“It could have been me the last time I was here. But that was months ago.” Edward stared at the broken webs.
“Aye, and winter is a time when the spiders come inside.” Alasdair walked downwards into the hall.
“Edward.” The urgency in Celine’s voice was palpable. He turned, to find that his head on a level with hers. She looked at him with wide eyes. What if she still hadn’t put it all together?
He put out a hand and stroked at her cheek with his thumb. She stared at him, her lips parted. In the dim light of the staircase, he could feel his heart thumping in his ears. Mr. Fiske never used to feel like this. Mr. Fiske hadn’t allowed himself to feel like this. It was as if the magnetic position of the castle had drawn into the very essence of Edward and turned him inside out. “We need to leave the castle.”
Celine blinked. “Pardon?”
Edward dropped his hand to his side, clenching his traitorous thumb into his fist. “It seems there is an urgency to our situation that I keep forgetting.”
“Edward, I think there is more we aren’t understanding. Before I followed you to this room, Lord Colthaven was in and out of his own room. He went into the room opposite his. I don’t know what is in there. I don’t even know if he saw you too. Could he…could he have been searching for something?” She pointed at the broken cobwebs. “Alasdair said he left with a bag.”
“It could have just been the things that he brought with him. The room opposite his is just another guest room.”
“Oh.” Disappointment sounded in Celine’s voice.
“Go back to bed. Try and get some rest. The plan is the same as before. Wait for a signal, and then leave the castle.” Edward turned on a heel and ran down the rest of the stairs before he could turn and kiss her.
He’d never worried about having a wife. To him it had seemed an impossibility, something that Mr. Fiske would never contemplate, with his ledgers and his lifestyle. But now, now that it seemed he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t turn himself back into being Mr. Fiske. And without Mr. Fiske, the absence of a wife, the absence of passion seemed extremely dull indeed.
Yet having a wife meant exposing her to his madness. The madness of Mr. Fiske and Lord Rochester. The further madness of his family disease.
He didn’t look back at Celine. He ran straight for the kitchen.
Robert waited by the kitchen fire. “Yon crazy man stepped right out without waiting for the guards. They grabbed him at once and took him away.”
“They didn’t kill him?”
“Nay, nay. They haven’t killed any of us have they?”
“I don’t doubt they’ll try once they’ve got what they’ve come for.”
“I don’t quite understand what they are here for, laddie. If they were animals I would know, just as wolves gather together to howl, or owls roost in a tree. But humans?” He gave Edward a long low look. “Humans; I don’t understand at all.”
“Me neither.” Edward shook his head.
“How is Celine?”
Edward jerked his head up surprised. “Celine? Celine can look after herself.”
“Aye, she has a strong streak that one. As strong as her mother.”
Edward stepped back. “She doesn’t have a mother.”
Robert blinked. “I could have slapped myself when I saw her. I said to myself if she isn’t the spit of Lady Randall, then I’m a gibber tailed lizard. O’ course she doesn’t look exactly like her, but often enough you don’t get a complete copy when there’s a man involved. It was when she pushed that body out of the coach when we were highwaymenned. She had that strange look in her eye that Lady Randall had when she told your father where to go.”
Edward leaned against the kitchen table. “You saw Lady Randall and my father together?”
Robert nodded. “She was expecting at the time you see. Enormous she was. Can’t believe she did the journey all the way from Herefordshire. S’ppose I should rightly have called her Lady Colthaven.”
Bloody hell. So Lady Randall had been married to Lord Colthaven, just as his grandmother had intimated.
“Your father said she was a little irrational just like all women who are expecting are. Said she had run away from Lord Colthaven because he kept beating her, and had got another woman pregnant.”
“How did she leave?”
Robert bowed his head. “That was the strange thing. Just came to me it did. A chap came to the door. Spoke excellent English, but he weren’t from England. He was very similar to those men outside. Even had a large curvy sword.”
Good god. “And father let him take her away.”
“It wasn’t a case of letting. She went voluntarily as far as I saw. She was waiting for him when he rang at the door.”
“What did she say to him? Can you remember?”
Robert frowned. “I didn’t catch much. It was only by luck that I was outside with a brace of pheasant at the time. She spoke to him in a funny language. And then—” he closed his eyes, “and then she said in English ‘I can trust you can’t I, Khaffar?’.”
Edward exhaled slowly. “My god.”
“What is it?”
“Mr. Khaffar is the man that is running after me. He’s the one that leads those guards outside. I had assumed they were waiting for him to arrive.”
“You had better get a move on because I think we’ve got more visitors coming.”
“What the—?”
“There’s lights down by Silter’s Farm. No one comes that way unless they are coming from London. And no one would be out on a night like this.”
“It could be Khaffar.”
“Or someone else,” Robert said unhurriedly. “What’s your plan, laddie?”
“We need to disrupt the soldiers and get everyone out of the castle.”
“It’ll be terrible hard to do with them right at the door and guards all around.”
“I’ll deal with the guards. We’ll have five minutes to get everyone out the kitchen door. I’ll set a distraction up at the front and open the door there too. Whilst they notice that, we’ll run for the coaches.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. They’ve been looking at your coach with all the books in. They’ve left it in the yard. They put Lord Colthaven in the coach to guard him.
“Probably a good thing for the man, out of the cold.”
“Aye. You never did think to put a door on the coach house.”
Edward laughed. “Sometimes I’m not sure what I was thinking at all.” He sobered. “Start everything in two hours. When you hear the shouting in the yard, get everyone out of this door.”
“How are you going to get out?”
“The same way that I got in.”
Edward tensed as he rattled the doorknob to his room. “Celine,” he called softly. “Celine, let me in.”
He didn’t hear the sound of her footsteps, but the door opened quietly after a minute. Edward stood stock-still in the corridor.
Celine wore an oversize white shirt of his. It kissed her curves, trailing over her thighs, skimming her bottom. Where before, her artful lines of kohl had given her face a knowing, luscious look, now her eyes were those of a fledgling fawn, her visage that of a fragile damsel.
Then she stamped on his foot, turned, lifted his arm over her shoulder and threw him with her hips.
He landed with a slam on the carpeted floor. And still he smiled.
For he could now see all the way up inside his shirt that so artfully adorned Celine. “Delicious,” he gasped. He wanted to lie there forever.
She stamped her foot and walked over to stand above him. “I’ve a good mind to throw you over again.”
“For you, Celine, anything.” He gasped as she bent forwards, the tips of her breasts visible through the sheerness of the shirt. She cocked her head and smiled. Delicately, slowly, she knelt on the floor, putting a hand either side of his head. He held his breath as she whispered in his ear.
<
br /> “See what you have been missing, Lord Rochester?”
He moaned as she licked a catlike tongue against his earlobe. She whispered again, “Just think, with the precision of Mr. Fiske, and the vitality of Lord Rochester, you could make me—” she gasped as he pulled her to him, grasping her knees to his, rolling her over onto her back, his body covering hers. “—you could make me sing.”
Edward’s inner voice shouted. She wants you. All of you. Both of you! He closed his eyes. “This is madness,” he groaned. “Can’t you tell I’m mad? I will always be—” He stopped speaking as Celine’s hands entwined themselves around the back of his neck. She pulled his face towards hers.
“Shut up and kiss me, Edward. Can’t you tell—” she gasped, her neck lengthening as he plundered her sweet lips with his. “—that I just don’t—” Again he took her lips in his, nibbling, biting, licking. “—care.”
Reluctantly, Edward gave her one last kiss, a tender kiss from the bottom of his soul. He scrambled to his feet, his knees weak. Crossing over to the far side of the bedroom he picked up his still damp coat. “Celine, I must go. Robert will come and get you in an hour and a half. You are to leave by the kitchen door. Make sure you take everyone with you. Make for the coach, I’ll try and get it closer to the gate.”
Celine turned on her side, the flames of the fire lighting the curves of her body. “What can I do to help?”
He took a deep breath. “Just make sure you leave the castle. I—I need you, Celine.”
Her gasp was audible. Closing his mind to her delicate charms he fiddled with the casement window and throwing his coat around himself, drew his aching body out through the ledge. Down below a flaring torch passed beneath.
“Godspeed,” Celine whispered behind him as he slid down the side of the castle. He nodded in the darkness.
Going down was faster than going up. Within seconds he was flying across the ice, not bothering to keep a low profile, as speed was of the essence. He veered through the ruffled snow where he had curved around the icy break in the pond, and climbed up the bank to the other side.
This time a shout did ring out. One of the guards raised his torch high as he stumbled across the disturbed snow where Edward had plunged down into the ice covered field. Edward watched heart in his mouth as the guard swung his torch from side to side.
A dim light appeared at his bedroom window. Edward gulped as the silhouette of a woman appeared, backlit by a low burning flame. She turned and arched, before putting her hands down to her chest.
Reluctantly he drew his stare away and glanced down at the guard that had stopped turning with his torch. Instead the guard gazed up at the bedroom window. Edward glanced upwards again and swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. For the woman, who else but Celine, had now pulled the shirt down to her shoulders and arched her back, thrusting out the shadow of her chest.
He couldn’t see her features, could barely see her body, but he could remember it intimately. And just as he knew the guard was doing, his imagination amply supplied the rest. He groaned as she flicked out her hair, her hand moving to her belly.
Good god. He was wasting time. And Celine was helping him. The other guard rounded the side of the building, and with a shout, ran to the other who pointed upwards. Again the second lantern swung wildly, before stopping as Celine dropped the entire shirt she had been wearing.
Edward only allowed himself one look. One look that seared onto his brain the form of her body at the window. And then he ran, sliding across the ice, soundlessly wading through the snow.
The first guard didn’t stand a chance. With a grunt Edward knocked him to the ground with his bare hands, and kicked out with his foot, catching the guard in the soft underside of his belly.
The second guard was still disorientated as Celine leaned out of the window and whistled from above. He looked down at his fallen comrade and back up at the window. Edward ducked as an object sailed out of the window and clashed against the guard’s head. It rolled to his feet and stopped.
Celine had taken out the guard with a flying chamber pot.
He looked upwards. She nodded at him, this time her body wasn’t in the shadow. Edward gasped as she smiled and stretched her arms above her head.
“Celine!” He gulped as she suddenly put her hands on the casement, causing the rest of her body to quiver.
“Quick, Edward, the first guard!” she called softly.
He glanced round, as the guard he had knocked to the floor groaned. Cursing the man’s timing he pushed a rag in his mouth and tied the man’s hands, before doing the same with the other guard.
He looked back up, but Celine had withdrawn from the window. He blinked as she returned, still naked, but with her dress in her hand. “Make sure you get everyone out.”
She nodded.
He gulped. “And make sure you are dressed.”
“Yes, Mr. Fiske,” she said laughingly.
Edward clenched his hand. Not Mr. Fiske any more. Alright. Perhaps some Fiskeness.
Wildly Edward ran, along the icy path, and straight out towards the woods again, no longer needing to trace his path across the icy field. Gasping, he dodged the tall trees, his night vision blurring at he ran faster. There it was. The old oak loomed into view, the mound of sacking in front of it screaming and wriggling still as the trapped pig inside looked to escape. Without pausing for breath he picked up the sack and turned, sliding on his heels. Grunting, he hugged the sack to himself and ran again, back towards the castle, along the way he came. It seemed like only a short time before he rejoined the guards’ habitual path. It had become icy where the guards had trodden the same track again and again without bothering to clear it properly. He slid round the curtain wall and reached the open front gate.
Without stopping to think he untied the struggling sack and tossed its contents into the courtyard.
CHAPTER 33
Celine drew quickly away from the window as Edward’s shadowy form powered along the edge of the castle walls. She shivered as the cold air caught at her skin, making her aware again of her undressed state.
Goodness. What had she been thinking? Thinking about saving Edward was what she had been doing. She clamped down on the feelings of remorse, the little devil that sat on her shoulder and whispered in her ear that Edward would never see her in the innocent way that he seemed to view her.
Quickly she pulled her dress over her head, grasping at its red silk, drawing it down to her ankles. She left her makeup bags where she had dropped them, and pulled on stockings as fast as she could. Instinctively her hands braided her hair back behind her head. She hesitated before taking just one knife. Once they made it to the coach they wouldn’t be short of firepower.
Striding out of Edward’s bedroom, she made her way straight to Dowager Lady Rochester’s room, pulling on her fur coat as she walked. The door was open, and only two candles lit the room, but already Celine could see that the three people inside were dressed.
“Come in, Celine,” Dowager Lady Rochester called softly. Celine pushed the door open slowly, to find Robert and Franklin waiting for the dowager. “We are going to find all the servants and get them out of the castle. Most of them will go across the field towards the farms. They know the way, and if there are no guards—”
“There are none. Edward has dealt with them.” Celine did not mention her show.
Dowager Lady Rochester gasped. “We must move then, before their absence is discovered.” She took in a deep breath. “Celine, could you bring down Edward’s grandmother from the attic? I—I trust you, as Edward does. You will be faster than me. And I will be more efficient at rounding up those that work for us.”
Celine nodded, but inside she shook. She hadn’t thought of the responsibility that she might hold. Make sure everyone gets out, Edward had said. She nodded again and backed out of the door, before turning on a heel and running as fast as she could to the attic stairs.
“Kathryn, La
dy Kathryn,” she shouted. “We must go. The castle is under attack.”
The door at the top of the stairs opened immediately, the slight figure of Edward’s grandmother holding on to its handle. “Leave the castle?” she said. “Certainly not.” And she shut the door again.
Celine panted up the steps, hitching up her coat and skirts as her boots tripped on the lips of the uneven wood. “Lady Kathryn, your grandson, Edward, he is outside. He is very concerned.”
“I don’t have a grandson yet, my dear. Don’t fool with me. Now go and get Lord Rochester.”
Celine swore below her breath. “Bloody hell.”
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that, young lady. Just because I agreed to hide that key for you, does not mean that I will willingly vacate this castle. I know my son would do anything for you, more fool him, but I will not.”
Oh god, she still thought Celine was Lydia.
“Lady Kathryn,” Celine paused and closed her eyes. What could she say to persuade her? “Those men are back. The ones that laughed at your son. And…and my husband is amongst them. Please, you need to help me to leave.”
“Where’s your man? I thought you were meeting him. Khaffrey-wotsit.”
“Khaffar,” Celine said softly. “He’s not here yet…he’s outside the gates and he can’t get in.”
The door opened slowly after a muttered conversation. Lady Kathryn stuck her head out. “I just need to fetch my hat. It’s cold out there.” The old woman disappeared back beyond the doorway as the maid clattered down the steps to Celine, already dressed.
She shook her head. “You can’t persuade her to do much if she doesn’t want to.” The maid grimaced. “You did well though.”
Lady Kathryn reappeared at the door, hat in hand, still without a coat. But there was no time to search for one, as soon as she stepped across the lintel, Celine hurried up the stairs and grabbed her gently beneath the arms. “Let me help you, we must hurry.”
It still took an age to negotiate the stairs. In the hall the maid jerked her head to the right.
Maddening Minx Page 24