Page 77 of A Rare Find

She could hear the sincerity in their voice.

“The laughing was a kind of fit that came over us. It had less to do with you than our surprise at discovering a witness to our foolery. You ran off before I could say anything. I couldn’t chase you down the stairs without giving us all away. So, I let you go.”

She opened her eyes and had the strange sensation that she was meeting theirs through the darkness. “That’s your comical secret? I wasn’t your quarry, but rather bawdy pamphlets?”

She could tell they were shaking their head.

“No,” they said. “I mean, yes, but that’s not why I brought it up. I thought of Mrs. Pattinson’s for another reason. A more general reason. That is—” They hesitated. “The reason of my own general condition.”

“Your own…” Her voice trailed away as her throat constricted.

“I wanted to kiss you,” they said, “then, there, in the window seat. I wanted to make you forget your book, and remember me, when I was away in London. As I remembered you.”

The cave was silent.

“For I did remember you,” they said. “Always.”

She felt shaky and sank down slowly, sitting on her heels. Georgie Redmayne, remembering her, in London, remembering her, as they cavorted in the parks, spun around the ballrooms, spouted on the stage, every movement followed by eager eyes. Remembering that night at Mrs. Pattinson’s, with longing.

Her restless hand brushed something hard, and she started. It was only the lantern.

Only the lantern.

She snatched it up with a cry.

Georgie was the one who snapped the door from its hinges and broke the rest apart, smashing and flattening, until Elf had something like enough to the blade of a shovel.

Even so, the digging was miserable. Slow. Laborious. There was no way to get leverage. She had to rely on her wrists, which burned like fire.

When she finally broke through, she couldn’t force herself forward. Her joints had locked, and her hands and feet felt like foreign objects. They didn’t obey her commands. Georgie ended up propelling her from behind.

She emerged from the cave coughing, on her belly. She came up on her knees, swaying, too stunned, for those first few ragged breaths, to think. The world was almost as dark above as below. Rain lashed, and thunder shook the trees. The pit was a pond, surface boiling.

Georgie tried to tug her to standing, but she slipped and brought them down on top of her. Their weight knocked the air from her lungs. She was on her back in sucking mud, liquid seeping up around her, face burrowed into their neck. Their body was solid and hot, covering hers completely. Their body was absorbing the rain. It was absorbing the thunder. She could hear the low rumble in their chest. A long moment passed before she realized they were laughing.

“Move.” She wiggled beneath them, parting their legs with her thigh, bucking her hips. Their laughter hitched, and they pushed up, hands plunged in the mud. They gazed at her, rain dripping from their hair.

The leaden sky flashed.

Their eyes were the only color. Storm-lit blue against all the streaming dark. Dancing with mirth and mayhem.

“Elf,” they began, and wobbled. Suddenly, they were on top of her again.

“Sorry.” Their smile burned into her cheek. “Moving is more difficult than I remember.”

Her heart thumped in her ears. “You’re heavy as a horse.”

“Maybe that’s why. I definitely can’t carry a horse.”

“I can assist you.”

She couldn’t. She was pinned. Georgie touched her along every inch. Her brief struggle pressed her even more snugly against them, creating delicious licks of friction, speeding her pulse.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Their head raised a fraction.

“Generally?” she asked, but the thunder rolled, and she had to slide her mouth toward their ear. “In general?”

They laughed, shaking their head, flinging more droplets. Lightning arced across the sky, and she gasped. It drew their eyes to her lips.