Page 66 of Rogue of the Greenwood
The narrow way took a sharp turn to the right, then after a hundred feet or so there was a sharp turn to the left. A few yards in, they found themselves at a junction with a much larger passage, one that hadclearly seen much more traffic than the one they had been on. It seemed to be the way that would lead to their destination and an eventual escape from this subterranean world.
Unfortunately, there was an iron gate between them and the larger passage.
“Is it locked?” she whispered.
Robert found a place on the wall near the gate to hang the light. He grasped the gate and shook it. From the sound of chains rattling and iron clanking, she knew the answer to her question.
“Yes, there’s a chain with a lock,” he replied.
She leaned in to peer over his shoulder. Indeed, the chain seemed very old, but secure. The lock had a layer of rust coating it to indicate that even if they had the key, it would likely not open for them.
“What can we do?” she asked, trying not to sound quite as worried as she suddenly felt.
“I think I can get this,” he said, kneeling down to get a closer look at the lock.
Marianne gritted her teeth and leaned back against the roughly carved wall. How long had she been gone from home now? What if she’d been missed? She truly hadn’t thought this escapade through, had she? Tonight was Mr. Gisborn’s dinner. How would she survive that after putting her nerves through all this! If she did, somehow, escape this tunnel and make it home without incident, how would she ever pull herself together?
“There,” Robert said.
The lock clicked open and the chain fell to the side. Marianne was quite startled. How had he opened the thing? She’d not notice him produce a key.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
He held up a thick piece of metal; a nail, perhaps. Had he picked the lock with it? How on earth would Robert Locksley—the most unwilling outlaw imaginable—know how to pick a lock? He offered no actual explanation but dazzled her with another one of his smiles.
“I try to be prepared.”
She was dubious. “Forthis? But how could you possible know you’d need…”
“Oh, but look at you,” he said, his smile fading and concern filling his eyes. “You’re positively shaking.”
She had nothing to say to that, but realized he was right. Between her nerves, her fears, and all that she’d been through in just a few days, she was indeed quite losing her composure. On top of that, the damp air in these tunnels had given her quite a chill.
“Your hands are like ice,” he said, taking her hands and wrapping them in his.
She shivered all the more as he rubbed her hands. The heat from his larger, stronger hands was like fire. It seemed to race through her body, catching here and there to light flames deep inside her. She trembled as every part of her sizzled with a warmth that had nothing to do with air temperature. Robert’s touch was indeed bringing heat back into her body, but it was doing nothing to help settle her nerves.
Chapter 17
She was trembling. Considering her reckless behavior and the cold, damp air of the tunnel, it wasn’t at all surprising. What did surprise him was her unflinching willingness to endanger herself for the sake of others. That she had not complained as he ushered her deeper into the unknown quite impressed him. Even more shocking, though, was the fact that she made no complaint as he held her hands tightly and stood overly close to her.
Once again they were alone together in a perilous position. He found himself wishing he had not thought to carry his lock pick. True, it might have been useful for breaking into the gaol, but it would have been so much nicer to have been trapped here with Miss Maidland, locked in the darkness alone.
But no, he needed to get her above ground as quickly as possible. She was quite chilled, quite frightened, and quite scandalized if anyone should ever know of this adventure. He would keep his mind on the business of getting her safely home and then regrouping with his men. God only knew how their mission was going.
It was difficult to think of them, though, when Miss Maidland was practically in his arms. He had half a mind to warm her a bit more. Would she allow it? He might find it interesting to find out how she would react.
She’d berated him for rescuing her in that runaway carriage. She nearly ran him down in the forest on a stolen mule. She offered to help when he said he needed to find that mortgage document. He was dismayed, surprised, and confused by her at every turn. Now, however, he was at a loss to describe what he felt.
She was the most maddening, worrisome, unpredictable, and enticing woman he’d ever met. He found himself taken by everything about her, even her sharp tongue and the ridiculous costume she was wearing… a costume he was quite sure that he’d seen before.
“I gather this Robin Hood attire is not well suited for dampness and chill,” he commented.
“No… and I couldn’t very well wear my usual things under it.”
Dear God, must she talk of her underthings? The woman shivered from cold, but Robert thought he might literally combust.
“Where did you get it?” he asked, wishing for a distraction. “Oddly enough, it looks exactly like something my grandfather would have worn.”
