***
Beau sat in the carriage and wondered just what it was he was going to find Milly had been up to. He'd promised to trust her and he was trying very hard to be open minded about whatever it was, but he couldn't help but acknowledge a tremor of unease.
He'd had an excellent morning with John Turnbull and his new associate and felt sure that they had the beginnings of something that could be a profitable business. They wouldn't be rich overnight by any means, but they could keep Ware going and begin work to the boy's school without worrying that they were going to have to start selling things off or mortgaging the property, which had certainly been inevitable just weeks earlier.
With the careful management of the estate now in hand Beau felt like he could finally breathe without the weight of debt hanging about his neck. It was a new and rather wonderful feeling and he felt very much like celebrating. If only Milly wasn't going to give him a heart attack with her news.
The carriage drew to a halt and Beau looked out to see crowds of people and a tall red brick building that was being engulfed in flames. With dread curling in his stomach he leapt down from the carriage and looked up at the driver, who was white-faced.
"That's the building, your Grace," he said, his eyes wide with horror. "That's where I dropped Lady Ware this morning."
Beau didn't stop to hear more but forced his way through the enraptured crowd, and then stopped in horror as he saw Milly's slight figure climbing out of a small window, high on the side of the building.
"Oh dear God, no," he whispered and ran towards her, searching for a way up. "Someone get a bloody ladder!" he yelled, terror holding his heart in a vice, his lungs locked down. Hardly daring to take his eyes from Milly he leapt onto a low wall that separated the property from its neighbour and ran along it until he could climb onto a small outhouse that leaned against the building. "Milly, hold on, love!" he yelled, panic a cold, fearful weight in his gut as the smoke began to sting his eyes and burn his lungs.
He ran over the decrepit roof of the building as old tiles shattered and slid beneath his boots. The rafters beneath him were clearly rotten as one gave way and he stumbled, one foot crashing through the roof. Cursing and praying he pulled himself up again, shouting over and over for Milly to hold on, he was coming!
The out building was still too far below Milly to be anywhere close to her and he wanted to scream as her fragile form disappeared in the thick plumes of smoke.
"Here, sir, take this!"
He looked down in relief to see someone passing him up a ladder. Snatching it from the man's grasp he stood it on the roof, praying it would hold, and put it against the wall beneath Milly. It was too far away for her to reach, but if he climbed to the top he should be able to grab her.
Coughing and choking, his eyes stinging and burning, he climbed and prayed Milly could hold on. He prayed to God, begged and pleaded. He'd do anything, anything at all, only don't take Milly away from him. Not that. He would never survive the loss of her.
He climbed into the smoke, feeling the heat of the fire even through the brick walls as he got closer.
"Milly! Milly!" he shouted until his throat was hoarse and his lungs burning to try and get her attention. With horror he saw her lovely brown eyes meet his for just a moment before he knew that a fit was going to take her from him. Watching in horror he saw her hold on the window sill slip, her hand dropping away ... and she fell.
Beau reached out, snatching at her and feeling his heart jolt with terror as her arm slid through his grasp. With determination he held on and his fist closed around her slender wrist. The force of her falling was so great that he almost followed her, clinging to the ladder with his other hand and crying out as her full weight in free fall bore down upon his arm. He felt his shoulder dislocate, a blinding pain that made him want to wretch but he held on, gritting his teeth. He wouldn't fail. He would not lose Milly. Not now.
Sweating and incoherent with pain and fear he forced himself back down the ladder. There were men at the bottom who took her to safety, carrying her down to the ground as he followed. Then sympathetic voices congratulated him as he pushed blindly through the crowd. Shouting for her, searching for his wife, he found only her slight figure too still and too quiet, laid out upon the dirty cobbles.
Chapter 33
"Wherein broken hearts pray for deliverance."
How he'd caught hold of her he would never know.
He couldn't remember much else except for holding her frail body in his arms all the way home. Her breathing had been so shallow, her face so still. No matter how he tried to stop it his anguished thoughts kept returning to Edward, and to the final fit that had stolen his twin from him. It had dragged his little brother into a sleep so profound that he'd never found the strength to wake again. What if that happened to Milly?
Beau stared unseeing at the wall in his office in the house on Savile Row. Nothing seemed real. He had plunged into a horrifying nightmare and there was no way for him to wake up. He wanted to scream and beg and pray for someone to wake him, to turn his head and find Milly's beside his on the pillow. His gut clenched at the idea he might never know such peace again.
This morning everything had been full of promise, the world a wonderful and exciting place, and all because Milly was a part of his life.
Now he was stood on a precipice and on one side stood the yawning jaws of hell. He had never been so afraid. He could hardly draw a breath, hardly dared to even blink in case he inadvertently did something to upset the fragile balance, and he plummeted into the dark for good. For there could be no coming back from hell if Milly wasn't there to save him. Nothing in his life mattered if she wasn't beside him. There was no meaning, no reason to go on.
He put his head in his hand, his fingers clutching at his hair as tears rolled down his face unchecked. Please God, please have pity, don't take her away. I'll do anything.
The door opened and Beau leapt to his feet, his heart pounding as he expected to see the doctor who had been examining Milly come to give him a report. Instead, framed in the doorway was his oldest friend. The man whose wife he'd tried to steal. A man he never expected to see again.
"Sebastian?" he said, helpless to add anything further, too afraid he would break down.
Sebastian crossed the floor and grasped Beau's shoulders making him wince though the doctor had relocated the joint. "Sit down, Beau," he said, his voice low. "Come on, man, before you fall down."
Beau allowed Sebastian to press him back into his seat and watched as he went and poured a glass of brandy. He returned, drawing up a chair close to Beau's and sitting, pressing the glass into Beau's hand.
"Drink it," he ordered.
Beau did as he was told, feeling pathetically grateful to have someone tell him what to do. He wanted to go up to Milly and demand that the doctor make her better, make her wake up ... but he wasn't quite so far gone as to not know that could only make things worse.
"I came as soon as I heard," Sebastian said, his dark eyes full of sorrow. "I'm so very sorry, my friend. I have no words, truly."
Beau looked up at him and dared to voice the terrible thought that had been circling his brain ever since that heart breaking moment when Milly had let go.
"It's punishment isn't it?" he said, his voice raw from the smoke and shouting and the force of his emotions. "I'm being punished for what I did."
"No!" Sebastian shook his head and gripped Beau's arm. "I ... I have been so damned angry with you, Beau. But even I don't believe that. Not for a moment."
Beau put the brandy to one side and hung his head.
"I can't lose her," he said, not caring if his friend could hear the raw emotion in his voice. "The doctor is with her now. He wouldn't let me stay. Oh, God help me, Sebastian. I can't lose her, but I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help her."
"You saved her from the fire, Beau. You did everything you could do. Let's wait for the doctor now."
For a moment Beau was overwhelmed
by the stench of smoke all over again, the crowd was screaming in his ears as Milly let go and his heart began to break.
They looked up as a polite knock sounded at the door and Dr Alperton came in. He had treated Beau when Sebastian had shot him and had nursed him through the subsequent fever. Beau felt he was a good man, a good physician. But he would see every damn doctor in the country if he had to.
Beau's heart knocked against his chest so hard he could hardly take in the doctor's words.
"No physical damage to speak of, short of a few minor grazes and bruises. There is no apparent reason for her continued coma as you are sure she received no blow to the head?"
Beau nodded his head to confirm the point again. "I'm sure."
The doctor nodded in return, his face grave. "The truth is that we simply do not have enough knowledge or understanding to properly treat conditions of this nature. I can bleed her, as that is what most doctors would prescribe at this stage but in all honestly, I'm not convinced of the efficacy of such a procedure at this time."
"Then what do we do?" Beau demanded, wanting nothing more than to put his hands about the fool's neck and squeeze until he found something they could do. He felt Sebastian's hand on his shoulder, steadying him and took a breath, only too aware of the pity in the doctor's eyes. "You must be patient, your Grace. From everything you have told me about your wife she is a strong and determined young woman. She will fight this. So go upstairs and sit with her quietly. Let her know you are with her, and pray that she finds the strength to return to you."
"That's it?" Beau shouted in fury, pushing the doctor against the wall. "That's all you can do for her?" he raged. Anger and impotence held him in its grasp. He wanted to tear the bloody world apart at the seams until someone gave his wife back to him to make him stop.
"Beau!"
He let go of the doctor as Sebastian's voice filtered through his terror, knowing he was beyond relying on his own judgement.
"Go to her, Beau," Sebastian said, his voice calm and full of assurance. "Go and be with your wife. I will return to the building and try and find out what happened. I'll come back as soon as I can."
Beau nodded and fled the room. He needed to be with Milly. That's where he should be. The sharp claws of pure fear sank into his heart and held on as he climbed the stairs. He couldn't bear it, to see his lovely, vibrant wife so still and quiet. But he wouldn't leave her alone. He would make her fight. He would force her to come back to him, because he wouldn't leave her side again. Not ever.
Even if she didn't survive.
***
Beau lost track of time lying beside Milly on their bed. He had the vaguest sense of night drawing in and tried to ignore it. Edward had died when Beau had fallen asleep. He'd always been plagued with guilt for that.
If he'd stayed awake, could he have saved his brother? Had Edward called out believing he was all alone in the dark, and Beau hadn't heard him? That nightmare had plagued him most of his life. Nightmares and ghosts. Both of them had stalked his life for as long as he could remember. Until Milly had been brave enough to chase them all away.
Somewhere in the far distance he heard the night watch calling the hour, past three O'clock and a fine night. A fine night, he thought with bitterness, Milly is barely alive and he thinks it a fine night? Anger flooded him, an incoherent rage that life was going on while his wife fought to live. It wasn't fair. It wasn't bloody fair!
Reluctantly he released her from his hold, leaning down to kiss her sweet face.
"Come on, Milly, love," he begged, not for the first time. "Wake up, little bird. Please, darling, please wake up. I'm so afraid of being without you."
There was no response. With a heart full of lead he got to his feet and sat on the hard chair on the other side of the bed. Exhaustion was pulling at him, his eyes were raw and dry and if he laid beside her, with her warm body giving him the illusion that she was merely sleeping, he was afraid he would fall asleep too. But Beau would never sleep again, not if she didn't wake up. He wouldn't let her slip away from him in the dark. He would not let her go.
The minutes and hours ticked past, the gradual lightening of the world beyond the bedroom curtain proving that life went on. The sun would still rise and the next day would still dawn, even if Beau no longer cared to see it.
Despair welled up in his chest and he dropped to his knees beside the bed, holding Milly's hand against his chest.
"Do you remember the day you came and spoke to me in Hyde Park, little bird? You looked so lost and frightened. I wanted to help you, you know. Wasn't that idiotic, Milly?" he said, smiling and stroking her hair. "But I was such a fool in those days, you see." He paused, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and praying his voice would remain steady. "I didn't realise, even then, that it was me that needed saving. You did that, my love. You showed me how wonderful life could be. You showed me that I could be a good man. I wanted to be a good man, for you." He hauled in a breath and put his arms around her, laying his head against her chest and hearing the soft thud of her heart beat. "Oh God, Milly, don't give up now," he begged. "Don't leave me now. I love you. I love you so much I can't stand it. It hurts so badly, my love."
He heard a soft sigh and lifted his head, hardly daring to breathe. Milly blinked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Who's leaving?" she murmured.
Beau gave an ecstatic cry of joy and put his hands to her face.
"Milly? Oh my God, my darling girl!"
She smiled, blinking sleepily and looking a little confused as she focused on him.
"Beau, what's wrong?" she asked, as she began to wake fully. "You look terrible!" she exclaimed, trying to sit up.
Beau gave a startled laugh. "No, don't move, don't you dare!" he said, putting his hands on her to keep her still. "Oh, little bird, you frightened me so badly." He pulled her into his arms and held her there, sending thanks to God and swearing he'd make good on all his promises. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again."
***
Milly stared at her husband and tried to figure out what on earth was going on? She must have suffered an attack, she assumed, and it had been severe enough to frighten him. But why, what had triggered it? Her head felt heavy and slow and she couldn't piece the fragments of her memory together. All she could see was Beau, his face white and drawn with worry, his eyes red.
He was holding her now and she allowed herself to sink into the comfort of his arms. She felt safe here. She felt he would never let her fall ... With a jolt she remembered the moment the window sill slipped from her grasp.
"It's alright, love, I'm here," Beau said, as she began to breathe in little gasps. "I won't ever let you fall, Milly. Not ever."
"The f-fire," she stammered.
He nodded, stroking her face with his big hand. "I know, love. The address you gave me, the place was alight when I got there." His face was full of anguish and she could see the terror in his eyes. "My God, Milly, when I saw you on that ledge I swear my heart stopped."
He held her by the shoulders, his blue eyes blazing with anger and terror and such love that she was overwhelmed. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" he said, his voice harsh and too full of emotion. "If you die, you'll kill me too, do you understand that? Do you have any idea how I'm supposed to go on now? How do I let you out of the house, out of my sight? The idea that something could happen to you ... that next time I might not be there ..."
He choked and she reached out to him and he pulled her against him. "I'm sorry, Beau, I'm so sorry."
They sat together, each clinging to the other, as if afraid to let go. After a while she looked up at him.
"You look so tired," she whispered, stroking his face and feeling the prickle of his beard against his palm. "Come and lay down with me."
She watched as he moved around the bed and went to lie on top of the cover. "Oh no, take all that off," she said, sounding impatient. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to feel his heart beating and to know they were both alive. She would
have to tell him soon enough that it had been no accident. That someone had tried to kill her, and that she knew who it was. But for now, for this moment, she wanted to lie in her husband's arms and thank God she was alive.
Chapter 34
"Wherein ... there is no place like home."
"Milly there is no need for you to come down, the doctor said ..."
"Oh, Beau!" Milly exclaimed. "I love you, I do, but if you don't stop fussing I shall strangle you and that's a fact. You can see I'm perfectly well."
Milly had spent the last week in bed and had been going slowly out of her mind. Especially as the blasted doctor had told Beau that under no circumstances was he to have marital relations with his wife.
Damn him.
She was going to have a few choice words with the doctor herself. She could hardly move now without Beau leaping to his feet and demanding what she wanted because he'd get it for her.
She looked up now to see anxiety in her husband's Mediterranean blue eyes and reached up on tip toes to give him a kiss. "I'm fine, Beau. Truly I am. Please don't worry so much."
She remembered with perfect clarity the moment she had told him that Mr Priestly had locked her in the room and set the fire. If his friend Sebastian - Lord Sindalton, hadn't brought the Bow Street Runners with him on finding that the fire had been set deliberately, she didn't know what might have happened. There wasn't a shred of doubt in her mind that if Beau had found the man, Mr Priestly would be long dead.
As it was it had taken the combined force of Sebastian, three runners and finally her pleas for him not to leave her alone, that made him relent. Besides, she'd added, she wasn't going to have him fleeing to France a second time because he'd murdered someone!
The Devil May Care Page 28