Celine drew in a deep breath, choking as smoke rolled down her throat. “Which way?”
Edward glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “Towards the fire.”
“Towards the fire?” Celine choked as her breath hitched. “But—”
“Do you trust me, Celine? Will you believe in me?” Edward’s body tensed, his elbows bent, his hands in fists. “Will you go with me?” he corrected.
Celine nodded. “Of course.” He was the man that had felled Lady Guthrie in the dark. This was his home ground. If anyone could get them out of this situation, Edward could.
Edward nodded, once, twice. “Two hundred yards in that direction.” He pointed towards a group of pines that were yet to burn. He waited for her response.
Celine took a deep breath and let it out. “I will follow you.”
Edward started off at a slow run, looking round to see if Celine was following. She paced as fast as she could, her shorter strides matching two to his one. The lack of skirt was freeing, but still she stumbled on the loose debris on the forest floor as her ankle gave way beneath her, the gap between herself and Edward widening as they neared the unburnt pines.
“Keep coming!” Edward shouted. “Keep coming and you’ll see me.” He disappeared between the trees.
The heat now was intense. The fire had only five trees to jump before it would reach the area where Edward had disappeared. Celine could not imagine what Edward had up his sleeve that would keep them alive. Still she plunged on, gasping as the fire jumped again.
She broke through the line of fires that stood more densely together than the forest around. And a chill ran through her. It was not just that Edward had disappeared, but here in the clearing the air was colder, the smoke and heat kept back by the dense branches.
“Edward?” Her voice wobbled on the tentative call. She wet her mouth and called again. “Edward!” She glanced back as a twig crackled behind her, and cried out in alarm. The orange strands of the fire had caught hold of the ring of trees that surrounded the clearing. Given their density soon the ring would be burning. And she would be burning with it.
“Here!” In the middle of the clearing the earth moved. Slowly, great clods of earth peeled back as a hole appeared in the ground. Edward’s face peered out at her. “Quickly, Celine, come in!”
Celine limped across the clearing, she was but five yards away from the hole when she caught her trailing ankle in a loose root. Arms flailing she fell to the floor, smashing against the hard earth with a thud.
“Celine!” Edward’s voice called in alarm. “Get up!”
Celine worked her jaw. She had landed with her head on the ground. Her vision separated into two and then joined again. “Ca—n’t,” she managed. Her ankle burned. She swallowed as the pain increased. “Ed—ward?”
“Dear god, Celine, to have managed it till now. The last moment.” Edward’s breath was hot and heavy on her ear. With barely a grunt she felt his hands scrabbling beneath her, lifting her away from the ground. She screamed as her ankle twisted free, and a new level of pain invaded her leg.
“That’s my girl,” Edward whispered. “Make them think we are gone.”
“My ank—le,” she huffed. “It hurts.”
“I know, dear heart.” Edward jolted her up and forwards. “You can have some rest soon.”
“Where?”
Edward’s sigh was audible. “Right here.”
Celine felt her body being lowered, down, down below ground level. Her body thudded onto a wooden floor. “Ow!”
“I’m sorry.” She felt Edward lying down next to her. “It’s going to go dark.”
“When?” Celine’s vision reeled.
“Now, I’m afraid.”
Celine gulped as suddenly she saw nothing, and yet still the world spun. “Edward?”
“Yes?”
“Hold me,” she forced out, opening her eyes and shutting them again.
“Gladly.” Edward’s voice was warm and amused. She felt his body shift next to hers, a long warm heat against her side. And then a hand landed on her exposed thigh.
She drew in a breath as the hand stayed still. The world had very certainly stopped spinning.
“I’d like to count your attributes.” Edward’s breath was hot on her ear as his hand inched upwards.
Celine let a breath out as despite the pain in her leg, low down in her body a fire of its own started. “Is this what you call fiddling whilst Rome burns?” she said in great gasps as Edward’s long fingers traced a tattoo across her belly.
“You’re like a finely crafted ledger,” Edward murmured. The soft bass of his voice resonated through her body.
“I’ve never been called that before.” Celine wriggled as he stroked her hip bone. “May I ask where we are?”
“We’re in a hole in the ground.”
“Not a grave!” Celine reached out an arm and realized with a sigh of relief that she couldn’t touch the other side of the box. Nor did she encounter any other bodies.
But it did mean that Edward’s questing hand slid higher across her body and up to her chest.
He sighed happily and audibly. “If I’m going to die, then now would be the right moment.”
“I preferred it when you were talking about ledgers.” Celine shivered as Edward’s rough fingertips traced across the milky soft skin between her underarm and her breast.
“Would you like me to continue?” Edward’s hand stilled. Celine held her breath as the fire started in her belly banked itself for an instant.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I think you should.”
“Good.” Edward’s voice plummeted in tone. “You see, when I first became Mr. Fiske, it was to hide who I really was.” He stroked under her chin, and drew her face over sideways. “But what I didn’t realize was that I used everything that I had in creating the character.” Tracing a finger over her lips, he replaced them with his tongue, a long searing lick.
She twitched as the banked fire in her belly roared into life. She turned on her side, towards him, her hip brushing against a piece of wood.
His hand reached out again and traced the lush curve of her hip and thigh. “We are in my storage bunker in a clearing that I created. The wooden roof is covered with frozen turf. The fire won’t reach us here. It can’t jump across the clearing.”
Suddenly he pulled her hips towards him, jamming her against his thighs, pressing her breasts against his chest. “I know that this is not the time. But I have never taken any liberties worth speaking of, despite wanting it…needing it.”
Celine tipped her head back as she rubbed against him. “I need it too, Edward.” She licked her lips. “Tell me more about your ledgers.”
Edward laughed, the shaking of his body pressing against her hips. “I sometimes thought that Rochester and Fiske were two different people, but now I am beginning to see they are one and the same. Fiske thinks of a ledger as a beautiful creation, a fabricated inventory of dealings and webs. Rochester thinks of the forest as a beautiful creation, an inventory of homes for animals. One is intangible, the other tangible.” His hand tightened on her waist, squeezing, pulling. He stopped speaking and with no warning gave her a searing kiss. “And that is the way I can appreciate you, the tangible—” his breath flooded across her face as he kissed the underside of her jaw, “and the intangible.” He reached down and felt at her half boots where a small knife poked down the side of her boot.
“Are you saying that Fiske appreciates my appearance and Rochester my mind?” Celine lifted her hand and paused, before laying it gently on Edward’s cheek. He gasped audibly as she ran a finger down to his mouth.
“No—ah and yes.” He let out his breath with a hiss. “All of me appreciates all of you.”
Celine giggled. “So you could say we are together in this.”
Edward nodded, his nose brushing against her cheek. “Very definitely.”
Celine took a deep breath. “Edwar
d?”
“Yes?”
She bit her lip. “If we leave here alive, I would be honored to be your wife.”
Edward’s hand was hot and heavy on her waist. “At last,” he whispered. “Salvation at last.”
“But—”
“Yes?”
“Only on the condition that you hold me now for longer.”
“Of course.”
Celine tipped her head back. “And on our wedding night, Edward, I want you to hold me in the way Lord Rochester will know from the birds and the bees.”
“You mean—?”
“Yes, Edward. I mean intimately.”
“Yes. Yes. I will be able to do that.”
CHAPTER 38
Edward was not sure when the roaring in his ears, his body, or his mind passed. All he was aware of was Celine’s soft body next to his.
“Listen.” Celine’s voice was shaky.
Edward licked his lips. “I can’t hear anything.” He wasn’t sure he would be able to hear anything ever again after the promise that Celine had given.
“Nor can I. The sound of the fire was loud. Extremely loud.”
“It might be that we can’t hear anything from in here.”
Her nose touched his as she turned to face him again. “I’m beginning to feel cold. Perhaps the fires have burned themselves out. Surely we will need to leave before they come hunting for us?”
There was no way to hedge around the issue. He nodded, his cheek rubbing against hers. “Yes.”
He allowed himself only an instant to remain there, in the calm, before pulling reluctantly away. He pushed up the ceiling to their hideaway with a hand, letting in a chink of light. A rush of cold air blasted through the gap, clear, icy tasting. Smoke-less.
Edward took a deep breath. “We need to move. Now, and fast.” He surged upwards, pushing back the wooden lid of the storage hole. Reaching out for Celine, he hauled her upright into the bracing air, whilst staring at the woods around them. The ring of trees that had stood so majestically above the clearing were now half their original height, mere deformed black skeletons of their former selves. Beyond the ring, the devastation was repeated.
“Edward, your forest,” Celine gasped.
He gave her a quick glance, marveling at her compassion. “The Rochester in me is dismayed, but the Fiske in me tells me bluntly that it can be replanted at a reasonable cost. Firs grow fast. The forest should have been coppiced and thinned years ago but I didn’t do it as I was ‘away’.” He pulled her upwards with the last of her energy and caught her as she teetered on the injured ankle.
Celine put a hand on his arm. “We should go straight to Robert’s cottage.”
Edward froze as a figure detached itself from one of the deformed trees. “Dammit to hell, Celine, get behind me!” In a burst of movement he pulled her towards him and swung her round behind his back.
“Why—oh my god!” Celine fell backwards on her ankle and screamed as it took the full weight of her body. Edward ignored her sobs, keeping his arms tight around her.
“Keep your head low and look over my left shoulder,” he whispered quietly.
“Oh. God.” Celine ducked back down below his shoulder again. “Mr. Khaffar,” she huffed with labored breaths, “we’re too late.”
Edward stiffened as the sounds of charred twigs crumbling beneath Mr. Khaffar’s feet fled solidly through the quiet air of the forest. He lifted his head and squinted in the direction of the sound, wiping his face as unexpectedly tears fell from his eyes. The smoke had done more damage to his vision than he thought. He blinked in the cold air and stiffened as Mr. Khaffar brought up his hand, with the unmistakable shape of a pistol firmly in his grasp.
The barrel of Mr. Khaffar’s gun tracked Edward as he pulled Celine closer to him. “You will release, Celine, Mr. Fiske, and do exactly as I say.”
Edward wiped a hand at his streaming eyes. “I’m not going to release her just so that you can kill me.” His voice came out hoarse, but still strong.
“But you can’t run, Mr. Fiske. You can’t get away.” Mr. Khaffar gave a long, low laugh.
Celine shivered in Edward’s embrace. “What do you want, Mr. Khaffar? Who do you want to kill?” she shouted over his shoulder, her breath ruffling his hair.
“I don’t want to kill anybody.” Mr. Khaffar’s tones were certain.
Edward blinked.
“Today,” the Eastern man amended.
Edward tightened his grip on Celine. “Why the fire? You could have killed both of us.”
“That was that blasted woman’s idea. She knows what I want. She said you would be tough enough to survive.” Mr. Khaffar’s hand shook.
“Tough enough?” Celine’s voice was shrill. “That woman…you mean Pithadora?”
Mr. Khaffar nodded visibly against the gray sky. “Twenty-five years ago she said she would look after you well when I gave you to her.”
“You gave me to her?” Celine echoed, hurt audible in her voice.
Mr. Khaffar nodded. “It was your mother’s dying wish. Your brother had already been taken away by his supposed father, but you were unexpected, you came a half hour later. It was just your mother and the midwives. She called me. She made me promise.”
Edward closed his eyes and turned away from Mr. Khaffar. Celine shook in his arms, a sob breaking through her throat.
“You knew my mother.” Celine buried her face in Edward’s shoulder. “He knew my mother.”
She wouldn’t look at Edward. He resisted the urge to stroke her hair, glaring back at Mr. Khaffar, who gazed at them unconcernedly.
Mr. Khaffar nodded, and lowered the barrel of his gun slightly. “Lady Colthaven was a wondrous woman.”
“My mother was Lydia Randall, Lady Colthaven,” Celine whispered. “But that means my father is…”
“Lord Granwich.” Edward swallowed as his mouth suddenly turned dry. Unstable. That’s what Granwich had called him. And if he now wanted to marry the man’s daughter? What now?
“Yes. Most unfortunate that,” Mr. Khaffar remarked. “As soon as I received the note from Pedro Moreno I knew there would be trouble.”
Edward shook his head. “But I thought this was all about Major Coxon-Williams. The note said nothing about Celine.”
“It didn’t. But it did give information about Major Coxon-Williams’ father that was unfortunate. You see, Lord Colthaven didn’t mind his wife playing fast and loose on him. After all, he played fast and loose on her.”
“But he did mind that he wasn’t the father of his children and would be especially incensed that my father was Lord Granwich?” Celine pushed Edward’s arms away. Slowly he allowed her to pull away from him.
Mr. Khaffar nodded. “Your mother told me to take you to a special place, the Melinno Society. She had heard they were good at keeping secrets. She confided in me that your father would be proud. I did not know your father was Granwich at the time.”
“How did she know about the Melinno Society?”
“She never told me. Your mother had many secrets.”
“What kind of secrets?” Celine said quickly.
Mr. Khaffar laughed. “Just like Lydia.” He sobered. “She was a wealthy woman, and yet one day I heard an argument between her and Lord Colthaven. He was asking where all the money had gone. She wouldn’t tell him. Some of course had gone to pay for your keep.”
“The ledger.” Edward tapped his head with his hand. “Of course, five hundred pounds for goods delivered.” He turned back to Celine. “It was the accounting by the Melinno Society that tallied up your keep, when you were delivered.”
“Thank god it burned,” Celine said quietly. She gazed past Edward at Mr. Khaffar. “Why do you want me now? Surely your duty to me finished the moment you delivered me?”
“Not just that, why did you even do it for Lady Colthaven, given you worked for her husband?” Edward asked, keeping his grip firmly on Celine. Just a coupl
e more steps forward…
“Do what? Look after Lydia’s child?” Mr. Khaffar frowned. “Do you know what it is like to be in someone else’s country, surrounded by people that regard you as an oddity? A cur to be kicked to the curb?”
“No.”
“Lady Randall—Colthaven, she knew about India! She spoke to me in my language. She gave me money for my family. And when my family died in a fire she observed my customs in giving them a decent farewell. I may have worked for her husband, but in truth, she is what kept me working for him. I owed her. I stayed to protect her.”
“And yet still she died.” Celine’s voice was flat and emotionless.
Mr. Khaffar blinked. “She was dead as soon as I came back from delivering you.”
Celine choked. “I killed her—”
“No.” The curtness in Mr. Khaffar’s voice surprised Edward. “No. She died as many women do in our time from complications after childbirth.” He lowered his voice. “Lydia gave up living after she married Lord Colthaven. She hung on only to have you and Hyder. In truth the doctors said something was wrong long before that.”
Edward looked down into Celine’s face. She gave him a quick glance, paused and twisted her lips in a wry smile. “And you think that you have a complicated family history?” She turned back to Mr. Khaffar who took another step forward. Edward held his breath. “I’m sorry, Mr. Khaffar, but I don’t quite believe you. You see, I know that you cut a man’s arm off, Pablo Moreno’s arm in fact, and Edward, he says you attempted to kill him. That does not sound like a man who would agree to help a woman.”
Edward nodded. Just one step further… “Add to that your dealings with the armory, and the Pink Canary Club.”
Mr. Khaffar stepped forward, lowering his gun. “In all of us there is a thing that—by Vishnu what is going on?” A twang rent the air as Mr. Khaffar was suddenly drawn backwards.
Edward let go of Celine and ran towards Mr. Khaffar as he lay stunned on the ground. With a swing of his legs he kicked the pistol from Mr. Khaffar’s fingers. The scorched twine trap that he had laid the night before whilst waiting for Celine in the clearing had tightened around Mr. Khaffar’s legs, pulling him to the floor, despite the fir tree’s demise.
Maddening Minx Page 27