Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) (22 page)

“Allow me, old boy,” said Arthur smoothly, as he scooped up
the case with one hand, then slung it over his shoulder.  “Shall we go?”  He
didn’t wait for a response, but simply ushered Vanessa out of the room in front
of him.

“Stop gloating,” she whispered, but couldn’t keep the grin
off her face. 

“It was his idea to take it with us,” said Arthur, shrugging. 
“How was I to know he couldn’t lift it?”

*                     *                    *

It was a slow ride to the bridge because of the rough
terrain.   There were no cottages in the area.  They passed no people or
animals.  The land had a harsh beauty which would make it all but
uninhabitable.  After two hours of riding they finally had their destination in
sight.  A gorge and river divided the surrounding countryside of gently rolling
hills.  The bridge itself was a manmade marvel two hundred feet wide and one
hundred feet high. 

Construction of the cast iron bridge had begun in 1775 and
was completed four years later when the golden spike was hammered into one of
the support beams ten feet from the top.  At the time, the project had been
looked upon as the folly of its proponents.  The cost to build it had been
high, both monetarily and in terms of human life.  Even now, people died every
year after falling from the bridge, either purposely at their own hands or
through tragic accidents.

According to Willingham’s instructions, the golden stake was
wedged into one of the supports in an area that was so inaccessible it deterred
all attempts of theft. 

“Is the stake needed structurally?” asked Vanessa, as they
sat on their horses to one side of the bridge.

“If you’re asking if the support will collapse, then no it
won’t,” said Arthur, “but it won’t be easy to retrieve.  I’ve been studying
these maps, looking for the best access point and it doesn’t look good.  From
what I can tell, the only way to get there would be to lower oneself down by
rope from the bridge, then climb on a support beam, and from there go from beam
to beam until you reach the spike, which is on one of the inner beams.  It will
likely take a fair amount of struggle to remove it.  Then, of course, you have
to reverse the process to be pulled back up.”

“Then it makes the most sense for me to be the one to get
the spike,” said Vanessa.

“The devil it does!” said Arthur.

“But I am the lightest of the three of us.  I also have a
better chance of maneuvering through the various beams, given my size.  And you
could hardly expect Sir Lawrence and me to pull you up.”

“I do have a rather bad back,” said Sir Lawrence.

“It didn’t look that bad when you were exercising this
morning,” said Arthur.

“It comes and goes.”     

“Would it prevent you from climbing down the bridge?” asked
Arthur.  “I’m certain I could pull you up.”

“While there is nothing I’d like more than the adventure of
hanging off that bridge, I have a bit of a problem with dizziness,” said Sir
Lawrence.  “’Nessa is the logical choice.”

“Vanessa will do no such thing,” said Arthur, as he dismounted
and tied off his horse.  “I will retrieve the spike.  And, if need be, I can
climb up on my own.”

“Arthur, I cannot let you do this….” began Vanessa.  But her
words were cut off by a kiss, as Arthur grabbed her and lowered his mouth to
hers.  He tried to keep it light, but he was starving.  And, judging by her
response, so was she.

“Now see here, Kellington,” objected Sir Lawrence.

“Stow it!” said Arthur, before kissing Vanessa once more. 
Then he turned from her and, with Sir Lawrence’s help, began putting on the
leather harnesses and ropes.

“Have you ever done this before?” asked Vanessa worriedly.

“Kissed a woman?  Once or twice.”  He gave her his crooked
grin again.

“Have you ever dangled off a bridge?” she said, unable to
hide her fear.

“No.  But one summer my family went climbing in Wales and I
was shown how to use a contraption like this.  The harness attaches to me then
we run a series of ropes through it.”  He indicated a series of small iron
rings scattered across the harness.  “The ropes run through the rings with a
series of pulleys, so it requires less strength than you would think.”

“So, I could do it,” said Vanessa, as Sir Lawrence finished
cinching the harness in a series of criss-crossing straps across Arthur’s back.

“I have no doubt you could do anything, love.  But why not
give me the chance to look heroic?”

“You already are heroic,” she said quietly.  “There’s no need
to appear to be more so.”

He almost kissed her again, but the sooner he began his
descent, the quicker he’d be done.  The three of them walked to the middle of
the bridge, then checked the map to pinpoint the support which contained the
spike.  It was slightly further across the bridge than the middle.

Arthur took a deep breath.  He was not fond of heights. 
While he’d learned about the harness in Wales, he hadn’t actually used one,
since he’d been too frightened to make the climb.  Ned had been the daredevil
that day.  There was only one thing which would make Arthur climb down that
bridge, and it was to prevent Vanessa from doing it.

He checked the ropes that Sir Lawrence had tied to the
bridge.  Vanessa re-checked them.

The rope was strong, the type used in sailing and the knots
were secure.  There was really only one thing for it now.  He stepped over the
rail, looked Vanessa in the eyes, then slowly lowered himself down off the
edge.

Just as he was about to disappear, Vanessa said, “Please be
careful.  I could not live with myself if you were injured.”

He looked up and smiled at her.  “I know exactly how you
feel, sweetheart.”

“Do have a care, old chap,” Sir Lawrence called after him.  “I
don’t fancy having to make the same trip if something goes wrong, although we
would probably learn from our mistakes.”

“I’ll keep your comfort and safety foremost in mind,” said
Arthur, as he continued his descent, doing this best not to look down. He
thanked God he’d had the presence of mind to write the letter to Liam that he’d
placed in Vanessa’s valise.  If he should perish on this task, he wanted his
brothers and sister to know exactly why he’d done it.  Not that he totally
understood himself.  He hoped one day they would laugh about how foolhardy he’d
been.  He only prayed he’d be there when they did.

As he slowly descended, he kept his eyes on the approaching
beam.   He thought he’d had nerves of steel during the many high stakes card
games he’d been in.  But nothing had quite prepared him for this.  He kept his
mind on each step of what he had to do.  Failure was not an option and he
certainly didn’t want to do this a second time.  

When the beam was but a foot away from him, he carefully
swung over to grasp it.  The very solidity of the support gave him courage, as
he stopped first to draw breath, then to attach the harness to the support bars
Willingham’s map had told him would be there.  Once he’d hooked himself
securely onto the beam, he unhooked himself from the rope which had lowered him
from the bridge.  He gave it three sharp tugs, letting Vanessa know he’d made
it safely to the first beam.

The beam itself was wide.  He hugged it with his body as he
climbed to the other side of it.  Two other beams stood between him and the one
with the stake.  There was enough slack in his rope to allow him to jump from
one beam to the next.  But if he jumped and missed, he would fall between them
into open space.  He’d been told his rope would hold, but he wasn’t anxious to
test the theory.

He paused for a moment to look from his beam to the next. 
It was only about a three-foot gap, but from this height it seemed endless.  He
took a breath, jumped, then cleared the gap easily.

After hooking his harness to that beam, he repeated the
process two more times until he reached the support with the spike.  It took
him a moment to find it because of the dirt and grime that obscured the gold.  Suddenly,
he heard a shriek which almost unbalanced him.  It had come from a nearby
hawk’s nest where the mama bird was eyeing him warily.

Schooling his movements carefully so as not to frighten the
bird further, Arthur took out his tools and began to unwedge the spike from its
slot.  It was slow-going work.  Whoever had pounded it in had certainly meant
for his work to last a lifetime.  But, with one last strike of his chisel, the
spike dropped into Arthur’s hand.  A moment later, the father hawk strafed him
for coming a bit too close to his family.  Arthur was startled and fell back,
barely catching hold of the beam with one hand but, fortunately, holding on to
the spike with the other.

After uttering a quick prayer of thanks to God, then a few
choice words to the hawk deriding the bird’s parentage, Arthur reversed course
and began swinging from one beam to another.

When he reached the last beam, he yanked on the rope two
times to let them know he was about to ascend.  He waited for Vanessa to answer
but nothing happened.  He tugged twice again, with the same result.

“Hello!” he called, as he looked up.  He heard no voices. 
He knew something wasn’t right.  Just as he was about to call up again, a head
came into sight from above.  It was Frederick Mortimer.

“I knew we would meet again, Kellington, but I had no idea
it would be in circumstances such as these.  How unfortunate for you.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Where is Miss Gans?” Arthur was surprised his voice was so
calm, when he was so very frightened for Vanessa. 

“She’s safe.  For the time being.  But she won’t be if you
don’t do as I say.  Do you have the spike?”

“Do you have Vanessa?”

Frederick Mortimer smiled, as if he enjoyed toying with him. 
“I told you she was safe, didn’t I?”

“I want to see her.”

“If you’re not careful with your demands, you’ll see her
falling off the bridge.”  He turned back and barked out an order, then pulled
Vanessa to the side of the bridge so Arthur could see her.  She was obviously
angry, but appeared unharmed. 

Arthur’s relief was immense.  He was glad she’d lost none of
her spirit, but he couldn’t let Frederick Mortimer see his feelings for Vanessa
or he’d use them against him.   “Where’s Sir Lawrence?”

“That boor?” asked Mortimer.  “He’s also here.  The lovely
Portia is holding a gun to his head.   I have a deal for you, Kellington.  Give
me the spike and I’ll let them go unharmed.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“As well you shouldn’t.  I’m not known for my leniency. 
But, you see, I have a certain soft spot for our girl, here.  It goes back to
when she first came to work for me.  She told you about that, didn’t she?”

Arthur hoped his surprise didn’t show.

Mortimer tsked.  “For a man who spends so much time at the
gaming tables, I would have imagined you’d have more skill at masking your
emotions.  Needless to say, she did not inform you of our love affair.”

Even from that distance, Arthur heard Vanessa’s cry of distress. 
He wanted to tell her none of it mattered.  He was concerned only for her
safety.  Nothing he could learn about her past would ever affect the admiration
and respect he had for her.  Nothing could dampen the feelings he had for her.

“She did not mention you at all, Mortimer,” said Arthur. 
There was a flash of emotion across Mortimer’s face, telling Arthur he’d scored
a direct hit.  But then he cursed his unruly tongue.  The last thing he wanted
was to have Mortimer take out his anger on Vanessa.

“Give me the stake,” said Mortimer, his voice now devoid of
emotion.

“Don’t do it, Arthur!” cried Vanessa.

Arthur didn’t give a damn about the stake.  He’d gladly give
it up if only Mortimer would leave Vanessa alone.  He would give more than the
stake.  “I’ll give you the stake if you let them go.”

“Then come up here and hand it over.”

“Don’t do it, Arthur,” said Vanessa.  “He’ll cut your rope.”

Mortimer yanked her away from the edge.  “You don’t have a
choice, Kellington.  If you don’t bring me the stake, I’ll throw her off the
bridge, followed by Sir Lawrence.”

There was no guarantee Mortimer wouldn’t still hurt Vanessa
and Sir Lawrence, even if Arthur handed over the stake.  The only way to make
sure they’d stay alive would be to prolong their use as hostages.  So Arthur did
the one thing to drag things out.  Still secured to the beam, he cut the rope
to the top of the bridge.

Mortimer’s surprise was almost comical.  Whatever he’d been
expecting, it hadn’t been that.  Arthur wasn’t looking forward to making his
way down to the ground far, far below, without the safety rope.  But he would
do what was necessary to keep Vanessa safe. 

“Mortimer,” called Arthur, as he looked up at the man one
last time, “you can have the spike at the bottom, as long as Vanessa and Sir
Lawrence are unharmed.  If you hurt either of them, I’ll throw the spike into
the river and you’ll never get it.”

Mortimer looked most unhappy at the latest turn of events. 
“What if you don’t make it down alive?”

“Then I hope you shall make the same journey to retrieve it
yourself.”  With that, Arthur began his descent. 

It was hard, slow-going work.    He had just enough rope to
secure himself to the iron rings, but he was also very conscious of the time. 
He had to beat Mortimer and Cassidy to the bottom and that would not be
possible if were too cautious.  He gained confidence the more he descended and
there were times when he made short jumps without securing his harness.  He
also kept up a steady stream of prayer, making note that he would never again
ask for luck at the tables if he managed to pull this off without getting
anyone killed.

Some of the wooden supports had rotted through due to
exposure to the elements.  Twice he broke through the wood, only to find
himself hanging by a hand.  The rope was becoming increasingly frayed, so even
that was not of much use.   It took over an hour to reach the final support
beams, which were several dozen feet off the ground.  From there, he planned to
lower himself by the rope to the footholds which would allow him to climb
down.  But just as he was almost within reach, the rope snapped.  He reached
out and barely caught one of the footholds by the hand.  He slammed into the
pole and just about tore his shoulder out of the socket, but he was safe.  For
now.