Muhuwahahahaha...evil of me to stop where I did, wasn't it? But in atonement I am ending your troubles now itself, within the same day. See, I am a good girl. The camera zooms in on one Rachel Warren once again!
CHAPTER 11
A cool hand on her forehead was the first thing she could feel. With an inaudible sigh, she leant more into the soothing fingers. Slowly, she became conscious of a low voice frantically calling someone named Miss Warren over and over again. Just as it was becoming really annoying and she was about to tell the voice to desist so that she could sleep some more in peace, she recalled herself with a start. "I know that name. Oh, it’s me!" she realized sheepishly.
She didn't want to open her eyes; she was feeling very comfortable just then, and subconsciously knew that this feeling won't last once she awoke properly; but the Voice was very persistent. With a low groan, Rachel tentatively blinked her eyes open.
The darkness was the first thing that she noticed. It took her a while to adjust her eyesight properly before she could see any of the details of this room, but she knew instinctively that she had never been here before. It was dingy and bare except for the one cot on which she was currently lying. The darkness was due to the fact that there seemed to be no ventilation in the room - the one window was shuttered tight and the door appeared to be closed as well. Finally, her questing glance found the person so anxious to wake her up.
It was Andrew Fairfax. He was holding her hand now, rubbing it as he strove to keep his voice decibel to a minimum. He appeared half-crazed with concern, his hair mussed up, dark circles under his eyes and clothes crumpled as if he had slept in them last night. Last night, hmm? So today must be the next day, she thought haphazardly. By the way, what day is it? Have I been unconscious for long? I remember a journey...to ...to London, of course! We stopped for some reason and...
A hand! she remembered triumphantly. A hand hit my head hard. But what happened to Andrew? He was there as well. Did he bring me here? What happened?
He is here now; another, calmer voice interjected in her head, stopping her rising panic. Why don't you ask him yourself?
By now Andrew had become aware that Rachel had regained consciousness. A look of stark relief crossed his visage and his grip on her hand tightened momentarily, before he closed his eyes and managed to rein in his emotions.
"Thank the heavens, you are safe!" he ejaculated. "I could never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you. Can you move your head?" When she complied obediently, he smiled with approval and waited expectantly for a minute. Then he frowned slightly. "Please say something. Are you hurt?"
"No," Rachel replied thoughtfully, after taking a mental inventory of all her faculties. She was disheveled to an embarrassing degree, she seemed to have lost her bonnet and gloves somewhere and she was feeling extremely ravenous; but otherwise, her body was relatively unharmed. Her head, of course, was another matter. "Not hurt, at least not much. But I am awfully nonplussed. Who would want to attack me? And is this..." her breathing spiked on realizing her circumstances, "am I being kept prisoner? What is going on, Andrew?"
His eyes flickered at the unintentional use of his given name, but he did not call attention to it. Instead, he set about to calm her fears. "Shhh, it's alright. Yes, you were kidnapped and you are a prisoner here. But I have come to rescue you now. Let us escape from here first, and then I will explain everything to the best of my ability. Your kidnappers might be along any moment. Can you stand up?"
Half guiding and half supporting her, he led her to the door where, by the dint of a twisted hairpin, he had earlier picked the lock. Taking her hand and bidding her to lie low, he maneuvered them both into the corridor outside. Rachel could hear voices in the distance, and it was evident from Andrew's tense features that he was well aware of them too. "Keep your ears open for any suspicious sounds, your eyes peeled and your mouth shut," he whispered edgily in her ear, sending involuntary shivers down her back. "The slightest mistake might be our undoing."
The house was large and draughty, and felt like it had not been lived in for long. The rooms they encountered on their way down were largely empty, swathed in protective sheets and covered in dust. It was a world of grey and brown, and succeeded in depressing her further. At least, it did not provide any distraction and she could easily concentrate on her steps - a very good thing, since she was starting to feel quite definitely woozy in the head.
Rachel and Andrew had a bad moment when they were about to enter a room and heard voices from inside. He clutched her hand and pulled her away from the open door, and they both scuttled away quietly on a detour down another corridor. Ducking at every sound and crouching in dark corners, they finally managed to make their way down the stairs to the main door; but that avenue was cut off by the presence of someone whom Rachel recognized with a pang of surprise - Hargrove himself, standing guard.
Without breaking their stride, Andrew changed their direction so that they soon found themselves before the cavernous and old-fashioned kitchen. A door leading to a kitchen garden was mercifully open, but an additional problem was posed by a giant of a man who was baking bread conscientiously -and seemed ready to stand by the stove for hours.
And something told Rachel that they didn't have hours before someone noticed her absence from her prison.
Xxxxx
They waited for what seemed like endless moments in this vacillating manner, unable to even converse out of fear of being overheard by the cook; but their patience was finally rewarded when the man started screaming.
"Sophie, Sophie! Drat that lazybones of a gal, why can't she ever be on hand to help? Ain't that what the master be paying her wages for? SOPHIE!"
When she failed to turn up, he finally went into the scullery himself, muttering incoherent grumbles and threats in a low voice. Silently blessing the indolent girl, Rachel and Andrew slipped out of the kitchen door in a rush. Andrew slowed his sprint for a split second to grab a loaf of bread from the pile kept on a laden table nearby, before continuing behind Rachel again.
Once beyond the door, they found themselves in a neglected little vegetable garden with a high wall running around it - effectively blocking the outside world from the two escapees now frantically inspecting it for any avenue of flight.
Once he knew that Rachel was safe, Andrew was in his element. He reconnoitered the entire area and, when it had become certain that there was no gate to the outside world and no broken sections in the wall itself, he started tugging on the vines and creepers to check if they could carry their weight. Eventually he came to a stop under a gnarled beech tree standing forlornly in a corner, and considered it for a moment. Then, before Rachel could do more than blink in surprise, he had thrust the bread into the pocket of his wrinkled coat, shimmied up the thick trunk and calculated the distance from the tree's furthermost branch to the top of the wall.
Seeming satisfied with what he saw, he dropped down to her side with a happy grin. "The top-most branch of this tree on the right side skims within a foot of the wall at one point. If you can get on the wall, I'll jump down first on to the other side and catch you safely...that is," he broke off, shooting an apologetic glance at his companion, "if you can manage the climb and the jump? I know that it is too much to ask of you in your present condition, but this is an emergency."
Rachel ruminated. She had been adept at climbing trees in her childhood, but she couldn't refute that she was definitely feeling weak, and the blow to her head was making it throb in a distracting manner. Not to mention, her modest ankle-covering gown was really not conducive to climbing trees. But she knew as well as Andrew that this was a matter of life and death - her life and death - and she did not have many choices. Propriety and giddiness would have to recede into the backdrop for the moment. Even now, excited voices could be heard from inside the house.
She smiled tremulously up at him. "In times of emergency, individual preferences have to be submerged for the greater good. And," her voice vibrated with intensity, "I trust you completely with my safety, Mr. Fairfax." So saying, she grabbed the nearest branch and struggled to pull herself up by it. Her weakened condition seemed to make this simple task extremely arduous, and she gritted her teeth against the humiliation as she put all her strength into it. Rachel could barely refrain from the urge to use her legs as freely as she used to do eight years ago, clambering everywhere with abandon. Cursed be the feminine attire!
On the verge of hoisting her skirt up to her knees as a last minute resort – decency well forgotten by now – she felt two strong hands on her waist as she was raised deftly into the branch. She could barely manage to control her blushes as she conveyed her gratitude at her savior. Throughout the climb, Andrew managed to remain behind Rachel, unobtrusively guiding her feet into the most secure footholds and giving her a lift wherever her energy flagged. Thanks to his expertise, they were both perched on the required branch within minutes, and Rachel was finally able to collect her thoughts - which had fled the moment his hands had touched her so tenderly.
How can I be thinking about such things when my life is in danger? She wondered in self-disgust. Concentrate on escaping, not your escape partner, Rachel!
However, before they could jump on to the wall, a man dashed into the garden and they instantly stilled their movements. Rachel clutched Andrew's sleeve in panic as the man started searching the undergrowth thoroughly, and came to a stop below their hiding place. Small tremors started passing over her until she started shivering with a vengeance. No, I will not be taken into captivity again, not now when escape is so near, her mind screamed.
Andrew saw her imminent collapse, and did the only thing he could under the situation. He drew her closer to his body. In a trice he had enfolded her in his arms and tucked her head into his shoulder, effectively stopping her body from trembling and shielding her from looking at the searcher.
Needless to say, it worked perfectly.
The man was muttering sulkily to himself now, and suddenly raised his head. But instead of looking into the foliage of the tree overhead, he craned his neck and barked to someone inside the house, "Not a sign of them out here. As it is, they couldn't be here without passing Rogers, and he swears that he saw no one come into the kitchen." After a pause, he added in a whiny tone, "What earthly use would coming here be, anyway? There is no way out."
An angry shout came from inside. "Well then, stop shooting off that foul mouth of yer and come inside to help Sanderman search. She can't have gone far with the nice head bump, nor he with all the kicking ye did; and they with no food since yesterday. It shan't be too difficult to find 'em; they're sure to be in the house, cowering someplace. Come inside now and make yerself useful, ye great lubber!"
The man standing under their tree finally moved back into the house, though the two hiding above his head could distinctly hear him grumble, "But they shouldn't have escaped from locked doors either in that state, should they?"
Xxxxx
Andrew gently disengaged his arm from Rachel's grip as soon as the searcher had removed himself and, with a last smile of comradeship and support, swung himself towards the wall. He reached it in one smooth move and after bracing himself, he beckoned her over. But now without Andrew's comforting presence at her side, Rachel started seriously doubting her ability to make the transition from tree to wall by herself. "I don't think I can do this, Mr. Fairfax!" She whispered frantically. "What if I cannot reach the wall and fall down? It is a high tree! Or I might not be able to judge the distance and lose my balance..."
Andrew looked into her eyes with his deep green ones. "You are a brave girl, Rachel Warren. You will not fall. Come to me now." He extended a hand to her.
Of course, she knew subconsciously that he will never be able to catch her if she really fell, he was too far off. And yet, the beckoning hand seemed mesmeric. It infused her with courage. Gritting her teeth, she loosened her grip and shot from the branch with an ungainly but sure movement, before grasping at the cracks in the rapidly approaching bricks to slow her speed.
The next moment, she found herself sitting beside Andrew and desperately trying to gulp in air as he murmured encouragements and congratulations into her ears. As soon as her racing heart slowed down, he jumped down ten feet on the other side, landing with a grace which made Rachel blush for her own displays of clumsiness. But now was not the time to ruminate on the spectacle she had made of herself before her object of admiration, as said object of admiration was even now spreading his arms to catch her as she jumped down. No more foolishness, she told herself firmly as she executed a perfect swallow dive and landed in the awaiting embrace.
Sadly enough, it felt like coming home.
--xx--xx--
AN: So what could be behind this kidnapping? WHO could be behind this kidnapping? Will Rachel and Andrew be able to escape, or will they be caught again? Will Andrew stay by Rachel's side? ;-) The Grand Escape commences...