"Yes, my lord. Is madam all right?"

"She will be fine. But do not leave her side until I return."

"Yes, my lord."

Gabriel went quickly down the stairs. He found Rollins hovering in the main hall.

"Is madam all right now?" Rollins asked anxiously.

"Yes. Bring Alice the housemaid to me at once."

Rollins looked uncertain. "Alice?"

"Blonde, rather pretty, and rather old to still be in her position."

"I do not believe we have an Alice on staff, my lord. But I shall check with Mrs. Crimpton."

"Do that. I shall be at the foot of the steps that lead down into the catacombs."

"Yes, my lord."

Gabriel collected a candle from the library and walked to the far end of the great hall. He descended the narrow, twisting stairs and stopped short when he saw that the heavy door at the bottom was locked.

Ten minutes later Rollins returned. His face was very sober. "There is no housemaid named Alice, sir."

Gabriel felt another chill run through him. "There was a woman in this house today who claimed her name was Alice and that she worked here."

"I regret to say, sir, that I do not know of her. May I ask why you are looking for her?"

"Never mind. I am going into the catacombs." Gabriel took the key down from the wall hook.

"Perhaps I should accompany you, sir."

"No, Rollins. I would rather you stayed up here and kept an eye on things."

Rollins drew himself up. "Yes, my lord."

Gabriel opened the heavy door and stepped into the dark stone passageway. The candlelight revealed two sets of footsteps in the dust on the floor. Someone had definitely accompanied Phoebe into this tunnel. Someone who had claimed her name was Alice.

Gabriel strode swiftly along the passage, following the footsteps. When he saw the iron gate blocking his path up ahead, he set his back teeth. The thought of Phoebe being trapped on the other side and obliged to risk her life swimming to freedom enraged him anew.

He forced his anger back under control and reached down into his boot for the knife he always carried there. He seemed to have need of it rather frequently since meeting Phoebe.

Gabriel inserted the tip of the blade between two stones in the wall and tripped the hidden lever housed there. A moment later a secret panel in the wall opened up to reveal the mechanism that operated the gate. The gate itself was opened and closed by pushing on certain stones in the passageway.

Gabriel studied the ancient pulley arrangement. The wheels and chains were all in excellent working order. He, himself, had spent hours down here tinkering with the machine after he had discovered the secret of the gate.

He had taken great satisfaction in getting the old mechanism functioning again. He had even been inspired to insert a similar hidden mechanism into A Reckless Venture. It was a pity his mysterious editor and publisher had not had an opportunity to read his latest manuscript. She might have recognized the device and remembered the secret.

Gabriel had taken pains to ensure that all the members of his staff knew how to open and close the gate. Although he had given orders that no one was to explore the passageways without him, he'd had enough experience of human nature to know he could not depend on everyone following instructions. He had not wanted anyone to get accidentally trapped down here on the wrong side of the gate.

Everyone in the castle knew how the gate worked except Phoebe. The mysterious Alice could have learned the secret from a footman or a stable lad.

But why would she want to terrorize Phoebe? Gabriel wondered as he raised the gate. It made no sense.

The iron gate clanged and groaned as it slowly-slid back into position in the wall. Gabriel walked down the remainder of the passageway until he came to the hidden quay.

The sight of Phoebe's crumpled citron-colored gown and the burned-out candle sitting beside it filled him with a helpless, smoldering rage. He stared at the black water that lapped against the stone and thought about Phoebe sliding into it. He knew many stalwart men who would have been paralyzed with fear in such a situation.

His reckless lady had the courage of a valiant knight.

And he had very nearly lost her.

The water was sucking at her, trying to pull her under. A curse on he who would steal this book. May he drown beneath the waves. Phoebe swam harder, kicking out frantically in a desperate effort to avoid the darkness behind her and the black depths below. She was surrounded by an endless night. Her only hope was the slip of light up ahead. She had to reach it. But the water was tugging at her, hampering her, trying to trap her.

Just when she thought she could not swim another stroke, a man's hand reached out of the darkness. She was about to grasp it when she saw the hand of another man reaching for her. Both men promised safety. One was lying.

Phoebe knew she had to choose. If she made the wrong choice, she would die.

She came awake to the fading echo of her own scream.

"Phoebe. Wake up. Open your eyes." Gabriel's voice was harsh with command. His hands closed tightly around her shoulders. He gave her a small, impatient shake. "You're dreaming. For God's sake, woman, wake up. That's an order. Do you hear me?"

Phoebe surfaced from the last remnants of the dream. She realized she was in bed. Moonlight poured through the window. Gabriel, dressed in a black silk dressing gown, was sitting beside her. His face was stark in the pale light.

She stared mutely up at him for a second and then, without a word, burrowed into his arms.

"Bloody hell." Gabriel's arms tightened fiercely around her. "You gave me a devilish start. Kindly don't do it again. That scream was enough to wake the dead."

"I was dreaming."

"I know."

"I was back in the cavern, trying to swim toward the light. For some reason part of the curse at the end of The Lady in the Tower was going through my head. It got all mixed up with the dream."

He raised her face so that he could look down at her. "What is this about the curse?"

"Don't you remember?" She quickly blinked back the tears of fear and relief that had formed. "At the end of the The Lady in the Tower there is the usual scribe's curse. Drowning beneath the waves is part of it."

"I remember. Phoebe, it was just a dream."

"Yes, but it seemed very real."

"Given what you went through today, I have no doubt but that it did. Would you like me to send for something to help you sleep?"

"No, I'll be all right." As long as you're holding me like this, Phoebe added silently. She pressed herself against him, trying to absorb Gabriel's strength.

There was something amazingly reassuring about his size and power tonight. She remembered the way he had plucked her from the rock and carried her out of the heavy surf. The last terrors of the dream retreated back behind locked doors somewhere inside her.

"Phoebe?"

"Yes, Gabriel?"

"Do you think you can sleep now?" Gabriel's voice sounded strained.

"I don't know," she said honestly.

"It's very late. Nearly two in the morning."

"Yes."

"Phoebe …»

She wrapped her arms around his waist and turned her face into his shoulder. "Please stay here with me."

The sudden tension in him was palpable. "I don't think that's a particularly good idea, Phoebe."

"I know you are angry with me. But I really do not want to be alone."

Gabriel's hand clenched in her hair. "I am not angry with you."

"Yes, you are, and I cannot blame you. I have not been a very good wife to you thus far, have I?"

He dropped a small kiss into her hair. "You have been a very unconventional wife thus far, I'll grant that much."

Phoebe took a deep breath and hugged him more tightly. "I have been very nonsensical about the whole thing. I see that now. I am ready to be a proper wife to you, Gabriel."