CHAPTER 35
Celine stared out of the window. “Khaffar and Lord Granwich? Here together?” she said, hugging her arms to her in an attempt to stave off the cold.
“And Lord Colthaven and Pithadora.” Edward shook his head. “By god, give me a ledger and I would have been able to work all of this out straight away.”
“And then there is Lydia,” Celine said quietly. “She might not be here in person—”
“But she certainly is here in spirit.” Edward finished, putting a warm hand on her arm. “Come, we must do as Alasdair says. He’ll stop by the last hedge which marks an old field boundary. There’s a ditch behind we can hide in. We’ll disappear in the forest.” He pushed open the door to the coach once more.
Celine shivered as the cold air seeped in. “We can’t let Lord Granwich come up against Mr. Khaffar, he’s deadly!”
“I don’t think Granwich would have come up here without outriders. I expect Freddie Lassiter and Lord Anglethorpe will be somewhere around.”
“But Mr. Khaffar has all those men at the castle!”
Edward rubbed at his forehead. “Celine, I don’t think they are interested in Granwich. I think they are interested in you. Or me, but mostly you.”
“I beg your pard—” her words broke in a cry as Edward, looking out of the window and cursing, took her by the arm and pulled her out of the carriage. She gasped as the banked snow in the ditch on the side of the driveway broke her fall with a cold sigh. In the shadow of the large hedge, despite the night, it still felt even colder than when she had run around the courtyard.
“Come, Celine, quickly to your feet,” Edward urged her in a hoarse whisper.
Involuntarily her teeth began to chatter. “I’m so very, very cold.” Putting her hands out she pushed down into the snow, gasping as her hands sunk away into the drift.
“Of course!” Celine took in a sharp breath as Edward took off his coat and pulled it strongly around her shoulders. He hugged her to himself, hands rubbing her back. “Celine,” he murmured, “we need to run.”
Blearily Celine nodded. Where did he get his inner reserve of strength from to keep going? The warmth from Edward’s body heated her bones, but before she could thank him, he stepped away.
“Follow me.”
Celine clutched his coat to her shoulders, her body rubbing against the sheepskin lining as she tried to step where Edward trod ahead of her in the deep snow through the ditch. Suddenly he turned.
“Horseman,” he whispered, indicating a lowering motion with his hands. “Lie down.”
Celine crouched and turned, wincing as her ankle reminded her of its weakness.
The horseman waited at the end of the ditch from where they had come. He was a tall man. He nodded, the light of the moon glinting from his hair.
“Henry,” she breathed. The overlong blond hair fell over the unmistakable shape of his sharp nose.
Celine gasped as Edward put a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t stop you going to him, Celine.”
“No, Edward, I—”
“But hear this, no one will look after you better than I will.”
Celine turned and shivered at the reflection of the flames from the castle, flickering in Edward’s eyes. Frozen by day, burning by night—it was a metaphor built for this man. She put out a tentative hand. “Edward, I am yours.”
He laughed softly, rubbing his nose against hers. “As I am yours, just as you said when you shot Khaffar’s finger and shouted ‘He is mine’. How could I not have seen it?”
“Because you are a man?”
Edward laughed again and captured her lips with his in the softest, briefest touch. “No, because I was many men, and now, now perhaps I am just one.” He looked away over her shoulder. “We must go. Anglethorpe has gone. He did not come to us, which means it is still not safe to come out of hiding. Quickly, along the hedge again.” He pulled her to her feet. Surefooted he ran through the ditch, pulling her stumbling along behind him, before she could look back to where Henry had sat on his horse.
As they reached the forest, Edward’s shoulders visibly relaxed. The snow lay sparsely on the ground, the thick brush of the trees and the silent canopy protecting the roots and strewn twigs of the earth below.
And yet still it was cold. With little daylight able to filter through, never mind the snow, the ground was hard. Here she could walk, unaided by Edward. But still she hung onto him.
She was never going to let go.
CHAPTER 36
Edward pulled Celine into the hollow of the oak tree. She stumbled towards him silently, her lithe body colliding with his, pulling them both over onto the soft floor of the hollow. They fell, in a tangle of legs and arms, Edward cushioning their fall with his legs.
Celine’s hair fell across his face, catching him in its soft warm embrace. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her more towards him, even though there was little between them. She struggled, pulling an arm out of his coat, and brushed her hair away from his face.
Edward realized that he could see, that the light in the hollow was tinged with red, a blood red from the blaze of Rochester Castle, so bright that the light filtered through even the dense stand of fir trees.
“He’ll come after us,” Celine said, her breath brushing his cheeks. “They won’t let us get away.”
Edward stared at Celine’s face, the normally white complexion tinged pink in the light. He couldn’t stop himself. “I love you, Celine.”
Celine gazed at him. “I…You do?”
Edward sighed. “Yes I do. At least, Lord Rochester does. The Fiske part of me is nodding away and enumerating all your charms in his mental ledger.” He gulped and paused. What in the hell was he saying? He waited for Celine’s enraged response, for surely he had blown it. Never had a man run so hard after a woman. Never had a woman run so fast after a man.
“I…I’m not sure what to say.”
Slowly he let Celine go. Wriggling out from beneath her he stood and went to the opening of the hollow. “I think you are right. Mr. Khaffar will follow us.” Unhooking the twine he had left hooked over an oak branch after catching the wild pig, Edward took two paces into the forest. “We won’t be able to get away from him if he is on horseback.”
“Edward, you haven’t waited for my response.” Celine stepped out behind him into the open forest.
Edward unraveled the twine. “I don’t need to. If you don’t know what to say, then you never will. You’ll probably find another man to flaunt your behavior with.” He hooked the looped twine over a fir branch.
She stopped his jerky movements with a soft touch from her hand. “You don’t mean that.”
Edward looked down where Celine’s capable hands lay on his wrist. They exuded a soft heat which caused his heart to burn and his stomach to ache. He shook his head. “I do. If you don’t want me, if you won’t marry me then you will have to find somebody else. I don’t think I could bear to be with you and no longer have you for my own.”
“But Edward, I am the one to love you.”
Edward looked up into Celine’s dark gaze. Her eyes beseeched him, implored him. Her grasp tightened on his wrist as she continued to talk.
“Edward, I love all of you, not just the parts that are Rochester and Fiske, but the other parts that glue you together, your fears for your family, your concern for your servants.”
“You don’t think that I’m mad?”
“Mad?” Celine laughed softly. “Any madder than the person that has no reason for their actions and characteristics? Any madder than the person that has no name for the behavior they exhibit? Of course not!”
“What about my father, my grandmother?”
“Edward, Lady Kathryn said something to me before she left. Something about your father having syphilis. Barking like a dog.”
“My god! Barking like a dog, that’s where it came from!”
Celine nodded. “Edward, don’t you see?
Syphilis is something you catch, like a disease. It’s not usually something you inherit.”
“But what about my grandmother? What about…Mr. Fiske and Lord Rochester?”
Celine shook her head. “Your grandmother is old. Very old. And it does not seem like madness to me, more like chronic forgetfulness. Who knows how the body copes when we grow to such an advanced age.” She quietened. “If I can forget all the things Pithadora used to make me do, then surely it is possible for the body to forget even more?”
“Don’t you see that’s why we can’t be together? In the end I’ll forget you, your beauty, your cunning, your bravery.”
Celine prized the twine away from his fingers and pulled him towards her. She placed a hand on the underside of his jaw. “Your grandmother has had a long and happy life. Edward, we would be fortunate indeed to reach her age and still be living. And if either of us did begin to forget, then at least the other would have the comfort of memories, and a life well lived, rather than the bitterness of the chance of happiness lost.”
Edward drew in a shuddering breath. “You would take a chance on me, despite knowing everything, despite knowing what the future may hold?”
Celine tugged at the back of his head. Obligingly he dropped his head to hers. “Edward Fiske, Lord Rochester,” she said, her voice full of promise. “I would come after you guns blazing in a runaway coach if I needed to, just to be with you.”
A lump formed in Edward’s throat. “You’ve already done that.”
Celine nodded. “Exactly. And this time we are going to defeat Mr. Khaffar together.”
Edward drew in a breath. Celine’s soft cushioned lips were just inches away, ripe for the plucking. He gasped as she moved instead, her chin tilting. Softly she kissed him, hesitantly, harder. It was no courtesan-like kiss, she employed no skilled arousal of the senses, but still it hit him in the heart, a kiss full of promise, of hope. Of union.
Edward lost all sense of space and time, reveling in the feel of the soft woman beneath his fingertips. It was only when the sweet smell of pine hit him, that he drew back dazed.
He sniffed the air. Burning pine.
“He’s not trying to follow us. Khaffar is trying to burn us out.” As soon as he spoke, it was as if the forest came alive. A deer ran past them, ears back, tail up, followed by the scattered flight of a flock of pheasant. “The animals! They’re running away from the fire.”
“We should follow them.” Celine tugged at his hand. “If they think the forest is burning then we should go.” She pulled away from his hand and coughed. “The smoke is getting thicker.”
Edward looked up in astonishment. Celine was right. The smoke had crept silently along amongst the roots of the trees, an inky, swirling mist of acridity. He pulled at her hand as she picked up her skirts. “Let’s go.”
He followed the direction the animals had taken, south towards Robert’s cottage, away from the continuing blaze of the castle. Celine stumbled behind him, tugging at his hand as her skirts caught on the fallen trees they crossed.
“I can’t see, Edward,” she said calmly as she stopped on one particular log. She coughed and held her dress to her face. “The smoke is too thick. And my ankle will not hold up much longer.”
Edward gazed away from her into the milky white swirls of the smoke. “I can’t see either. But I know these woods. I’ll be able to track us to Robert’s cottage.” Pulling Celine away from the log, he put an arm around her waist and urged her forwards.
They managed another hundred coughing paces.
“How much further?” Celine asked. Her face was full of trust. Her demeanor still calm. Edward could not help but admire her fortitude. Never had he ever met such a woman who could have coped with such circumstances. But then never had he met such a woman that had matched his story stroke for stroke. Blinking he looked forward and stepped once again into the mist.
Suddenly a large stag careered out of the fog of smoke, heading directly for them. It leapt, swerving in flight, kicking out with its back legs before cantering away.
“I saw that!” Celine licked her lips. “It nearly hit me.”
Edward nodded, frozen to the spot.
“We need to carry on. Edward, you need to lead me. I’m in your hands.” Celine pushed at his waist.
“We can’t.” Edward could feel his voice cracking. How was it that every time he felt his life going forwards, certain death always waited?
“What do you mean we can’t? Edward, we need to get away from the fire.”
“We can’t,” Edward repeated. “The fire’s not just behind us. It’s in front of us.”
Celine cursed, using words that even Edward hadn’t heard before. “Then we go sideways.”
“He will have thought of that.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means that he’s set a fire around the wood, a ring around us. We are as trapped as a crab in a pot.”
“Our goose is cooked,” Celine said mournfully, “on a fire of fir.” She hiccupped and smiled at him. “We can’t just run through the flames?”
“We can try.” Edward shook his head. “But I think they will have felled some of the trees to trap us. They seem very determined to watch us burn.”
“That’s what life is about though isn’t it?” Celine nodded into the smoke. “Going forwards when you are uncertain of the outcome.”
“Yes. Onwards, my darling.”
“Edward?”
Edward glanced back at Celine. She smiled tentatively at him, tugging at her skirt which had yet again become caught.
She licked her lips. “Edward, I’ve always loved you.”
He closed his eyes as a strange disorientation flooded him, flushing out all the fear that had collected in his heart. He nodded and leaning back, unhooked her dress. “It would be better if you took the dress off, or at least ripped away the skirts.”
Celine nodded. With no protest she ripped at the fragile red fabric. It sheared apart easily, exposing her under dress below. “I need help with the petticoat.”
Edward pulled out his knife and pushed it into the cotton of her undergarments at the knees. Celine pushed his fingers away and expertly cut the cotton away from her body. Edward shivered as Celine’s actions revealed a vast expanse of immaculate stocking, ankle, knee and delicate thigh. Before he could forget himself, he took back his knife and pointed into the smoke. “We’ll try that way. It’s where the smoke is lightest.”
Celine nodded and followed him, the lack of heavy skirts increasing her speed tenfold. They waded through a small stream, scrambled up its banks and crawled through dense wet bracken.
As they reached the edge of the forest Edward raised a hand, and shuffled forwards. He peered out of the undergrowth at the roadway beyond.
Mr. Khaffar sat on his horse waiting patiently, Pithadora smugly riding a mare by his side.
Edward bowed his head. Mr. Khaffar had created his own trap. A trap that was not meant to kill them, but to funnel them down to the waiting pair.
There was no way forwards.
There was no way back if they wanted to live.
CHAPTER 37
Celine stared at Edward’s still form five yards ahead of her in the undergrowth. His body was coiled like a spring, and yet still retained its physically lithe form that she had come to expect from Edward’s experience of the woods.
Something was awfully wrong.
She watched as he backed through the bracken and came to a rest beside her. He stared silently back at the way he had come.
“What is it, Edward? Can we not get out?”
He shook his head. “We’re trapped,” he said dully. “We’ve been outmaneuvered.”
Celine shivered, despite the warm air swirling round them and gazed at the overlong hair that trailed over Edward’s collar. “Who’s waiting for us?”
“Mr. Khaffar.” Edward paused. “And Pithadora.”
Celine nodded
. Pithadora.
Edward turned to face her. “His men must be elsewhere setting the fires. We can either take our chances in the woods or we can go out onto the road.”
“You think they want to kill us?”
Edward nodded. “Pithadora has tried to kill you before and Mr. Khaffar wouldn’t hesitate to kill me now that he knows that I’ve been investigating his business.” He wiped a hand across his face.
“In that case we take our chances.” Celine turned and crawled back into the tracks they had made through the bracken.
“Wait, Celine,” Edward whispered hoarsely. “Taking our chances means that we have to leave our fate in nature’s hands.”
Celine stopped, her hand on a damp slimy piece of bracken. “Isn’t that the point?”
Edward gave a short sharp nod. “All right. At the next fallen tree, bear right away from our tracks.”
“Shouldn’t we be following them back into the forest?”
Edward shook his head. “We are going somewhere you and I haven’t been together yet.”
“Not the oak?”
“No.”
As Celine stumbled off the path they had made, the smoke grew thicker. She took a wadded offcut of her dress and pushed it to her nose, breathing through the fabric. But she couldn’t do anything about the stinging of her eyes. Edward drew alongside her. His head was down deep into his coat, his broad shoulders hunched. He glanced at her once and caught her by the hand again, urging her onwards.
“We don’t have much time,” he shouted, his voice muffled through the coat. “It’s getting hotter.”
Indeed it was. The air was getting even warmer, and the crackle and roar of a large fire was evident in the stillness of the forest.
“The fire is beginning to jump the trees.” Edward pointed off to his right. Celine risked a look above the material of her dress. Not one hundred yards away the firs were burning, bright candles of orange and yellow. One by one the next tree burned. “We need to move faster.”
Maddening Minx Page 26