It was a dank, windowless room; a dim bulb hung from the ceiling. The first thing Rose noticed when she woke up was the floors. They were made of dirt, soft, pack down earth. She was too disoriented to be disgusted. Her mouth was dry, and her head hurt. She raised her hands and realized they were tied at the wrist. It all came back then. She slumped against the wall, fear washing over her. Where were they? And why? Most chilling of all, what was going to happen to them?

Cal groaned next to her. He lay in a heap, his wrists bound as well. Slowly, he raised himself up. He looked around, blinking. "Rose?"

"Yes, it's me." It sounded ridiculous, but she didn't know what else to say.

"What happened?"

"Don't you remember?" she asked.

Cal's brows knitted together, and recognition flashed in his eyes. "We were attacked," he said. "I remember being hit by something. We—We were outside. Where are we now?"

"I don't know."

"Are we alone?" he asked.

"I believe so," Rose said. "I don't hear anything. Do you?"

"No." He examined his bound hands. The knot was thick and well done. "I don't suppose you're free."

She shook her head. "No." She held up her hands. 'We're both helpless, it appears."

"Don't say that." Cal tried to sound encouraging but mostly just sounded annoyed. "There must be a way out of here. Whoever these people are, I doubt they did this without a purpose. They must want something."

"Most likely they want money," Rose said.

"Yes," he agreed. "Most likely."

"I suppose that means we're as good as free."

Cal smiled unconvincingly. "Right. It does."

The silence thickened around them. They sat close enough to touch but didn't. At the other end of the room was a set of stairs leading up to a trap door. Another door looked on the far wall. Rose wondered where it led, if it could be of any use, but she didn't ask. Cal wouldn't know. She glanced at him. His eyes were downcast, and he wore a frown. What was he thinking? Most likely, he was mulling over their situation. Rose wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe he was as capable as he always seemed, but she wasn't sure. This wasn't a board room; it wasn't a gathering of the well-dressed and well-connected. These men, whoever they were, likely wouldn't be impressed by anything Cal had to say.

Rose turned back to the wall. Would she be impressed by him? Had she ever really been impressed by him, or had she just been overwhelmed?

…

Rose's stomach twisted. When had she last eaten? She picked at lunch, leaving most of the food on her plate. She sighed. How long had they been there? Hours? A day? There was no way to mark the passage of time. Heavy footsteps sounded overhead.

She nudged Cal. He was slumped over, asleep. "Wake up," she said. "I think someone's coming."

He jerked up. "What?"

"Listen."

There were more footsteps now. They were coming closer. Voices followed. Rose strained her ears, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. They were men. That much was clear, at least. "Can you hear them?" she asked. Cal shook his head. They waited as the trap door was lifted up. Light fell through the hole in the ceiling. Rose and Cal looked at each other.

Dan appeared first, followed by Sid. "You're awake," Dan said. "Good. Now we can talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," Cal said coldly.

"Oh, I think we do," Sid disagreed. His tone was jovial, but there was a threat beneath the good humor. "For instance, we have to discuss what's going to happen next. How we're going to handle things."

"You're going to be caught," Cal said. "Rest assured, it's only a matter of time before that happens."

Sid's mouth curled up in a lopsided grin. "Is it?"

"Do you honestly think no-one saw you?" Cal replied. "Do you think a search isn't going on for us right now?"

"I'm sure it is," Sid said. "I'm sure every law enforcement official in the state is doing his best to find you, but they won't. We chose this place well."

"What do you want?" Rose asked. Cal shot her a look. Sid's smile widened. His eyes moved across her, and she stiffened. "Is it money?" she went on. "Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?" She laughed drily, earning another reproving look from Cal. "I hate to disappoint you, whoever you are," she said. "But I don't have any. You'll get nothing for me."

Rose didn't know exactly why she said it. She had to say something. Cal's approach wouldn't work. Neither of them knew how to handle a situation like this, but she supposed it wouldn't hurt to throw them off guard a little. Maybe they would even let her go if they thought there wasn't any profit in keeping her. She could find help. Come back for Cal.

Sid's eyes bored into her. She tried to hold his gaze but couldn't. Rose dropped her head, letting her curls cover her face. Or maybe they'd just kill her and be done with it. Maybe she'd made a mistake.

"Sure we will," Sid said. He nodded at Cal. "He'll pay. Won't you? You wouldn't let us do anything to harm your lovely bride-to-be, would you?"

"If you touch her-"

"You're in no position to make threats," Sid said calmly. "I suggest you cooperate with us."

"You-"

"Cal, don't," Rose said.

He stared at her. "Rose-"

"Don't," she said again. "He's right. We'd best do what he says."

Sid nodded approvingly. "Smart and pretty. I like that." Rose shrank under his gaze. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered her. He wasn't the first man to look at her that way, but he was the first to threaten her. Whatever the others were thinking, they wouldn't or couldn't act on it. This man had no restrictions. He could kill them right then and still collect the money. Didn't Cal see that?

"We'll give you some time to think," Sid said.

When they were gone the silence was thicker than before. Rose didn't have to look at Cal to know he was angry. Cold fury radiated from him. Rage at the situation and their captors, but also at her. "You had no right to do that, Rose," he said quietly. He didn't look at her. "Do you know how you made me look? You humiliated me in front of those men. They'll never take me seriously now."

"They didn't take you seriously anyway," she said.

His head jerked toward her. His dark eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. Nothing you or I can say will change their opinion. You can't intimidate them. You can't threaten them. They won't do what you want. These men have the upper hand, and no amount of blustering from you is going to change that."

"What makes you think you can speak to me that way?" he demanded. "I was trying to protect you."

"Nothing you say can protect me. We're at their mercy. Our hands are tied. Literally. Can't you see that?"

"I refuse to accept that," Cal said. "You're afraid. It's understandable. I'm afraid, myself." His eyes softened.

"That's good to know," Rose said.

"Why?"

"It means I'm not alone," she said.

"Of course you aren't alone, Rose. I'm right here."

"That isn't the same thing," she said. "You-" She stopped and shook her head.

"What?" he pressed. "Tell me."

"It doesn't matter. I'm too hungry to talk."

"Those goddamned savages," he muttered. "How do they expect us to survive down here without food?"

"Maybe they don't," Rose said wearily.

….

The abduction was reported that night, a few hours before rose and Cal woke up and found themselves in the cellar. No-one saw anything, though an employee at the next house did tell the police she saw a van speeding away earlier that afternoon.

When they failed to come back in from the garden a servant was sent to look for them, but of course, they weren't there. The garden was empty; there was no sign they had even been there. When they failed to turn up for dinner the police were called.

Ruth was beside herself. She paced the length of the drawing room, handkerchief balled up in her fist. Cal's house was being searched. She'd been told to stay away for fear she'd contaminate the scene somehow. Really it was to keep her from going into hysterics if they did find something. The police weren't sure what to expect. With no obvious signs of violence or foul play it was possible the couple had simply gone off somewhere, alone, of their own accord. But when this was suggested to Ruth she denied any such possibility.

"They would never do something like that," she said. "Rose would never agree to it."

Kidnapping was one explanation. There wasn't a note, so they couldn't be sure. Still, men who weren't as wealthy as Cal had been abducted before, and there were always stories about young girls being snatched off the street.

The call came late that night. A detective answered the phone. A raspy voice asked for Cal's father. Nathan gave the phone a skeptical look before taking it. "Yes?" he said.

"Is this Nathan Hockley?"

"It is," he said. "Do you know where my son and his fiancée are?"

"They're safe," the voice said. "And secure."

"What do you want? Is this about money?"

"This is about more than money. Is that all you people ever think about?" the voice spat.

"If you don't want money," Nathan said. "Then what do you want?"

"You'll find out soon." There was a click, and the voice was gone. Nathan turned to the detective behind him. "Well?" he said. "What do you intend to do?"

"Now that we know this is in fact a kidnapping we can proceed," Ryan answered. "Believe me sir, we'll do everything we can to find them."

"You'd better find them," Nathan said. "And find them alive. And before I lose too much money." His frowned was etched into his face. Expression concern over the money was easier than expressing concern for Cal. Safer. Losing money was only an inconvenience; losing a song was something he couldn't bring himself to even consider.

…..

Rose curled up on her side facing the wall. Her stomach was in knots. She didn't know how long it had been since she last ate, but she knew it was too long. Hunger gnawed at her. Never had she experienced anything like this. It was unbearable. She'd read about starving people. Was this how they felt? Did some people walk around with this kind of pain every day? She was ashamed of herself for taking food for granted. Even before Cal was there to solve their financial problems Rose assumed there would always be another meal waiting when she needed it. The reality of their plight never quite sank in. How could it? Their daily lives never changed.

She shivered. The cellar seemed to grow colder, in spite of its lack of windows. She guessed it was the dirt floor or the block walls. Maybe the cold leaked in through the ground somehow.

Cal hadn't moved. He glanced at her. "Are you alright?" he asked. "That was a stupid question, wasn't it? Of course you're not."

Rose laughed. "It's a habit, asking that. Isn't it? We ask to be polite."

"I do care how you are," he said.

"I'm sure you do."

"What does that mean?" he said.

"Nothing."

"You meant something, or you wouldn't have said it," he argued. "Do you think I don't care?"

"I'm famished and scared," Rose said. "And cold and to be honest, I'd just like to sleep, or at the very least, lie here in peace."

Cal didn't know what to say. This was the most emotion she'd ever shown. He'd never seen her be anything but charming and polite. He almost believed she wasn't capable of anything else. At times he thought he saw passion in her eyes or heard it in her voice, but it was never directed at him, so he dismissed it.

"I'd offer you my jacket," Cal said. "But I'm afraid I can't get it off."

That earned another laugh from Rose. "At least you're keeping me amused."

"I'm not trying to be funny," he said.

"I know you aren't. That's why it is. You never try to be funny, do you?"

"I do," he said defensively. "Sometimes."

"You aren't very good at it then," Rose said.

Cal realized he'd never heard her laugh at anything he'd said before. She laughed at other people's jokes and stories, at plays and books, but never at anything he said. She only smiled, and it never reached her eyes. Did her smiles ever reach her eyes? Or was it only when he was around?

Did it even matter given their situation? There had to be something more important to think about. Cal tried to push it away, but he couldn't stop looking at her. Even now, she was a mystery.

Rose shivered again. She turned as Cal lay down next to her. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Trying to keep warm," he replied. "Do you mind this? It's the best way."

"I suppose it is," she said slowly. She turned back to the wall. She felt Cal's breath on her neck. It was odd but not unpleasant. His body pressed against hers, his bound hands on her back. She'd never wanted him this close before, but now there was something comforting about it. She wasn't alone, and she was warmer. For a brief moment Rose wondered what it would be like if their hands weren't tied; she wondered if Cal would hold her, and if he did, what would that be like?

…..

"Wake up," Dan ordered.

Rose opened her eyes and found herself still in the cellar. Cal was sitting up next to her. His black hair was mussed, and his eyes were bleary. "Rose?" he said.

"Yes, it's me," she said reassuringly.

"We're all here," Dan said. He carried a tray with two bowls of oatmeal and two cups of water.

Cal glanced at it. His nose wrinkled in disgust. "I hope that isn't breakfast," he said.

"Indeed it is," Dan replied.

"Be quiet, or we won't get anything," Rose said.

"Smart," Dan said. He set down the tray. "Hold out your hands." A blade appeared, and the rope was cut, first on Rose's wrists and then Cal's. Rose took her bowl and spoon. It was all she could do not to begin scooping the cold oatmeal into her mouth. She didn't want their captor to see her eat, so she waited. Cal stared down into his bowl. The oatmeal was beige; it had no smell, and he suspected, no taste either.

"That's all you're getting," Dan warned. "You'd best eat it while you can." He gave a short laugh as he went up the stairs. The door closed with a loud bang. They listened as something heavy was pushed across it.

Rose held the bowl up to her face, eating ravenously. She didn't care how cold and bland the oatmeal was; at least it was good. The bowl looked clean by the time she finished. She drank the water, barely pausing to breathe between gulps. Cal watched with a mixture of horror and concern. His breakfast remained untouched.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Rose asked.

"You mean eat this? You can't be serious, Rose."

"It's all we have," she reminded him. "You can't tell me you aren't hungry. I could eat three more bowls if I had them."

"You can have mine," Cal offered.

"No, you need it."

"I really can't eat it," he insisted.

"Cal, you have to eat it, no matter how demeaning you may find it. You can't starve yourself because you find the accommodations offered by your abductors less than satisfactory," Rose said. "This is a serious situation. Who knows when they'll give us more food."

"Do you think I don't know how serious things are?"

"You haven't been acting like it," she said.

"Believe me, Rose, I know how terrible this is," Cal said. He met her eyes, and for once his gaze wasn't cold or bored; it wasn't self-assured; it was frightened. His mouth relaxed, and Rose saw a depth in his expression she hadn't thought possible. "Do you want me to tell you I'm afraid?" he asked. "Do you want me to be upset? I can't do that. They'd like to see me afraid." His mouth hardened again. "My reactions are one thing I can still control, in spite of everything."

"And I know how important control is to you," Rose said. "It ranks alongside money."

"What?"

She drew her knees up to her chin and hugged her legs. "It doesn't matter."

"You said it for a reason."

"Eat your breakfast," she said.

Cal studied her closely. Never had she spoken to him in such a manner. Never had they spoken to each other in such a manner. She was almost a different person. Where was the well-behaved girl he was supposed to marry? Sure, Rose had her little whims; she had her comments, but this was different. Cal always felt like she was testing him, like she was trying to see how far she could go before he stopped her. It was amusing, most of the time. He liked her spirit, in small doses, of course. If she were too well-behaved it wouldn't be any fun at all. Passion lived within Rose's heart; it burned as brightly as her curls. Cal was sure if he could just find a way to bring it out more, if he could just make some of it burn for him, their lives would be perfect.

Whatever was happening between them now was not at all what he had in mind.

"Are you sure you don't want mine?" he asked.

"You should eat it."

Cal looked down at the cold, lumpy oatmeal. His hunger receded as his stomach heaved. Eating it was simply impossible. He turned to Rose. She looked so small. Her chin rested on her knees. He was filled with an overwhelming urge to protect her. It wasn't like before. It wasn't about proving himself. Cal only wanted to keep her safe; he wanted the sad, frightened look out of her eyes. The Rose he knew, the Rose he secretly loved best, wouldn't curl into herself and give up so easily.

But what could he do? She maintained a distance from him even under the best of circumstances. Now a wall appeared to have gone up between them, one that was too high to climb. Cal wondered if he was the problem, but quickly dismissed the thought. He was trying his best, wasn't he? Still, he couldn't shake the feeling someone could reach her. Somewhere was a person capable of making her smile even in the midst of all this. It just wasn't him.

"Why don't we share it?" he offered.

"You don't share," Rose said.

Cal put her spoon in the bowl. "Let's try."

"Are you serious?"

"I don't know what else to do," he said.

"That's good to hear," she said. "I mean it."

They ate quickly, without speaking.