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That cellar had been dry and warm; this hole was foul with damp, rats, and rot. Denis's man got on his knees and held me under the arms. He strained his weight against mine as he lowered me slowly. When I judged that I was about four feet from the floor, I told him to let go.

He removed his hands, and I slithered down through mud and earth, a little farther than I'd thought, then my feet landed, thud, on the hard-packed floor.

"Lantern," I barked. My words fell flat on moist walls, close around me. The lackey lowered the lantern to me, and I reached up and grabbed its handle.

The light showed me little but a narrow tunnel with mildew-encrusted brick on one side, rotten boards and mud on the other. The air was fetid and as Grenville had remarked, smelled of cesspits, but as I stepped forward, the smell receded, as though it had been trapped here but released when we opened the hole.

I heard the voices of the men I'd left on top. "You all right, Lacey?" Grenville called down. "Please answer. I am the smallest man out here and do not relish climbing in to pull you out."

I knew full well that Grenville would ruin his coat climbing down if necessary. He'd destroyed gloves, waistcoats, and fine suits in his adventures with me without a word, much to his valet's despair.

"I am fine," I said. "I am moving forward, following the house wall."

So saying, I took a few steps, hoping I did not come to a rotted part of the floor that would send me plunging into a far worse hole, or straight into the Thames.

I moved on carefully, wondering if anyone had truly been down here in recent times. The air was still, but breathable, and I reasoned that there must be more holes in the bank somewhere.

Darkness yawned before me. I took a few more steps, and then the brick wall angled sharply in front of me. "Damn," I muttered. I called back. "I've come to the end. There's nothing here."

"Do you want me to shake up old Bill, Captain?" Denis's more talkative man shouted. "Make him tell what he knows about this place?"

"No," I said, turning back. "Let him alone. He's terrified enough."

"Right, sir." He sounded disappointed.

"I'm coming back. You'll have to lift me out."

I started forward, and then I heard it. Distinct, and behind me, soft in the close air, I heard a faint whimper.

I hadn't imagined it. I couldn't imagine it down here in this horrible place with nightmare things crawling over my feet. I swung around, holding the lantern high.

The brick wall, I found when I examined it again, didn't reach all the way to the ruined wall. There was a space between it and the dirt bank, just large enough for me to squeeze around. Or rather, almost large enough. I got caught between brick and mud and had to struggle and curse before I popped through.

Beyond was a dugout space, black and close, not four feet square, beaten against earth and shored up with old brick.

In this space lay two girls together. One sat against the wall, and the other leaned on her, her head on the older girl's breast. They wore dirty blindfolds tight against their eyes, their hands bound behind their backs.

I did not know the girl sitting upright, but I did know the other one who lay on her-my own Gabriella.

The cry that tore from my throat echoed in the still air. Tears blurred my vision, and I dashed them away, needing desperately to see.

The girls lay motionlessly, not reacting to my presence. I banged the lantern to the floor, grabbed a knife from my pocket, and knelt, jerking the blindfold from Gabriella's eyes.

It must have been she who whimpered, because she did it again, screwing her eyes shut at the glare of the lantern. I pulled her up from the other girl, who did not move, and sliced the bonds that held Gabriella's hands.

I gathered Gabriella into my arms, holding her against me, kissing her hair and face, tears wetting my cheeks and smearing mud against hers.

"Gabriella," I whispered over and over again. "I found you. My sweetest girl. I found you."

Chapter Seventeen

"Lacey!" Grenville's cry rent the air. "Where are you? Answer, damn you."

I choked on sobs, rocking Gabriella in my arms. I could not tell if she knew who I was, but she relaxed against me, limp, and did not fight.

The other girl moaned and stirred. Alive, thank God. Holding Gabriella, I reached over and wrenched the other young woman's blindfold away. As Gabriella had, she cringed from the light, making noises of panic.

"It's all right," I said hoarsely. "You're safe now. You're safe." I turned and shouted through the gap in the wall, "They're here. I found them!"

My voice came out a croak. I couldn't project it all the way to the hole in the roof.

"Lacey?" Grenville's voice sounded closer, as though he'd stuck his head through the opening. "Shout again."

"I found them," I said, tears in my voice. "Bring rope, for God's sake."

There was a stunned moment of silence, then Grenville scrambled up and began shouting orders. More noise at the entrance, argument, this time Auberge's voice, and then I heard someone scramble into the hole.

"You're safe," I whispered into Gabriella's hair. "Oh, my dearest love, you're safe."

She looked up at me, coherence entering her eyes. "You," she whispered, sounding puzzled, her voice cracked.

"Sweetheart, I have been looking everywhere for you." I squeezed my eyes shut and simply held on to her.

"Gabriella." Auberge panted on the other side of the gap.

Gabriella shoved me away. Joy lending her strength, she flew to her feet, flung her body through the hole in the wall, and threw her arms around Auberge. "Papa!"

The word struck through my heart. Auberge caught Gabriella, crying and kissing her.

The other girl was squinting at me through the lantern light. "Who the devil are you?" she asked in a weak voice.

"Captain Gabriel Lacey," I said. "At your service, ma'am." I sliced the ropes from her wrists, and she sagged against the wall. "Are you Black Bess?"

"Aye, it's me." Her eyes were haggard rather than hopeful. "I'm that glad to see you, whoever you be. Lord, but I could murder a beefsteak." Then she fainted.

We lifted the two girls from the foul hole with the aid of ropes Grenville had fetched. Gabriella was boosted out first, Auberge holding her until Grenville could hoist her up. Gabriella tried to hold the rope herself, but her grip slipped in her exhaustion. Grenville and one of Denis's men caught her and eased her onto the ground, moving as gently as could be.

I carried the recumbent form of Black Bess, limp in my arms, she having endured a longer burial than Gabriella. She opened her eyes again as we lifted her free, and she reached for the brawny arms of Denis's man, who pulled her to the open air.

As I dragged myself from the hole, the last one up, I saw Grenville's carriage, his matched grays pale smudges in the night, pull up at the end of the street. The lane was too narrow to admit the coach, and Jackson climbed down from the top.

Auberge cradled Gabriella in his arms, crooning something softly in French. She leaned her head on his shoulder, eyes closed, her body melding to his, as though it knew the source of safety. I laid my hand on her head, smoothing her hair, but she never responded to my touch.

Black Bess stood on her feet, but she leaned heavily against Grenville. "I can walk on me own," she insisted. She took a step, and her legs crumpled. "Devil take it."

Grenville lifted her without a word and began to carry her to the carriage. One of Denis's men grabbed Bottle Bill, who still rocked and wept against the house, and dragged him along with us.