What You Propose (Anything for Love 2)

It was a tomb!

She swung around, tapped the wall to her left and followed it until her fingers found the powdery indentations carved into the stone.

With her airways closing, she gasped a breath as she stumbled back into the middle of the room. Just the thought of sharing such a small enclosed space with heaven knows how many corpses was alarming in itself.

Corpses!

Anna shuddered, stamped her feet and wriggled in disgust as though she had walked into a giant cobweb and feared an equally large spider had crawled beneath her cape.

The frantic movements made her feel lightheaded again, and she sagged to the floor to calm her ragged breathing and racing heart.

Was this to be how she would meet her demise?

Was she to take her last breath all alone in a tomb?

Then another thought hit her, the blow more painful than anything she'd ever felt before. Her last words to Marcus had been said in spite and anger. He would never know how much she cared for him. He would never know that her time with him at the monastery had been the most wonderful experience of her entire life. She wanted to tell him she loved him; she understood his pain, could forgive him for his betrayal.

With no concept of time, Anna wasn't sure how long she'd sat there contemplating her fate, replaying the turbulent events leading her to this precarious point in her life. She imagined Victor's evil grin of satisfaction, a glint of pleasure flashing in his cold, black eyes; she heard her father's solemn warning that all sinners must repent or pay a hefty price.

Indeed, with her thoughts just as chaotic as the night she'd heard the intruder in the monastery, she almost missed the sound of footsteps outside.

Jumping to her feet, she rushed forward. "Help. Can you hear me?" She thumped on the door with clenched fists.

It was probably an animal or a group of children playing nearby. No doubt, they'll have scampered home to tell their parents they'd heard the terrifying wail of a ghost from inside a tomb.

The sudden clinking of a key in the lock captured her attention, and she stepped back into the darkness. The door creaked open, beams of light piercing the shadows. A figure filled the doorway: his outline revealing a tall scrawny frame.

He stepped inside and then came to an abrupt halt. "Ce que l'enfer? Qui es-tu?"

Anna swallowed down her nerves. "What do you mean, who am I?" Now the door was open perhaps she could manage to get away. "Surely you're the one who locked me in this morbid place."

The mysterious silhouette took a few steps closer. After scanning her face, his eyes widened as he muttered a foul curse. "What are you doing in here?"

Recognising him as Samuel Lessard, the man they'd seen smoking his clay pipe whilst listening to the minstrel, she said, "Well, you're the one with the key. What possible reason could I have for being in a …" she glanced around the small, compact space. The rows of stone memorial plaques lining the walls were visible now. "In a mausoleum?"

He stepped closer, his brows meeting in the middle as his beady gaze drifted over her. "Ah, it is the whore from England. Poor Marie left all alone with a pile of rotting corpses."

Anna shivered. Samuel Lessard was the man who had spoken to her in the stables. It was uncanny how he sounded so much like Victor. Yet there was one distinct difference. This man's words lacked conviction. When Victor spoke, everyone stopped and took notice.

"Who told you my name?" she said finding the courage to raise her chin.

"Ah, you do not deny your profession, yet challenge me over such a simple thing." He looked beyond her shoulder to a roll of linen lying on top of old sacking on the floor near the far wall. Offering a relieved sigh, he said, "I shall ask you again. How did you get in here? Did those blackguards hope to swindle me? Did they ask you to steal the key from Selene?"

Despite her curiosity, Anna ignored the comment about swindling blackguards. "Selene has a key?"

Samuel Lessard waved his hand in the air. "But of course, this tomb belongs to our family."

What motive could Selene have for locking her in the chamber? But then she had been with Selene when she was taken ill. Her thoughts drifted back to the valerian tea — although she had hardly drunk enough of the disgusting liquid to render her unconscious. Unless it had something to do with the tonic she'd swallowed? Anna snorted. As the cook, Selene could have been slowly poisoning her for days.

But why?

"It may well belong to your family," Anna began, glaring at him with contempt, "but I doubt you've come here to pay your respects."

He smirked

. "Even the dead have their uses. My ancestors have been kind enough to keep watch on an item I have stored in here. And have provided shelter for me these last few nights."

Anna did not need to follow his gaze to know he meant the roll of material lying on the floor behind her. "I'm surprised you went to so much trouble for a roll of linen."