A Wicked Wager (Avenging Lords 2)

The hinges groaned as Devlin yanked it open.

Rufus pushed through the gap and darted into the dark corridor. Devlin followed. It had been fifteen years or more since he had been in the storage room, was just a boy when he and his brother used to hide and play tricks.

God’s teeth, it was cold.

A shiver ran the length of his spine.

The whirring of the old wheel and Rufus’ loud bark drew him towards the large chamber. Daylight shone through the delivery hole in the ceiling, illuminating the strange scene within.

With his teeth bared and a vibrating growl rattling in his throat, Rufus stood before a cloaked figure, ready to pounce.

The person was too tall to be Juliet.

“Get away from me.” The woman’s voice echoed through the stone room. She shuffled back towards the narrow channel sunken into the floor.

Rufus prowled forward.

“Who are you? What the hell are you doing down here?” Devlin entered the chamber, noted another figure curled into a ball on the floor near the ice pile and knew it was Juliet. He was at her side in seconds. “Juliet? Can you hear me?” He took hold of her shoulders and turned her onto her back.

Good God, her lips were blue, her cheeks a pale shade of grey. Fear held him in a vice-like grip, dragging his breath from his lungs in ragged pants.

“Speak to me,” he begged. “Juliet.”

He needed to get her outside, into the house, somewhere warm.

Devlin stripped off his coat and draped it over her frozen frame, then he scooped her up into his arms. Panic took him again when he failed to feel any heat from her body.

“Did you do this?” he snapped, hugging his wife close to his chest. “Do you work for the baron? Did Biggs send you?”

The woman tried to skirt around Rufus, but he jumped and bounded until she had no choice but to take another step back. The hood of her cloak fell down to reveal a familiar face.

“Mrs Barbary?” Shock prevented him from forming another word.

“Shame on you,” she cried, clearly distraught. “Shame on all of you.”

Her final step sent her tumbling into the frigid water in the channel. Perhaps she thought to swim the length, that the water had to go somewhere and it was her only means of escape. But the sodden ends of her cloak got caught in the wooden structure, dragging her beneath the water, trapping her beneath the wheel.

Cradling his wife in his arms, Devlin rushed to the edge. Juliet was still breathing, but if he left the chamber Mrs Barbary would surely drown. The woman had served his family faithfully for years. And yet she had lied to him when he had asked her about Juliet.

He touched Juliet’s cheek. “Stay with me, love. I shall soon have you warm again.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she whispered, “Devlin. You came.”

Torn between his heart and his conscience, he did the only thing he could. “Rufus will sit with you for a minute or two and then I shall take you home.”

Placing Juliet down gently on the stone floor, he summoned Rufus. “Lie down.” Devlin pointed to a spot next to his wife’s body. Surprisingly, the dog did as he was told. He settled beside Juliet, so close she was bound to feel the heat radiating from his large body.

Devlin wasted no time. He lay on the floor and reached down beneath the wheel. His fingers brushed the sodden fabric of Mrs Barbary’s cloak, and with two hands he grabbed and tugged as hard as he could.

After numerous failed attempts, he finally found the strength to drag her out, to heave her up onto the floor of the chamber. Finding her unresponsive, he turned her head to one side and pumped her chest, waiting for her to cough, to spew the water in her lungs. With no sign of a pulse, he spent another minute trying to rouse her, but it was hopeless.

Failure weighed heavy in his heart, but Juliet was his priority now.

“Perhaps you’re not daft after all,” he said as he patted Rufus on the head.

Hauling Juliet into his arms, Devlin raced to the house. Rufus ran, too, barking to alert the servants of their approach.

Juliet’s eyes flickered open. “Hold me … hold me close, Devlin. I’m so cold.”