Page 43 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
Such a small thing, but it had sent a warm feeling through his chest, knowing he could make her laugh.
That and having her hand linked through his arm. He’d have preferred to be escorting her through Hyde Park or, at least, a tour of the abbey gardens—but a promenade around the crypt it was!
The sarcophagi themselves were quite fascinating, many dating to the abbey’s foundation. The monks had gone all out engraving the great vaults more elaborately than one would expect—although the stonemason’s skills may have been limited, since he opted for the same design over and over.
Intertwined snakes weren’t quite what Benedict would choose for his own coffin, but there was a certain appropriateness to it. With the shedding of their skin, they were "reborn": a metaphor for Christian resurrection at the Final Coming, he supposed.
Some of the vaults detailed later years and the names of his own ancestors. His uncle had arranged the interment of his parents down here, as well as his aunt. He couldn’t help but ponder how many original occupants had been ousted from their resting places so that a noble Studborne could leap into their grave.
Now, that would make a study!
“Not all civilizations bury their dead, you know,” he went on. “A South American jungle tribe, the Wari, view ground burial as cold and isolating, trapping the soul for all eternity.”
She pressed herself quite close as they walked. Probably to keep warm, of course. Neither of them was dressed for an excursion into subterranean realms.
“What do they do instead—or shouldn’t I ask?”
“They roast the body and eat it.”
“Urgh!” she batted him sideways with her hip. “Gruesome!”
They were mid-way along the fourth wall when he spotted what they’d been searching for. How typical that it should be so close to where they’d started. Had they but walked anti-clockwise, they would have come upon it far more quickly.
Nevertheless, his relief was great. He’d hardly been relishing explaining this predicament to his uncle. With any luck, they might yet return to their beds and no one would be the wiser.
The door was clearly not in frequent use but nor was it locked and, turning its handle, they were met immediately by a flight of stairs.
Miss Burnell was jubilant. “Oh, well done!” Surrendering his arm, she began making her way up with athletic speed.
“Do take care.” Closing the door behind them, he hurried after.
They ascendedan extraordinary number of stairs before reaching a passageway he’d never seen before. Miss Burnell had slowed at last, uncertain where they might be.
The lamp revealed bare timber joists, swagged between with the dens of a thousand spiders.
“I’d say we’re between two inner walls.”
“Really?” Miss Burnell eyed the lath work but kept her hands tucked well away from the cobwebs. “A hidden passage. That’s rather thrilling! Now, we just need to see where it comes out.”
Reaching the end, the joists upon the right were replaced by a solid piece of wood fitted within a frame.
“This must be it,” said Miss Burnell excitedly. “But where’s the handle?”
The crank was discreet, positioned near the ceiling: a spring attached to a winding mechanism. Three turns and the spring expanded, pushing open the panel a few inches.
Benedict handed her the lamp, inviting her to go first.
“What can you see?” he asked, following behind.
There was a frantic yapping and something small and white thundered across the floor.
“Pom Pom!” Miss Burnell caught him up in her arms.
The passageway had led to her very own room.
Chapter 16
Having beenup half the night, Rosamund remained asleep well past her usual waking time. To her surprise, it was her mother who roused her, fully dressed and looking far more like her old self.
