“What have you seen of Sir Grayson? Has he made an appearance this evening?”
“No, he hasn’t left the house.”
At least not by any of the conventional portals, Lucian concluded. He could order the house searched, but he suspected Brynn was being truthful for once; Sir Grayson wouldn’t be found. There had to be a hidden passage within the house, Lucian realized. He might find it eventually, but his efforts could prove too late.
Philip seemed able to read his mind. “I have men patrolling the beach, as you ordered.”
“They still could slip past with the gold,” Lucian said grimly.
“What do you wish me to do?”
What indeed? Lucian wondered. If Brynn was telling the truth, she could lead him to her brother and the gold.
And what then? Would she then spring her trap?
Did he really have a choice, though? He couldn’t risk letting the
gold fall into French hands. He would have to accept Brynn’s terms, despite the danger.
“Have your men maintain their posts,” Lucian said, turning on his heel. The price of trusting his wife might be his own life, but he had no better option.
Chapter Twenty-one
Lucian allowed Brynn to go first with the lamp while he carried his own pistol at the ready. He wasn’t surprised when she led him through the now-dark kitchens to the wine cellars below, nor when she slipped behind a wall of casks and bent low to open a short oaken door.
“This leads to the coast?” he asked.
“Yes. There are several caves beneath the house, connected by tunnels. The entrance from the shore is hidden in a crevice in the cliff wall.”
“Convenient for your family,” Lucian remarked sardonically.
Brynn shot him a glance but didn’t respond.
When she disappeared through the opening, Lucian followed. A narrow flight of steps hewn into the rock descended into the darkness.
Neither of them spoke as they moved downward. Brynn’s lamp cast flickering shadows over the rock, which was streaked with red and green and purple. When they reached the bottom step, the underground passage flattened out, but Lucian had to stoop to keep from striking his head.
Eventually the tunnel opened into a small cavern where he could stand up straight. This natural hideaway would be ideal for storing a cache of contraband, he knew. The Cornish coast was honeycombed with coves and ravines where a smuggler’s ketch could slip in undetected, but getting the trafficked goods to and from the beach presented a greater challenge. The usual goods would be bulky- bolts of silk, velvet, and lace, casks of wine, kegs of brandy, perhaps tea, all smuggled into the country to avoid the high taxes imposed by the British government because of the interminable war.
The floor of the cavern was wet and treacherously slick, Lucian saw, the rock worn smooth over the centuries by a trickling stream coming from deep underground. When Brynn slipped once, he reached out instinctively to steady her. She flinched at that casual contact, and Lucian drew his hand back abruptly, feeling burned himself.
She moved on through the cave into another man-made passageway cut through the rock. He glanced around carefully, marking his way, before following her. Soon he could hear the distant sound of the sea as it surged against the base of the cliffs.
Shortly the tunnel spilled into another cavern, this one already dimly illuminated by a lantern. Urgently Lucian put a hand on Brynn’s shoulder, silently detaining her. Some fifteen feet away, her brother Grayson was pacing the floor-rather nervously, Lucian saw.
Stepping past Brynn into the cavern, Lucian called out Sir Grayson’s name. The man spun around, reaching for the pistol in his belt. He froze when he saw the weapon aimed at his heart.
Lucian gestured with the barrel of his gun. “I suggest you put it down… slowly.”
For a moment Grayson’s hand clenched around the grip, but then he did as he was bid, carefully withdrawing his pistol and setting it on the rocky ground.
Then he flung his sister a despairing look. “You led him here, didn’t you? Are you pleased with yourself, Brynn, betraying your own flesh and blood?”
The pain on her face was visible, Lucian saw with a glance over his shoulder.
“I didn’t betray you,” she said hoarsely. “Lucian found us out somehow. But I was coming to find you, in any case. There may be another way out, Gray. One that doesn’t involve committing treason.”
Grayson clenched his fists, his fury evident. “Damn you, I told you, there is no other way.”