Banshee Song
Book Two

Chapter Twenty-Five

"I wonder how long we've been down here," Elizabeth's voice broke the anxious silence.

"Feels like days," Miriam whined.

"Well, it hasn't been. I'd say four or five hours." Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to shut out the other girl's whimpering. She breathed slowly, taking deep, measured breaths, in and out, in and out. Despite her best efforts, her heart continued to race, beating erratically. Her hands shook, her nerves frazzled.

It was so dark. The blackness weighed down on her frail shoulders, threatening to crush her gentle spirit. She found herself panting. She felt like she was being suffocated. The air was stale and provided little relief. She placed her hand on the cold wall beside her, to reassure herself that it wasn't moving, that the walls weren't closing in on her.

Her earliest childhood memory was of falling into a well. She was three and had been playing in a field with Sheamus. Someone had left the cover off of an old well and Elizabeth stumbled and fell right into it. Miraculously, she wasn't hurt, but she was down there in the dark wet hole for hours while Sheamus and others worked to rescue her. She had been so panicked, so afraid. It was her first experience with fear and that fear of dark, enclosed spaces stayed with her for the rest of her life. Even now, it was hard for her to be in a room with the door closed.

A sharp throbbing in her wrist snapped her out of her thoughts. She was almost glad for her broken arm; it was a distraction from the fear that threatened to consume her. {Come on Beth,} she thought, unconsciously using Sean's pet name for her. {Focus on the present, forget everything else.}

She carefully maneuvered to her feet. She held her arms out, feeling around her. "Miriam, where are ye?" she called.

"Right here," answered a tiny voice.

Elizabeth headed toward her voice, feeling for walls and debris on the ground. She knelt beside the sobbing girl. "Let me see your ankle. I don't think anything's broken, but it is definitely swollen. We should wrap it to protect it from further injury and to keep the swelling down. Tear off some strips from your dress."

" What?!" Miriam asked with a touch of her old aristocratic air. "This dress is a one of a kind Paris original," she scoffed.

There was a loud RIP of tearing fabric. Elizabeth pressed a wad of clothing strips into Miriam's hand. "And now it's a one of a kind dirty, bloody rag. Now, are ye bleeding anywhere?"

Miriam's helpless tears returned. "No," she whimpered. "I don't think so."

"Good." Elizabeth sat down to tend her own wounds. Using her good arm and her teeth she tore a large strip from her skirt and bandaged her wrist tightly. She winced from the sharp pain, but continued until her wrist was securely wrapped. She found two thin, flat strips of metal and made splints to keep her from moving her wrist. When that was completed she wrapped several bandages around her throbbing head. She then cleaned the many small cuts and scrapes she found on her arms and legs.

"Now what?" Miriam sniffled.

Elizabeth settled onto the floor and inhaled deeply. "Now we sit back and wait."

"Wait?! For what? No one's going to find us." Miriam's voice rose dramatically.

"Well, what do ye suggest we do?" Elizabeth bit out. Miriam was quickly wearing on her nerves.

"We could try to find a way out of here, for one. This room or whatever has to lead somewhere."

"Do ye know where we are?"

"No."

"I don't either. What I do know is that we are several levels beneath the floor we fell through. We could just be in a basement, or we could be in some old structure that isn't even a part of the castle. My point is that we would literally be wandering blindly through unknown passageways until we were so lost that no one would ever find us. Not to mention we might fall into another hole. Here, at least, we have a chance of being found. Besides, how much walking do ye think ye can do with your ankle?"

"But who's going to find us down here?"

"Sean will find us," Elizabeth replied with unshakeable faith in the man she loved. "He will know something is wrong when we don't show for dinner. He will find us." She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked her body back and forth, taking courage in that one thought. She tried to shut out the darkness and the fear it brought.

"Sean will find us," she murmured softly almost in chant. "Sean will find us."

"I think I see a cabin just through the trees," Sheamus said, eyes squinting.

Rhianna looked in the direction he indicated. Sure enough there was a small log cabin nestled in a secluded location. They began walking toward it and Rhianna frowned. Something about it all felt strange to her. Instead of wandering aimlessly, Sheamus had led her confidently the entire way through forests and over hills, never once letting up his pace. It was almost as if he knew where he was going.

"Ye say that like ye were expecting it to be there," Rhianna said, the unspoken question evident in her voice.

Sheamus paused. "Hmm, I think I might have been out here once before, years ago. This area seems kind of familiar to me. Maybe I was heading here subconsciously."

Rhianna was satisfied with his explanation and soon they stood on the cabin's porch. "Do ye think anyone lives here?" Rhianna asked.

Sheamus peered through a dirty window. "It seems to be deserted – let's find out." He knocked loudly on the door. The door creaked open under the force of his rapping. They cautiously stepped inside.

"Hello? Anyone here?" He turned to Rhianna. "Guess not." A quick exploration of the cabin showed that while it was in good condition, it had not been used in some time. "'Tis probably a vacation home," Sheamus surmised. "I found fresh linens and blankets and there's a water pump out in the back."

Rhianna sank gratefully into a sheet-covered chair. "So I guess we're spending the night here. Together. Just the two of us." Her weighted statement hung in the air as she realized the implications. She would be spending the night, un-chaperoned, with a member of the opposite sex. If anyone found out, her name would be ruined, especially since she was betrothed to someone else.

"Don't ye worry, Lady Cassidy. I'll be a complete gentleman." Sheamus winked.

Rhianna raised her eyebrow in amusement. "Ye, a gentleman? I highly doubt that."

Sheamus was about to reply when something outside the cabin window caught his eye. "Wow," he murmured, moving to the door. He turned to Rhianna. "You've got to see this." The sun was setting outside and before them lay a beautiful view of woods and a nearby lake, all lit up by the sun's pink- orange rays.

"It's beautiful," Rhianna whispered, afraid her voice would destroy the magic of the moment.

Sheamus saw that Rhianna was shivering in only her shift and he draped his jacket around her shoulders. They watched the sun slowly sink behind the horizon. The sky was filled with pinks and purples.

Rhianna made no move when Sheamus slipped his arms around her shoulders. Instead she simply relaxed and let herself enjoy the moment. They watched the last remnant of the sun disappear from view. His fingers idly caressed her back. The sun sent forth its last dazzling rays and then it was gone, leaving behind only the faintest glimmer of light in the evening sky. They stood for a few minutes watching the darkness unfold and stars appear. Then they turned and wordlessly went back inside.

Rhianna groaned as she rubbed her flat stomach. "I honestly can't decide if I'm more hungry than tired or the other way around."

Sheamus chuckled. "Why don't ye relax in a hot bath and I'll see if I can scrounge up a bit of dinner."

The water first had to be pumped and then heated so it was some time later that Rhianna actually crawled into the small bathtub. She slowly eased herself into the hot water, sighing as the dirt and weariness of the day's toils washed off. She inhaled the clean scent of the soap she had found and felt refreshed. She took her time as she washed her thick hair and scrubbed her body. She felt as if it was the best bath she'd ever had. She knew it was time to get out, however, when her pink fingers began to wrinkle.

She couldn't find a towel so she stood for a moment and let the warm air in the bathroom dry her naturally. When she was mostly dry, she put on her shift knowing the cotton garment would soak up any remaining moisture. She wore nothing under the shift and so it was when Sheamus first saw her with her wet hair hanging down her back and her thin night gown clinging to her damp curves – well, his heart nearly stopped. His hungry eyes bore into her, traveling over her full breasts and soft, flat stomach. It took a great force of will but he stopped his eyes from continuing further down her long body and instead forced them back up to her face.

Rhianna blushed but didn't try to shield herself from his devouring gaze but stood still and let him stare. She could tell that he liked what he saw and the thought made her feel wanton, desirable. She stared at him with wide eyes and her knees felt like jelly. What was it about him that made her feel this way when ever he was near? She clutched her quivering stomach and averted her eyes, trying to escape the frightening sensations.

She glanced around the room. It was a very cozy cabin; warm and clean. Dancing lights from flickering candles created a soft glow. Rhianna was moved by the beautiful, romantic setting and gazed back at Sheamus, wonder shining in her eyes.

Sheamus was taken aback by the tender innocence on her face and for a moment felt guilty about his plans. For a moment. "I, uh, found the candles in the pantry. I thought they would be better than sitting in the dark. I found something else in the pantry. I think ye mentioned being hungry?"

"Och, I'm famished."

Sheamus set two steaming plates down on a small wooden table. He had laid a white tablecloth down and tall candles completed the elegant setting. Rhianna noticed that two wine goblets were also on the table.

"It's not much, I'm afraid," Sheamus apologized. "Not much to be had except canned fruits and vegetables. But food is food."

Sheamus held out a chair and Rhianna gracefully sat down, smiling shyly at him. He took a seat opposite her and their eyes met over the candle flames. Rhianna unfolded a linen napkin and placed it in her lap. "Don't worry; I'm sure it will be wonderful."

"Oh, before I forget, I found something else in my exploration." He reached under the table and pulled up a bottle of dark red wine. He studied the label. "Ah, 1906. That was a good year, I think," he added sheepishly. Their fingers met as he poured the liquid into her glass. He noticed with a slight smile the goose bumps that appeared on Rhianna's bare arms.

He raised his glass. "Shall we toast, Lady Cassidy?"

"What shall we toast to, Mr. Brady?"

He gazed deeply into her eyes. "Let's toast to…the future."

Rhianna cocked an eyebrow at his toast. She clinked her glass to his. "To the future."