by Cecilia Rene
“You’re evil. You killed Lillian Cooper and tried to blame Remington. What do you plan to do with us!” Livie shouted, looking from Bromswell to Lady Windchester.
Bromswell gripped Livie’s arm tighter. “We’re going to kill you.”
All the air deflated from Livie, and she felt as if she could not move. Kill them? Her mind went to her family, and Remington. The thought of never seeing any of them again, shattered her heart and soul.
“With Lady Evers and the bastard gone, my allowance from my mother will continue.” Lady Windchester began starting a fire with the tinderbox.
“Your death will ruin Karrington. It appears he loves you, and what better way to make him pay than to take you away.” Baron Bromswell flung her in the chair and one of the henchmen began tying a rope around her body. “Forever.”
“No! No! Please stop this, Josephine. Emily and I will go away. I’ll do whatever you want, just let Emily go. She’s just a baby!” Amelia cried, struggling against the rope restraining her.
The henchmen started throwing things around the room, and Livie watched horrified as they lit candles from the fireplace. They began setting them around the room and sheer panic seized Livie.
“You’re both crazy! You can’t do this to us!” Livie cried, looking around wildly.
“Leave the bastard upstairs. No one will get to her.” Bromswell turned to Josephine. “We have to go,” he shouted taking a candle from one of his accomplices.
“Stop! Help!” Amelia yelled furiously.
Lady Windchester picked up a small figurine from the small pile Amelia had on the table and violently struck her with it. “I look forward to you and your daughter’s death.”
Livie watched horrified as Amelia’s head lolled to the side, blood spilling down her face.
Dread and defeat filled Livie. She did not know how they would ever escape the fire. Her mind went to the last time she saw Remington, the devastation in his eyes when she announced the engagement was off.
Tears ran freely down her face as it came to her, clear and bright as a summer day. Remington loved her.
Fire in Mayfair!
Livie couldn’t believe that she was going to die. She was going to die without telling Remington that she loved him. She looked over at Amelia, who was bleeding profusely. This entire ordeal didn’t feel real to her.
Lady Windchester bent down in front of Livie. “I’ll be sure to comfort Karrington in my bed. He’ll be too distraught to refuse me.”
“You’re mad!” Livie screamed, horrified by the two evil creatures.
Fear rocked her body as she watched a henchman set the drapes on fire.
“Goodbye, Lady Olivia. I am sad I won’t get your dowry.” Bromswell bent down and gave her a hard kiss on the lips.
Anger fueled Livie, and she bit his bottom lip hard until she tasted the bitterness of his blood.
Baron Bromswell wrenched away from her. “You bitch!” He slapped her across the face. The strike was so hard, it caused her teeth to rattle. She blinked several times, her vision now blurry.
“Let’s go before we burn with them!” Lady Windchester’s voice was piercing and afraid as the fire began taking on its own mission, spreading quickly through the room.
“Amelia!” Livie screamed, worried when she did not get a response. “Amelia! Wake up!” She wiggled and moved, trying to free herself.
“I’m up … Emily. You have to save Emily.” Amelia blinked several times as blood poured into her eye. “She’s upstairs in the nursery … promise me.” Her voice was desperate, her green eyes pleading.
“No.” Livie coughed, trying to speak through the heavy cloud of smoke. “We will both get out of here and go get her together.” Livie’s voice was soothing, so much calmer than she felt.
Inside she felt helpless and wanted nothing more than to give up and allow the fire to consume her. But Livie had to fight for herself, for little Emily upstairs, for Amelia, and Remington. She had to fight for all of them.
She had to get out of there, so that society could know what monsters Baron Bromswell and Lady Windchester were.
Livie wiggled from side to side, pulling her arms up as she did it. She was accustomed to trying to fit in a gown once she outgrew them, for no other reason than to prove her mother wrong about her addiction to sweets. She jerked her hand through, feeling the burn of the rope on her wrist. Livie pulled at the ropes with her free hand, trying to ignore the heat that seemed to grow by the second.
“Livie! Go save Emily!” Amelia pleaded.
Ignoring her, Livie went to pull on Amelia’s ropes. Amelia shook her head, causing blood to fly onto Livie’s pelisse. “No! Please! Go! … Please.”
Livie stopped working on the ropes and rose to her feet. She glanced frantically around the room, taking in the fire. “I’ll come back for you. I’ll get Emily and come back for you.”
Running out of the parlor, Livie was met by fire. It was engulfing the entire front hall of the townhome and traveling up the stairs, officially blocking them.
“Oh my God,” she cried, pulling at her hair.
Quickly, she ran toward the back of the home, pushing the door open to the servants’ stairs that led down to the kitchen. Thankfully, they weren’t burning—yet. She ran up the steps, trying to move quickly as she ran to the nursery.
She found Emily crying in her cot, the heat and smell of the smoke so thick she could barely breathe.
“Shh, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to go get your mama now.” Livie took off her pelisse and looked around the room.
She found a basin of water and poured it on the pelisse, soaking it. She then tore a piece of her chemise, wetting it as well and wrapped it around her face, trying to block the smoke from suffocating her. She took Emily and covered her in a blanket, placing the pelisse over the baby’s face.
The fire was everywhere, and she feared she wouldn’t be able to get them out. Squaring her shoulders, she ran out into the burning hallway, determined to get to Amelia and save them all.
Remington took a deep breath as the carriage stopped in front of the Hempstead’s townhome, and he quickly disembarked. He was going to fight for her. He loved Livie and would not give up on them.
The smell of smoke pierced his nose, and he looked up to the sky, noticing a fire beginning not far away.
“Looks like it’s going to be a bad one if they don’t get control over it.” His driver voiced, looking in the far-off distance.
A prickling feeling crept up the back of Remington’s neck as he made his way to the door. Thomas, the butler, opened it, and Remington handed him his hat and gloves.
When he followed the butler into the parlor, Hempstead, Lady Hempstead, Julia, and Abigail stood around wide-eyed. They all turned toward him when he entered.
“What is going on?” Remington asked, seeing everyone’s distress.
“Your Grace, thank goodness you’re here. Have you seen Livie?” Lady Hempstead’s voice was frantic, her eyes filled with tears and utter fear.
“What do you mean? Where is she?” Remington’s hands gripped at his sides, trying to control the panic that was now seizing him.
Gone. She was gone.
“We do not know. She was in her room resting but when Lady Hempstead went to check on her, she was nowhere to be found.” Hempstead began pacing back and forth.
No, he couldn’t lose her like this, he had to find her. Remington looked over at the maid who was avoiding eye contact with him, tears in her eyes. “Abigail do you know where Livie is?”
Abigail looked down at her feet, her hands in her pockets. “T-There was a note from Lady Evers, and she went to her to discuss the duke.”
“To discuss what exactly?” Remington asked hurriedly.
Abigail cleared her throat several times, her face reddening. Her dark eyes avoided looking into his. She took a missive out of her dress pocket and passed it to him. “She wanted to know if you were the father of Lady Evers’ child.”
> He tore open the letter.
Lady Olivia,
I would like to meet you in person, so that we can discuss the duke and my connection more in-depth. This is a sensitive matter and needs discretion.
Please come to my townhome at 22 Mount Street alone.
Lady Evers
“This makes no sense! Lady Evers wouldn’t write this. There is no connection between us.” Remington was dumbfounded as he read the words over and over.
Lady Hempstead walked over to him as her husband reached out his hand for the note. Remington thrust the missive into Hempstead’s waiting hand in frustration.
“Is there a possibility … the child—” Hempstead began but was cut short by Remington’s hard glare.
“No. The child is Windchester’s!” Remington yelled in anger, livid over all the damn gossip.
“Karrington, perhaps I should look for her since the engagement was called—”
Remington turned around, glaring at Hempstead. “Try to stop me Hempstead and see what will happen.”
He turned to leave, prepared to go to Lady Evers and demand she explain the absurd letter, but suddenly he knew it wasn’t her.
Lady Hempstead‘s voice shook. “I don’t understand why Lady Evers would send this then?”
“She didn’t write this. When I spoke to her the night she was evicted from her townhome, her only concern was for Livie’s reputation.” He shook his head, absently. “She cared more about Livie than she did for herself and her child.”
Heartford walked into the parlor and took in the mood of everyone, noticing how tense they were. “Is everything all right?”
Julia ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh, Henry, Livie’s missing, and we think she went to your sister’s.”
“I’m going to Lady Evers’ townhome to find out what the hell is going on,” Remington said.
“The streets are blocked. There’s a fire on Mount. I hoped Amelia was on her way to the new townhome by now. I left Windchester there since he refused to leave me be,” Heartford rushed out, noticing the color had drained from everyone’s faces.
“A fire? Olivia went to Mount!” Lady Hempstead yelled in horror. Remington rushed out of the room, outside, and into his carriage.
“Get me as close to Mount Street as you can!” he demanded of his driver as Heartford ran from the house and jumped into the carriage with him.
“What the hell is going on?” Heartford’s voice was bewildered.
Remington shook his head. “I don’t know. Someone sent Livie a letter pretending to be Lady Evers, insisting they discuss my involvement with her and her child.”
“Who would do that? We all know you have no connections with Emily.” Heartford’s leg bounced up and down.
“I know. I just pray that fire is nowhere near them.” Remington’s voice was shaky as the carriage bounced over the uneven cobblestone.
The carriage came to a halt as crowds of people ran past it, causing it to jostle roughly. Remington opened the carriage door, standing to see ahead.
“It’s blocked off, sir.”
Panic started to run through him. Remington peered ahead on Mount Street, noticing the crowd going further down near Lady Evers’ old townhome.
“Heartford, let’s go!” he screamed, jumping out of the carriage into a sea of bodies and running as fast as his long legs would take him.
“What is it!” Heartford yelled as he ran beside Remington.
“I think Amelia’s townhome is on fire! Livie, is in there!” The words were wrenched from Remington’s lips. He prayed to God that he was wrong, and that for once, his senses had failed him.
They reached the fire brigade, who was using a pump and a hose to try to stop the massive fire that had spread to four other homes.
“Good God!” Remington screamed, his heart lodged in the pit of his stomach.
“Amelia!” Heartford gasped as he looked up at the large fire swirling out of control.
Remington searched frantically for Livie in the crowd, but she was nowhere to be found. He grabbed one of the men holding the hose.
“Has anyone been taken out of twenty-two! My fiancée was there, along with Lady Evers and her child,” Remington demanded, his voice on the verge of hysteria. The fear was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
Remington couldn’t lose her. Dear God, he couldn’t lose her like this. Once she was safe, if she never wanted to see him again, he would gladly stay away from her as long as she was alive. He couldn’t lose his Livie. It would be like losing his own heart, and how could one live without a heart?
“No, sir, I’m sorry, but if anyone was there, they’re gone. The front is blocked by fire.” The man bowed his head.
Remington’s felt cold all over. His mind went wild, and he took off running.
The servants’ entrance! There had to be a way in, and he would find it no matter what! The corner of the stately, three-story terrace house had a servants’ entrance not yet consumed by fire.
His mind was set on one thing as he ran ahead and past the crowd. “Sir! Stop! Stop!” He heard a man scream, but he kept moving, adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Heartford joined him as Remington kicked furiously at the servants’ door, causing it to burst open, releasing a cloud of dark smoke.
Without further thought, Remington lunged into the burning townhome—thinking only of Livie.
Livie carefully edged her and Emily past a fallen beam on the second floor. The ceiling was caving in on her, and she still needed to make it down the servants’ stairs and back to Lady Evers. Two flights of stairs, in a burning house. She had no idea if she could do it, but she had to try. She couldn’t die here—wouldn’t die here—and if she could help it, she wouldn’t let Emily or her mother perish either.
Her hands squeezed Emily tightly to her chest, checking every now and again that she was well. She was afraid she would drop her, so she clung to her desperately. The baby constantly whimpered in her arms, a sound that thrilled Livie, because she knew Emily was alive and well.
Livie cleared the burning beam, relief fueling her momentarily at her accomplishment.
The smoke was so thick that a cough consumed her. Pulling the rag down that was covering her face she yelled, “Help! Help!” Her voice was desperate as she struggled to breathe with the smoke growing around her.
Livie reached the servants’ stairs, so happy that the first part of her task was over. She took off running toward the clear space, hope filling her that they all would survive.
Taking the stairs as fast as she could, she was careful not to trip while carrying the baby. When she was near the first floor, she felt relief build inside of her, knowing that she only had one more flight to go before she was in the kitchen. Livie stopped walking, barely able to see from all the smoke and ash in front of her.
Debris from the ceiling was falling all around, and she feared another beam would come crashing down on them. She could sense the heat from the first floor and feared it was covered in flames. She desperately needed to find a way to get to Amelia. Perhaps she could get Emily outside and come back for her mother.
“Livie! Livie!” The sound of Remington’s deep voice could be heard through the fog of the smoke.
“Remington!” Livie yelled, so happy to hear him. Her heart soared at the thought of him risking his own life to save her.
Love for him took over her, and she wanted nothing but to fling herself into his arms and forget about everything.
“Livie! Thank God! Thank God!” he screamed, coming into view in front of her eyes.
He took a step forward until parts of the ceiling fell between them, making a large hole in the stairs and bursting the door of the first floor open. Fire came gushing out of it, causing Livie to scream and press herself and Emily against the wall.
“I’m trapped!” she cried, holding Emily to her bosom.
“No … I’m coming,” he assured her. “Trust me, love.” He slowly eased onto the edge
of the remaining stairs toward her.
The servants’ stairs were barely wide enough for his body. He wobbled precariously on the small pieces of wood, shuffling slowly toward where Livie stood. It was a gap as wide as a carriage seat, but it seemed like it was as large as Hyde Park with his slow progression.
Heartford stood behind Remington, looking on wide-eyed. “Lady Olivia, where is Amelia?”
She looked at the open door, horrified at what she saw. “Baron Bromswell and Lady Windchester … they tied us up and set the place on fire,” she choked out, her eyes on Remington’s careful steps toward her.
He slipped at her words and then clung to the wall catching himself. Parts of the stairs remained, but one misstep and he would fall to his doom.
“Remington! Please be careful,” she cried, fear for all of them now swarming inside of her.
“I’m going to try the main staircase and see if I can get to Amelia,” Heartford called out to them.
“It’s completely consumed, Henry,” Remington yelled.
“I have to try! She’s my sister!” the marquess yelled with determination before he ran back down the stairs.
Remington gradually made his way to her. When he reached her, he took her into his arms, and placed a quick peck to her forehead.
“You came for me?” She was overcome with emotion and love for this brave man.
“Always. I’ll always come for you … I love you, Livie.” He removed Emily from her arms and secured her against his chest.
“I love you and I’m—” She looked up at him with teary eyes as she felt the heat of the fire around them.
“Not here. We have to go.” He said urgently. Leaning down, he gave her a stern look. “Let’s get out of here. Take hold of my arm and don’t let go.” He instructed, leading her toward the edge and away from the massive hole in the narrow passage.
Livie wrapped her arm around his as if they were going to take a stroll in the park. Her grip was tight, and she was afraid to loosen it. “Remington ….” Her voice cracked, not wanting to admit out loud the fear that was consuming her.