Page 4 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
Suddenly, the bird took flight, sweeping towards her. Christina stepped back hastily, flailing, realizing too late that she was too close to the edge and the ground was slipping and crumbling beneath her feet.
She put her arms up to ward off the bird, feeling it brush against her head.
The ground gave way beneath her, and she fell down the cliff, bumping and colliding violently with the rocks into an old, abandoned mining shaft. She hadn’t even realized it was there. She hadn’t even seen it.
She screamed, her hands desperately trying to break her fall. With a rush of sickening certainty, she knew it was too late. She felt the sharp, jagged bump of her head colliding with a rock, the agonizing pain, white-hot and overwhelming, before everything faded to black.
***
Sebastian Cavendish, the Duke of Newquay, took the reins of his horse, leading it along the shore, and frowned. The mist had grown thicker, and it was difficult to see.
For the umpteenth time, he wondered why he had felt compelled to head out for a ride so early this morning. He had lived in this area of Cornwall his entire life and knew that the early morning mists made visibility almost impossible.
I will head back to Newquay Hall soon. I will meander for just a little longer.
Sebastian felt the sea breeze lifting the curls on the nape of his neck before it grew harsher, threatening to take his hat off his head and send it into the sky.
He put a hand on his head to stop it taking flight, squinting his eyes and trying to see through the mist. The lone cry of a seabird sounded into the silence as he picked his way carefully over the rocks.
Suddenly, the mist lifted like a veil, and he realized he was almost upon an abandoned mining shaft. His heart shifted – the shaft belonged to him, one of the many abandoned shafts that dotted this coastline.
He frowned. The wooden boards nailed across the entrance were broken and scattered haphazardly along the ground, which was dangerous. How had it happened?
Abruptly, he stiffened. A black horse was wandering along the clifftop, peering down. A saddled horse without a rider. At that moment, the beast let out a whinny of distress.
Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat. A strange feeling stole over him. Slowly, he stepped towards the opening of the shaft, peering down into the inky darkness. It was as black and silent as the grave.
“Is anyone there?” he called, hearing his voice echo and bounce off the walls.
There was no response.
Sebastian’s frown deepened. There was no reason to think that anything was amiss in the shaft … except for the fact that there was a riderless, distressed horse wandering just above, and the boards were broken. He hesitated for a moment before dropping the reins of his horse and climbing down the old ladder into the darkness.
He swore beneath his breath. He couldn’t see a thing … but he knew he had some matches in the jacket pocket if he needed them.
He called out again, but there was no response. He hesitated. Was he being foolish? Was this strange instinct that something was amiss in the shaft entirely baseless?
He swore again as his boot missed a rung, righting himself. He heard crumbling dirt falling to the bottom.
His heart seized. A low moan from below. Had he imagined it?
He quickened his pace, reaching the bottom. With trembling hands, he found the matches, lighting one with difficulty. He looked around, finding an old lantern, lighting it, and holding it high. A pool of light illuminated the space, and he gasped.
A woman was lying there, not moving, dirty and dishevelled. His eyes raked over her, taking in the distressing scene.
She was wearing a faded, plain grey gown, the type that women servants wore, and a battered old bonnet lay next to her head, with her hair spread around her like a river of gold.
He rushed to her side, putting his arms around her and turning her around. She was as limp as a ragdoll, and her eyes were firmly closed. He could see she was deathly pale and there was a large, bloody gash on her forehead.
“Madam?” His voice was filled with trepidation. “Madam!”
There was no response. His heart filled with trepidation again. Was she dead?
But no. At that moment, he saw the rise and fall of her chest – almost imperceptible, but definite. She was alive. She had survived a fall down the shaft. She was injured and unconscious, but she was still breathing.
Thank you, Lord.
“Can you hear me?” he said loudly, shaking her a little. “Can you open your eyes?”
