Page 34 of A Bride for the Baron

“You should get plenty of interested men,” she said, becoming as somber as he was. “Many former soldiers have come home to discover there is no work for them.”

He nodded. “And if there are not enough volunteers looking for work, I will look for more elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“Both Sir Nigel and Ashland have expressed their desire to offer assistance. If I contact them, they might have some men they could spare on occasion.”

Her eyes flashed. “Have you lost your mind?”

He struggled not to bristle at her vexed question. “Not that I am aware of, but it would seem that you have a differing opinion.”

“Lord—”

“Edmund,” he corrected in a sharper tone than he intended to use.

It did not matter, because she was now furious and made no effort to conceal it. Her eyes snapped with anger.

“Of course, I have a differing opinion,” she said. “Asking either man for help could be playing right into your enemies’ hands. If one of them is leading the smugglers, as we believe, any man he sends from his estate to help may be a criminal.” She stamped her foot against the ground in her frustration. “Don’t you see the truth, Edmund? How could we trust them to rebuild the church and not create a place for the smugglers to stash their illicit goods in it? If—”

Her voice rose in a cry as her hand slipped off his arm. Her arms flew into the air in the moment before she vanished into the earth.

Chapter Seven

Edmund leaped to grab Vera’s hands. His fingers missed hers by inches. He stepped back when the ground started to slip beneath him. Was the whole top of the cliff ready to give? If the earth collapsed more, it could bury her alive.

He heard running feet. The men must have heard her scream.

“Stay back,” he ordered. “The ground isn’t stable.”

“Where is Miss Fenwick?” someone shouted.

“Down there.” He pointed to the hole where dirt continued to trickle from its edges.

Sims yelled, “Get some timbers out of the fire. We’re going to need them to shore up the ground so we can get her out.”

“No time.” Edmund dropped to his stomach and pushed himself forward with his toes. The buttons on his waistcoat caught, but he kept moving cautiously toward the hole. One of the buttons pinged as if it had been shot from a pistol.

He sensed rather than heard someone behind him. Sims ordered whoever it was back. A low murmur of prayer came from the men.

Edmund concentrated on inching across the grass without disturbing the ground beneath him. When he was able to stretch out his hands and touch the edge of the hole, he shouted Vera’s name.

A faint answer came from below the ground. She was alive!

“We are going to get you out!” he called back.

“Hurry! Hurry, please!” she shouted back, but paused between each word as if fighting for breath.

That spurred him forward. He heard her cry out as more dirt and small stones tumbled down.

“Go back!” she cried. “Get some of boards from the wagons. If you lay them on the ground, you may be able to get close enough so you can reach in and pull me up without bringing everything down on me.”

He looked over his shoulder and repeated her orders. The men scrambled to obey. Only Sims remained by Edmund’s feet. The man pulled off his coat and tossed it aside, then bent to yank off his boots.

“What are you doing?” Edmund asked, inching back and getting to his feet.

“I am the smallest and lightest,” Sims answered. “I have the best chance of reaching her.”

“You’re right.” He clapped the shorter man on the shoulder. “Good idea.”

Edmund helped the men lay the wooden planks on the ground. He winced each time another clod fell into the gap. When Sims asked for someone to hold on to his legs, so if the ground gave out, he would not tumble on top of Vera, Edmund grasped one of his legs while a muscular man whose name he could not remember took the other as Sims crawled on his belly.

Edmund held his breath as Sims edged to the hole. When the man leaned over it, Edmund strained for any sound to reassure him that she was all right.

“Rope!” Sims called over his shoulder. “I need some rope to get her out. Dirt is filling in around her. She can’t move.”

Edmund looked toward the delivery wagons. The pieces of rope there were too short. “The rope marking the new foundation!”

Two men followed him as he raced across the cliff. He hoped none of them fell into another section of what had to have been the smugglers’ tunnel. Unlashing the rope from a stick, he wound it around his arm. The men tore other sticks out and loosened the rope. A length of it trailed behind him as he ran back to where Sims had not moved. He tossed one end of the rope to the prone man. Sims lowered it with care into the hole.

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