She was waving the gun at me impatiently. Darcy passed it to me and I to her. I was trying desperately to think of anything I could do to stop her, but Darcy was trapped behind me in the narrow space and I was holding a lamp in one hand. What was more, my brain was refusing to cooperate. It seemed the only safe thing to do was comply. I held out the suitcase. She snatched the case from me. “Put down that lamp,” she commanded. I put it down. “Get in there.”

Then without warning she shoved me backward. As I lost my footing and staggered she pulled on the lever. The section of wall swung shut and we were in total darkness.

Chapter 36

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11

IN KILHENNY CASTLE.

Darcy flung himself at the section of wall but it was too late. It had snapped shut. We felt around desperately trying to find a latch on our side but the wood appeared to be smooth. If there was a secret way to open the door from the inside, we couldn’t find it.

“I wonder how thick that wood is and whether we can kick our way out,” he said. He tried, then muttered a curse. “There’s not enough room to exert any force. And I can’t straighten my leg.”

“We’ll be all right, won’t we?” I tried to sound more confident than I felt. “Your father and the princess will be back and come looking for us.”

“How would they ever think of looking for us here?” I heard the tension in his voice. “And if they were in this room would they necessarily find the lever that opened the wall?”

“We’d hear them coming and shout,” I said.

“If we haven’t passed out from lack of oxygen by then,” Darcy said. That hadn’t occurred to me before. We were essentially sealed into a small space. We’d use up the air supply quickly.

“Could we climb on those boxes and see if we can punch our way out through the ceiling?” I asked.

“Good idea.”

We fumbled around in total darkness and I heard Darcy’s ragged breath as he hauled himself up. Then he said, “It’s no use. I can’t reach the ceiling. It was pretty high in this room.”

He slithered down again.

“There must be some way . . .” I began but I couldn’t think of one. “I love you, Darcy,” I whispered. “If I’ve got to die, I’m glad it’s with you.”

He slipped an arm around me. “I wonder why I don’t find that a comforting thought,” he whispered. I rested my head against him, feeling his cheek against mine, and the realization struck me that I might now never know what it was like to be made love to by him. Such a waste. All those times I’d stopped him. And now . . .