The last stem snapped. “There. I shall place you outside in a shady spot so you can find your family.”
Once picked up, it curled up in her hand, making a small prickly ball. Dawn tried to turn around in the awkward space without squashing the baby hedgehog in her grasp. A flash of white brushed past outside, like a sheet that had come loose from the washing line or the billowing of a nightgown. Then a slam reverberated along the frame as the open section fell shut.
“Blast! A gust of wind has knocked out the stick.” With hedgehog held in front, Dawn crawled back to the end. Her bare palm scraped on the stone-like earth. At the end of the pit, she pushed on the glass with her shoulder but it didn’t budge. She frowned. This section had opened to admit her, and it should give as she pressed against it. She tried again, using the larger area of her back to press against the glass, but it refused to shift.
Dawn crouched down and banged on the glass, but then remembered the lads had all gone to lunch. She hunched over the baby hedgehog in the low space as she considered her options. She had to get out. Already her breath came in short, hot gasps. With the lid shut, there didn’t seem to be any fresh air within the pit. An overwhelming earthy odour worked its way up her nostrils and down her throat. One dry cough was soon followed by another.
Dawn banged on the lid again. “Hello! Is anyone out there? The lid is stuck.”
A muffled woof came in response.
Could Mouse be useful? “Mouse, I’m stuck! You need to fetch help.”
Each time she coughed, it seemed harder to draw an inward breath. Seconds ticked into minutes in the hot and cramped space. Soon she was gasping. Sweat ran down between her shoulder blades and pooled under her armpits. Her bangs on the pane weakened. She felt around, looking for a stone in the soil or something sharp to smash the pane.
She had taken off the leather belt that held her secateurs and left it on the grass, or she could have used their metal points. Her attention caught on the hedgehog still curled up in her palm. No, she couldn’t use the creature to hammer at the glass. Her fingers scrabbled in the dead weeds but came up empty. Perhaps there might be a loose brick? She pulled at the side, searching for any chink in the mortar. Every time a gasp caught in her chest, she tapped on the glass.
“Hello. I’m in here.” Moisture was sucked from her throat by the unrelenting sun outside that beat down on the glass roof of her prison, and the words struggled to rasp over her tongue. She whispered the last syllable.
She closed her eyes as her heart beat erratically in her chest. The press of hot, stagnant air was too much. One hand went to her breastbone, trying to reassure her frantic body they would be all right. Mouse would do something. If he failed, the men would come back from lunch and find her. Or would they if she collapsed? They might presume she had gone for a walk because there was no external clue that she was trapped in the pit.
Her employer would not be impressed. Again. Assuming she survived, the earl would fire her. What use was a gardener who couldn’t get out of a pineapple pit? What an ignominious way to perish.
Once more she tried to push her way out, her shoulder smushed against the dirty glass.
Then there was nothing except the sweet smell of fresh, cool air. She drew a deep gasp of freedom.
“Are you all right, Miss Uxbridge?” a familiar voice asked.
Master Elijah held open the frame and looked down on her with a worried look so like his uncle’s. The wolfhound stood next to him and snuffled his face into the pit.
She didn’t have the strength to stand just yet but held up the small creature nestled in her palm. Mouse gave a short bark at the ball shaped creature. “I climbed in to rescue a hedgehog and the frame must have blown shut in the wind.”
Elijah frowned. “The pin was through the latch.”
He must be mistaken. She remembered putting the pin on the ground so she could find it again later. There was no way it could jump up into the latch.
The youth held out a hand. “Lucky that Mouse raised the alarm. I was reading outside on the lawn, and he was most insistent I follow him.”
Dawn patted his furry face with her free hand, and his shaggy tail wagged back and forth. “Clever boy, thank you.”
“Let’s get you out of there and into the shade.” Elijah took her hand.
He pulled her up and steadied her balance as she climbed out of the pit, made more difficult by her long skirts getting in the way. The raven on the wall watched as she tried to lift her skirt without revealing her ankles to the lad or squashing the creature in her hand. She scowled up at the watcher. If the bird spied on her constantly, why hadn’t it fetched help?
They walked over to a shady spot under the fruit trees, where Dawn held out the prickly bundle to the young man. “Would you mind setting him free under a bush, please? He needs to find his family.”
Then she dropped down on the grass and leaned against the trunk of an apple tree.
Elijah carried the hedgehog to a row of currants and placed the creature in the dappled shade. Then he stopped by the barrel to collect a cup of water.
“Thank you,” Dawn murmured. She took the tin cup and drank the cool water.
The old oak door in the wall banged open, and Lord Seton hurried across the gravel paths. He wore no jacket, just a buttoned waist coat over his cream linen shirt. “Are you all right? What happened?”
How did he hear so quickly? Who could have told him when Elijah still stood in front of her? Mouse sat on the ground next to her, but the raven continued to watch. The bird stared at the earl. Lord Seton glanced up at the bird and then returned to his inspection of her.
Dawn was feeling rather embarrassed about all the attention, and she kept compounding her mistakes by running into the earl just as she looked at her worse. He would think her a silly woman not up to the task of restoring the grounds. “I am quite fine, thank you, just rather dry. I climbed into the pineapple pit to rescue a hedgehog, and the wind slammed the frame shut on me.”
“A hedgehog?” The perennial frown returned to the earl’s forehead.
“Yes. Its foot was caught in a tangle of weeds. I couldn’t leave the poor thing to die.” She now had an inkling of what a horrid way it would have been to expire. Doubly so for the nocturnal hedgehog.
“You climbed through the pit?” His gaze narrowed as he glanced back at the row of murky glass panes.
“There was no alternative. The end pane wouldn’t open.” She definitely sounded like a foolish woman. Perhaps he didn’t understand the worth of the humble hedgehog. “Hedgehogs are very important in a garden, my lord. They eat slugs and snails.”
A dark brow arched, and he made a humphf in the back of his throat. Then he extended a hand to her. “Perhaps you should come up to the house to rest for a bit.”
Dawn bit the inside of her lip. Not a helping hand again! He really must think her weak and helpless. After a moment of hesitation, she placed her hand in his. The wriggly tendril of vine appeared from her palm and slid over his, wrapping around his wrist and then looping back to hers. The plant tightened around their clasped hands. She glanced at Lord Seton’s face. He showed no reaction or indication that he too saw the vine. She must be hallucinating with a touch of heat stroke.
The earl easily pulled her to her feet and handed off the tin cup to his nephew. Lord Seton kept Dawn close as they strolled toward the house, one hand hovering by the small of her back to guide her way, but not touching her.
She cast around for a topic of conversation to distract herself. His presence was like being shadowed by a dark cloud that hung over her and made her want to dart inside before the weather broke. Disapproval, probably of her sex and pathetic gardening attempts, rolled off him.