The Spy Catcher by S. K. McClafferty

Author:S. K. McClafferty
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Colonial romance, spies, historical romance, sensual, Revolutionary War
Publisher: S. K. McClafferty
Published: 2013-07-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

He glanced at her but did not answer, going instead through the door that opened into the rectory parlor. Fallon followed along behind him.

In the church sanctuary, they were greeted by an eerie silence, a silence so profound that their every movement, every footfall, seemed magnified tenfold. Fallon's heart picked up its pace as Draegan mounted the steps to the altar and stood, waiting for her to join him. Raising her skirts with one hand, she ascended the steps and took her place by his side. He raised the lantern high.

"Beneath the cross is a small lever. Reach under and pull it down."

Fallon slipped her hand beneath it, found the lever, just as he had indicated, and pulled it down A low, rumbling groan issued from deep within the building and a section of the wall gave way. "How on earth did you find this?" she asked.

"My method hardly matters now. Suffice it to say that after weeks of searching through musty parish records, of endlessly combing over the structure itself, I found it. Will you go first, or shall I?"

Fallon frowned at him. "This is the reason behind your questions about Grandfather and the church's construction? How did you know it even existed? I've lived here all my life, and I hadn't the smallest inkling. And more important still—where does it lead?"

"It leads to the manor."

"My home? But that can't be!"

"Oh, but it can. You asked last night how I came to be in the library so late. Here is your answer."

Fallon shook her head. "I don't understand. How can it have been here all these years, with no one the wiser?"

He lifted his broad shoulders in an elegant shrug. "The elders who knew of it have gradually died away, and the passageway's usefulness decreased as the land grew tame and the danger of Indian attack lessened."

"And it was forgotten," Fallon said.

He smiled, but the expression was devoid of humor and totally lacking in warmth. "Not com­pletely. Someone remembered. The lever concealed by the cross and the panel hinges have been kept well oiled, and the passageway itself shows signs of a recent use."

"What use?"

Draegan raised the lantern high. Sparks of light danced over his darkly handsome visage, catching in his sable hair, kindling in the translucent depths of his eyes. "Its intended purpose—concealment, escape."

"Dear God," Fallon whispered as realization dawned. "You think that Sparrowhawk—"

"I don’t think it. I know it." He took her arm and drew her closer to the gaping black maw. The chill damp reached out to caress her like an unseen hand, carrying the smell of dank, moldering earth to her nostrils. Inwardly, Fallon shrank back. She'd never liked closed-in spaces, and standing on the preci­pice of the lightless hole was like standing at the crumbling edge of an empty grave.

For a long moment, Fallon's fear waged war with her innate curiosity, and there was silence between her and Draegan. The struggle was mercifully brief; her thirst for enlightenment, the driving force in her life until now, won the contest.

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