of fear. She was in a pitch black hole, feeling as if she were in the very bowels of the earth. She had landed hard and she tested her arms and legs to see if they had been injured. Suddenly she remembered the baby she was carrying and her hand instinctively moved down to her stomach. She hoped with all her heart that the fall had not harmed her unborn child. When she tried to rise, a shower of rocks and dirt sifted down around her, cautioning her that there could be another cave-in if she were not more careful.

After slowly lifting herself onto hands and knees, Valentina rose shakily to her feet. With her back pressed against the wall of the mine, she edged her way forward, an inch at a time.

"Marquis, are you hurt? Answer me if you can." When there was no immediate response, she feared Marquis had been badly hurt.

If only she could see, she thought wildly. The only sound that penetrated the darkness was dripping water somewhere in the distance.

"Marquis, where are you?" she called out in a panic-stricken voice.

Stopping her progress to listen, Valentina heard a soft moan somewhere ahead of her in the darkness. Dropping down to her knees once more, she crawled along in the inky blackness, reaching out in front of her, trying to locate Marquis. Suddenly her hand came in contact with his body. Quickly feeling for his face, Valentina found that Marquis's eyes were closed. Another soft moan convinced her that he was not dead. Tenderly she touched his face again, feeling gratitude in her heart that his life had been spared.

"Marquis, are you all right?" Now she was wild with grief, fearing he had been badly injured. Feeling his breath on her hand, she realized he was unconscious.

Tentatively, she began examining his arms and legs to see if he had any broken bones. Her heart sank when she •discovered that his legs were pinned beneath a large section of wood that had been used to shore up the mine. Valentina grabbed the timber with both hands, lifted with all her might, and felt it give a little. With desperation, she thrust her shoulder against the timber and used it as a lever. After pushing and straining, she was at last rewarded when the wood slid off Marquis.

Valentina quickly examined him and breathed more easily when she felt his steady heartbeat. Then she ran her fingers over his legs. Although he was unconscious, she felt him flinch in pain. The probing continued, but she was more gentle, feeling first the left leg, then the right one. As her hand slid down the right thigh, she felt something warm and sticky and knew it was blood.

"Marquis, speak to me," she urged desperately. "Please tell me what to do."

Again there was no answer. Knowing she must take quick action, Valentina ripped a strip of cloth from her petticoat and bound it securely about the leg that was bleeding. In frustration, she wished for water to cleanse the wound and a knife to cut his trouser leg away.

Finally, not knowing what else to do, Valentina lifted his head onto her lap, praying all the while that his wound was not too serious and he would be all right.

Time had no meaning for Valentina as she stared into the hellish blackness. She kept one hand on Marquis's chest, comforted by the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Once in a while a soft moan would escape his lips, but he did not regain consciousness.

In her despair, Valentina cried out Marquis's name, only to hear the muffled sound echo off the walls of the mine. How long she sat there with Marquis's head in her lap she had no way of knowing. Soon her head nodded, and she drifted off to sleep.

Valentina was jarred out of her sleep by the sound of a muttered oath. "What in the hell is happening?" Marquis swore. When he tried to sit up, pain shot through his legs and he fell back, trying to catch his breath. "What has happened?" he questioned in confusion.

Valentina touched his face, forcing him to lie back on her lap. "We were in a cave-in. Lie still. I fear your legs have been badly hurt."

In the dark he groped for her hand. "Yes, I remember now." His voice was filled with all the uncertainty Valentina was feeling. "How long have we been here?"

"I have no way of knowing because it's so dark. Is your injury very painful?"

Marquis tried again to rise. Valentina felt him straining before he collapsed and his head fell back onto her lap. "I do not believe my legs are broken, but I cannot seem to move them."

"Marquis, both your legs were hurt, but your right one was bleeding a great deal, so I bound it with my petticoat. They . . . they may have been crushed. You must lie still."

He was silent for a moment, as if he were assessing the situation. Finally he spoke. "Have you heard any sound that might indicate someone might be digging us out?"

"No, nothing," she answered.

"I thought not, but we shall," he stated with confidence. "Tyree will discover us missing and be up here before too long." Marquis reached for her hand and gripped it reassuringly. "Help me stand, Valentina. We cannot just sit here doing nothing."

She heard him groan when he moved forward. Scrambling to her feet, she took his arm and tried to help him stand.

"It is no use," he told her, falling back. "See if you can find two pieces of wood. I am going to need splints on my legs or I will not be able to walk."

"Don't, Marquis," Valentina begged. "Both your legs are injured. You should not try to stand."

"I must try," he said. "If you do not help me, I will have to do it myself."

"Wait," she agreed, knowing that if she did not help him he might hurt his legs more. Already she was moving along the wall to reach the place where the cave-in had occurred. "I will find boards that were used to shore up the doorway. You just lie still until I return."

Reaching around in the dark, Valentina finally found several splintered pieces of wood. Tucking them under her arm, she made her way back to Marquis. Going down to the ground, she began tearing more strips from her petticoat and attached the splints to both his legs. Marquis gritted his teeth in pain when Valentina tightened the splint.

"You had better rest, Marquis. I am going to make my way back to the mine entrance. It might be that I can dig us out."

"Help me stand, Valentina. I want to go with you."

"No, Marquis. You must stay off your legs as much as possible. We don't know how badly you are hurt or how much blood you have lost."

He reached out and caught her arm. Clamping his lips tightly together to keep from crying out in pain, he stood up slowly. Leaning against the wall, he waited for the wave of pain to pass and fought against the nausea that threatened to engulf him.

Knowing what a proud man he was, Valentina said nothing else about him staying off his injured legs. She knew she would only be wasting her breath.

She clasped his hand in hers, and they both made their way slowly toward the mine entrance. It seemed to take forever to make it a few yards. Every so often, they would pause to allow Marquis to catch his breath. At one point Valentina's foot caught on the edge of a rock and she pitched forward, landing on her stomach. For a moment she was too stunned to move. She could hear Marquis calling out to her, but she could not answer until the pain in her stomach subsided. Fearing she surely had injured the baby this time, her hand stole protectively to her abdomen.

"Valentina, are you hurt?" Marquis asked frantically, flailing out for her in the darkness.

"I don't think so. I just tripped. This is where the entrance caved in, and the floor is littered with debris. Be careful that you do not fall," Valentina cautioned.

"Are you sure you are unhurt?"

"Yes, I was no more than winded," she assured him.

"Find me a good sized piece of wood, Valentina. I want to make a torch."

After she felt around in the dark and found what Marquis required, she crawled over to him and pulled herself up beside him.

"Let me have a strip of your petticoat, Valentina," he urged. He was having difficulty balancing his weight on his injured legs while he dug into his pocket for his flint.

Valentina ripped a strip of her now tattered petticoat and handed it to Marquis. Wrapping the cotton material around the stick, he finally succeeded in lighting it.

The darkness of the cave gave way to flickering shadows of light. Valentina stood transfixed, staring at the rock-strewn litter that stood between them and freedom. There was no way she and Marquis could dig their way out past the unmovable mountain of rock.

Her eyes sought Marquis's, and she saw her own conclusion reflected there. "Are we to die here?" she asked in an uneven voice.

His smile did not quite reach his eyes. "Of course not. If we are not back in a day or two, Tyree will raise a hue and cry. All we have to do is wait."

Valentina suspected that Marquis was only trying to make her feel better. He knew, as she did, that no one would miss them for several days. By that time, it would be too late.

Knowing it was futile to put her thoughts into words, Valentina knelt down to examine Marquis's legs in the light. Already the white rag that was wrapped around his right leg was blood soaked. She had to do something immediately to stop the bleeding.

"Put your arm around my shoulder and allow me to help you move away from here. I need to apply a tourniquet to your wound," she said, taking the torch from him and guiding his arm about her shoulder. Beads of sweat dotted Marquis's forehead. Even though his expression was unyielding, Valentina knew he was in agonizing pain.

Marquis accepted her help grimly, thinking it did not matter if he bled to death, died of hunger, or suffocated when the air ran out. More than likely, this would be his and Valentina's final resting place. He was astounded by her courage. Most women would be crying and carrying on by now. Her silver-blue eyes held no hint of panic in their brimming depths; they held only a sad acceptance of the situation.

Valentina planted the torch in the soft dirt and turned her attention to Marquis. A quick examination showed that the left leg did not appear to be as seriously injured as his right one.

"I should cut your pant leg to apply the tourniquet, Marquis."

"No, just tie it around the upper leg, Valentina," Marquis gritted out. The pain was so acute that his head swam drunkenly.

Valentina modestly turned around before ripping strips from her petticoat. Marquis lay with his back braced against the cavern wall while she tied a strip of material above his right thigh and tightened it to stop the flow of blood. Valentina's heart was heavy as she watched Marquis clamp his lips together so he would not cry out in pain.

She saw the beads of sweat pop out on his forehead and knew he was in agony. After she was satisfied that the flow of blood had stopped, she sat down beside him, watching for any sign that he might be losing consciousness.

"Why not lay your head in my lap," she suggested. "You don't have to put on a brave front for me. I can see that your legs are badly injured." She added softly. "I will make sure the torch keeps burning if you wish to sleep."

His lips quirked into a smile. "You are something very special, Valentina Barrett. I should be taking care of you. What do you intend to keep the fire going with when you have no undergarments left to burn?" Marquis could have told her that the torch was using up precious oxygen they should be conserving for their own use, but he did not. He did not want to cause her undue distress.

Her face eased into a frown. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't insisted on coming here to the mine, neither of us would be in this predicament. Before too long, we will be out of oxygen. Already the air feels heavy, and it's hard to breathe." Her eyes sought his. "I am truly remorseful that I involved you in my problems, Marquis."

He reached out and clasped her hand in his. "Nonsense, Valentina. I will always want you to come to me when you need help."

She smiled slightly. "You talk like there will be a next time. You know, as well as I, that we will never get out of here alive."

"I know nothing of the kind. I think we should both sit as quietly as possible to conserve what little oxygen we have left. I feel help will arrive before long."

"In the event that no one comes . . . what then?"

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. "In that case there is no one I would rather share the hereafter with than you, Silver Eyes."

Looking deeply into Marquis's eyes, Valentina was startled by the warmth she saw there. "I don't suppose this will endear me to Isabel, and who can blame her."

Marquis looked past her and focused his eyes on the torch. She could see the flame reflected in the dark depths of his eyes. "I am no longer pledged to Isabel. Even if we are rescued, she will never be my wife."

Valentina heard the bitterness in his voice. She knew that he was having a hard time focusing his eyes and that he was on the verge of losing consciousness again. Taking his head between her hands, she pulled it down to rest against her lap.

"Don't talk, just rest," she cautioned, moving her hand across his forehead soothingly.

"Do you not want to hear why I am not going to marry Isabel?" he asked in a faint voice.