Page 51 of A Second Chance for Carys
The wood groaned when the first tormentor started to descend the ladder. How many were there? There was no noise coming from the room above, no scuffling of boots, so perhaps the man was alone. He waited, knowing he would find out soon enough who had come to make him regret attacking the prestigious Earl of Lancaster. But the person standing in front of him when he finally dared to open his eyes was the last one he’d expected to see.
Carys?
Was he dreaming? He’d been in that cell practically all day and most of the night. As a result, he was chilled to the bone, thirsty and slightly delirious. Was he imagining the woman he most dearly wanted to see? It was all too possible.
“What are you doing in the dungeon?” he croaked, hoping she was really here. He’d so dreaded dying without being able to speak to her one last time.
“I’ve come to take you out.”
Chapter Fourteen
James blinked. He was not dreaming then. Carys was truly here in front of him, she was not a vision. Visions did not talk, they didn’t smell like fresh air, and they did not cradle men’s faces in their soft hands.
He leaned into the caress, then turned his head to place a kiss on her palm. The need to rub his cheek against her was so strong he didn’t even try to resist. Only moments ago he had been drowning in fear and despair and Carys was offering him a respite from the horror he was facing, short as it may be. He’d been right all those months ago. Miracles did happen. And against all odds, one had come to Sheridan Manor for him. The only problem was…It had come too late. He would never get to reap the benefit from it now.
In the morning he would be dead.
Mm. Best to put that idea out of his head and ask what he needed to know instead.
“How is Branwen?” He had tortured himself all day over the memory of her, lying pale and limp, in her husband’s arms. Had the shock of the assault caused her to go into premature labor? It would not be unheard of. Had she lost the babe? He prayed it was not the case.
“She’s fine. Thanks to you.” Carys’ voice wobbled. “You saved her, like you said you would, you arrived in time. Oh, James, I can never thank you enough for what you did.”
“Please.” He shook his head. There was no need to thank him. “What else could I have done? I don’t regret it, even if I have to?—”
“You’re not going to die for it!” There was such fierceness, such conviction in her voice that James stared. How could she make such promises to a condemned man? “Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m here to take you out of this cell.”
There it was again, the shocking declaration. Earlier, lost to the joy of seeing her in front of him, soft and real, he had not really paid attention to her words, because he knew she would never be able to get him out of this hellhole. She seemed convinced opening the trap door and getting the ladder down was all she needed to do to free him. It was not.
“You can’t get me out.” He gestured at the shackles holding him captive. Evidently she had not imagined he would be tied up and chained to the wall when she had hatched her mad plan, but it was time she faced the truth. “How did you get in here anyway?”
“Through the trap door.”
The woman had the gall to give him a slanted smile, as if the answer to his question was obvious. It was, since the trap door was the only way to access the dungeon. But of course he was not wondering if she had slipped through the cracks in the wood like some sort of magical rain. Rather, he couldn’t understand how she had not been seen—and stopped—by the guard stationed in the room above the dungeon. How had she convinced him to let her through? Had she appealed to his sensibilities, claiming she wanted to see the condemned prisoner one last time? Against all odds, the man might have taken pity on her. She was irresistible, James knew it all too well.
And now that she had gained access to him, she thought she could get him out. But it was no use. Tied to a hook on the wall by an iron chain, he was not going anywhere, even if the door was open.
Carys straightened up, determination etched all over her face. “Let’s go. I should think you’ve spent enough time in that vile place. I certainly have.”
“We cannot go,” he repeated, getting worried by her refusal to accept facts. Had her mind been unhinged by his arrest? By now she should have seen it was hopeless. Even if she had secreted a weapon about her person, she would never have the strength to break the chain or the time to saw through it before the guard called her back. “How do you suppose to free me of my shackles?”
“With the key the Earl of Lancaster gave me.”
James stared at her. The earl, the man who wanted him dead, had given her the means to set him free?
“What do you mean? Why on earth would he do that?”
It didn’t make any sense. The man meant to keep him prisoner until the king arrived. He would have known she would try to free him if she were allowed into the dungeon. So had he thought to amuse himself by giving her false hope? Had the guard outside been asked to let her through, and reinforcements called to prevent an escape? His confusion must have shown on his face because Carys explained, her voice as steady as if they were having a discussion in the peaceful solar instead of a stinky dungeon.
“I left him no choice. Did you really think I would give up and leave you to rot while waiting for your execution?” She gave something like a snort, as if the notion was too ludicrous to contemplate. “Matthew did all he could to get you freed. In vain. So I went to the earl’s bedchamber once everyone had gone to bed.”
Everything within James dissolved. He could think of only one reason she would have done this. To bargain for his life. And there was only one way she could have succeeded. By using her body. She had gone to a man she knew full well was not above raping women even when they were married and with child, and done what was required to earn a pardon. She had sold her body for him.
It could not be borne.
He could not live with that burden on his shoulders, with the knowledge of what Carys had sacrificed for him. How had she not guessed he would rather die than allow her to be harmed in any way?
“Please tell me you’re lying.”
