Abigail's lips parted on an agonized groan when Katrina's knee dug into her back. The woman paused only to kick Abby's crutch out of reach before running toward the pistol.
"Calvin!" Abigail screamed, then screamed again when strong fingers wrapped into her hair and dragged her off the floor.
Calvin held Raleigh by the collar of his shirt, the man's face turning an odd shade of violet-red, as he stumbled to his feet. His gaze darted between Katrina and Abigail, who was kicking out wildly and digging her nails into Dobbs's hand in an effort to dislodge his painful grip.
"Stop her!" Abigail managed to offer the one shout before Dobbs slammed her forward into the table at which she had just sat. She hit the wood with enough force to send the table over, its contents scattering across the floor. Through the tears of pain that filled her eyes, she saw the taper almost douse, then the flame catch the paper she had neatly penned her curse upon.
Her wide eyes moved from the foolscap that was disintegrating into flames to Calvin, who had frozen halfway to Katrina, and then Katrina herself. Though her hand was none too steady, she smiled as she took aim at him.
Chapter 29
He turned away at the explosion, turned so his last vision before dying would be of Abigail. He only hoped that, despite her own battle with Dobbs, she would be looking at him, offering him one last gift of her peaceful gaze before Katrina's bullet found him.
Abigail was not, however, looking at Calvin. Her mouth hung slightly agape, her eyes wide, as she focused not on Katrina but a point just beyond the woman's shoulder. Calvin watched her wince, saw one of her hands lift up to shield her face and her eyes squeeze closed a moment before shards of sparkling diamonds scattered across her and Dobbs like rain. Not rain, Calvin realized. Not diamonds. Broken glass.
Katrina screamed, dropping the gun as she clutched her bleeding wrist to her breast. Calvin did not try to hash out what had happened. He ignored the woman who was sobbing hysterically as he picked up the gun. He knew the table had caught fire, saw the damn thing blanketed with flames, but he barely glanced at it. His movements were slow and deliberate as he faced Dobbs.
The other man was watching him over Abigail's head, one of his arms fit snug beneath her neck as he held her against him.
"I could break her neck," Dobbs pointed out.
"I would suggest you not." Calvin did not point the pistol at the other man. He let his gaze drift between Dobbs's face and Abigail, who, all things considered, looked reasonably calm. Looking at her-hands holding loosely to Dobbs's coat sleeve, hair spilling down over her shoulders, her eyes patient and waiting-Calvin wondered what he would ever do without Abby.
Heat filled the room, he noted. In a brief glance he saw the fire was spreading more rapidly now. It had reached the damask curtains that bracketed the windows. Flames licked at the ceiling and closed in around Dobbs's ankles.
"Let her go, Dobbs"-Calvin kept his voice calm, hinting at none of the rage that boiled inside him-"and you'll come to no harm."
"An' if I don't?" Dobbs's voice shook.
"You'll not live to see another day."
The other man took a step backward, as if he feared he might be injured by Calvin's deadly tone, then screamed. He had stepped directly into the fire.
Abigail fell to the floor when he released her to bat at the flames crawling up his stockings. Calvin reached her less than a second later, catching her by the elbows and lifting her to her feet.
"My crutch!" Abigail grabbed hold of the back of his shirt, scanned the floor. Her face fell when she spotted the walking stick's charred remains beneath the curtains. "Bloody hell. What shall we do now?"
"Run." Calvin's gaze was on the door.
"I cannot." Abigail shook her head, shoving at his chest. "You go."
"Like hell." The words came from the pit of his belly. In one fluid move he knelt, pressed his shoulder into Abigail's stomach, then lifted. She released a breathless shriek as he strode toward the open doorway.
"What about them?" Her words shook in time with her bouncing against his shoulder.
He looked back, saw Katrina dragging Raleigh to his feet. Dobbs was doubled over, breathless after his fight to keep the fire from eating him alive.
"They'll be fine." Calvin faced forward again. "Pity."
Smoke was already filling the hallway beyond the ballroom, following them as they found the front door.
He was waiting at the end of the front steps. In one hand he held the reins of Achilles and a mare from the stables; in the other, the hunting rifle Raleigh had left behind after allowing Dobbs to nearly kill Abigail with it.
"Timothy?" Abigail swung her head to the side to look at him. "I thought I saw you outside that window."
He nodded, eyes on the flames that burst through the window he did not shoot out. "Margot said you might need help." He focused on his employer. "Are you all right?"
"She's fine, Timothy," Calvin said. He swung Abigail back to her feet, steadying her when she wobbled.
Timothy went to Abigail once she was astride the horse, looked up at her with apology in his eyes. "I didn't steal it, Lady Abby. I found it in the field. I didn't think it was right the viscount should have it back after what he did."
"It's all right, Timothy. I'm glad you had it for safekeeping." Abigail smiled down at him as Calvin swung up behind her. "You may have saved our lives."
In the glow of the fire that was filling the Raleigh home, the young man smiled.
The shouting startled Abigail, who felt, quite honestly, she had been through enough for one evening. She looked up from the last tie on her robe as she heard the door slamming. Heavy stomping crossed the hall before her own door was thrown wide.
She lifted her brows. "Is something amiss, Mrs. Poole?"
The older woman strode into the room, the lines of her face even deeper as she glowered. "The man's as big as an ox and as strong as a bull, but can't take a little of my poultice for that bump on his head!"
"It does take some getting used to," Abigail tried on Calvin's behalf. Her nose wrinkled despite herself; the jar in which the cook kept it could not contain the herbal remedy's vile stench.
Mrs. Poole reached for her employer's hand. "You put it on him then. If not, the stubborn fool might get an infection." She slapped the jar into Abby's palm, releasing a string of irritated curses as she marched out of the room.
Abigail looked from the poultice to the door closed directly across from hers. She sighed.
Not without some effort, she managed to make it across the room and into the hall. She had forgotten how much she depended upon her wooden crutch until Calvin was obliged to carry her to her room and Margot had to aid her in removing her smoke-scented clothes for her clean nightgown. By the time she reached Calvin's bedchamber, Abigail was breathing heavily and forcing herself to ignore the pain awakening in her knee.
She rapped lightly on the door.
"Go away, I said!"
Abigail blinked then reached for the door handle. She had managed three steps inside the room by the time the man scrubbing vigorously at his shoulders in the bathtub noticed her. He scowled darkly before realizing who she was. Then his scowl went darker still.
"You should not be on that leg."
"Don't get up!" Abigail lifted a hand, diverting her eyes when he began to push himself out of the bath. "I'm fine, really." She moved quickly to the nearest chair, feeling her skin catch fire when she realized she could see directly into the water. Though such modesty was ridiculous given all they had been through, she scooted from the chair to the rug beside the tub.
Calvin's lips had begun to curl into a smile until he spotted the jar in Abigail's hand.
"I'm not putting that stuff on my head, Abby."
She had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing at his expression. There was something about a man in a bathtub, water gleaming off the defined muscles in his shoulders and back, with a rather childish look of petulance upon his face.
; "It's really not so bad, Calvin." She removed the lid.
"It smells like sh-"
"I heard that!" Mrs. Poole's shout penetrated the closed door and was punctuated by the slamming of hers.
Abigail returned the lid to the jar when her eyes began to water. "Perhaps later."
Calvin's frown was less than encouraging. "It sounds like all the commotion has died down." He twisted his rag; fat drops of water spilled down into the bath to make ripples.
Abigail watched his strong fingers wrap tightly about the cloth, trailed his arms to his naked chest. She swallowed. "Margot thinks that most of the servants from the viscount's came here after the fire."
"I was downstairs for a while"-Calvin nod- ded-"but decided it would be best to retire when everyone kept staring at me."
Gazing into Calvin's face, Abigail could understand the others' interest. The cheek where he had taken the broadside of Raleigh's pistol had swollen, and blood still marred his brow. When she reached for the washcloth, he did not resist. "You do too much. After having been knocked unconscious, you should have rested." Recalling what Margot had told her in between moving up and down the stairs, she chuckled.
"What is it?" He flinched a little at the tentative press of the washcloth to his brow.
"Sorry," Abigail offered with due sympathy, but continued to gently wipe away the remnants of blood from his hairline and temple. "Raleigh's servants were attempting to hash out what had happened. All had been taken off their posts and sent to their respective chambers earlier than usual tonight. Some said they saw the viscount and Mr. Dobbs dragging in a drunkard who could hardly walk between them. One young woman was certain she heard a gunshot before smoke filled the house."
"What of the viscount and his cohorts? Any news?" Calvin's eyes slipped closed as Abigail's ministrations moved down his cheek. He rested his head against the lip of the bathtub, the dark line of his neck arched.
"The last anyone saw of Raleigh and his cousin, they were loading up into a carriage with Mr. Dobbs at the reins. They were overheard talking of relatives in France. " Abigail let the cloth drop back into the water; her fingertips traced a pattern across its surface then brushed the top of Calvin's knee. She remembered Calvin covering her badly scarred knee with the palm of his hand as if the puckered and red flesh did not exist. Then she remembered something else...
"I should think you will be forever rid of them, Abby." His eyes remained closed as he spoke. "You succinctly ruined every attempt the man made to frighten you."
Her eyes moved down the sinew of his chest to where it disappeared under the water. Her hand moved forward. "Thank you." She took a deep breath. "Calvin, I am very glad you chose to come here. Especially after what I have been through with the viscount."
His eyelids slowly lifted. "Abigail, there is something you should know."
She ignored him, too afraid she would lose her nerve. "I have never told you, because it is hard for me after all the time I've spent trying to depend only upon myself, but I do not know what I would have done without you."
His knuckles were damp when they touched her cheek. Her gaze rose to meet his and her fingers drifted closed around him beneath the water.
His jaw went immediately taut, his eyes wide. She saw the muscles of Calvin's body go tense and felt the one in her hand go hard.
"Oh." She smiled because it was not only she that could be affected so easily at a touch.
Abigail released a startled cry when Calvin wrapped his arms around her waist and began abruptly dragging her into the water with him. The now-lukewarm stuff splashed over the sides of the bath and onto the floor as he positioned her knees on either side of him, completely unconcerned with the brace still fastened about one.
He released a low growl that rumbled against the core of her when he saw the material of her sheer robe and nightgown go translucent. Abigail wrapped her arms tightly around Calvin's bare shoulders as he bowed his head into her neck and opened his mouth against the flesh there. His hands came up to cup her breasts, and she released a contented sigh as his head lowered further still. Her head rocked back as his mouth closed over her nipple through the material of her gown, groaning when the scrap of fabric proved too much a barrier.
She heard the strap tear and smiled at Calvin's brief, murmured apology as he pressed kisses down her now-bare shoulder to the eagerly awaiting flesh below.
One of her hands moved from the burning skin of his back to the rim of the bathtub as Calvin brought one of his to her lower back, guiding her closer still. The breath hissed from between his clenched teeth, a near-inaudible gasp parted Abigail's lips, and then they were rocking back and forth beneath the water.
Calvin's forehead touched hers, and her lashes lifted so they were eye to eye. She felt his lips curl against hers before he was kissing her, holding her with both hands at her hips, driving himself deeper and deeper until he felt an indispensable part of her. ... .. .. . . . . . . .. .
Abigail sobbed-both hands now clenching the bathtub as if for dear life-and the world shattered around her. She felt as if she were floating, Calvin's sound of release coming from far away as she settled back into an awareness of her surroundings.
She let her head fall forward against his chest. "Calvin," she breathed, "I love you." The last word hadn't slipped from her lips before she was frozen solid, eyes wide in the dim light and a single hand fisted over her mouth.
Dear God, she hadn't meant to say it. The feelings bursting inside her had forced the words out. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, terrified of Calvin's response, certain she had made a fool of herself.
He sighed. Ran his hand down her back as he continued to stir inside her. "All right," he said against the part in her unbound hair. "I'll use the damn poultice."
Despite herself, Abby giggled.
Chapter 30
He did not sleep, but watched as-somewhere between the time when the stars shone at their brightest and the first brush of pink appeared across the horizon-Abigail drifted into slumber. Faint rays of sunlight glanced off her naked shoulder and across the exposed curve of her cheek. She moved only once while he stroked the line of her back and brushed his fingers through the soft tendrils of her hair, to smile and snuggle deeper into his chest.
"Calvin, " she had said no more than two hours before, "I love you. "
The three words may have been taken for granted by another, but to a man who had never had them spoken to him before they were a precious gift beyond compare. He held to Abigail's confession as tightly as he did the soft curves of her body throughout the night. More times than he could count, as he remembered her breathless whisper against the wall of his chest, he found himself grinning stu pidly at the ceiling. As dawn broke across the horizon, however, the grim reality of his situation set in and he knew what he had to do.
Calvin only hoped Abigail's sudden love for him did not turn quickly to hate.
"Abby ..." He trailed the tips of his fingers up her smooth spine, squeezed her shoulder. "Abby, love, wake up."
She moved only to press her face further into his chest.
"It's important, Abigail." He tugged on her shoulder, laying her back into the pillowcases until she was blinking blurrily up at the ceiling.
Her eyes gleamed like gemstones as they moved to meet his. Her brows drew together as she asked sleepily, "Are you all right, Calvin? Does your head hurt?"
Her concern squeezed at his heart, and his gaze dropped momentarily to where the bedclothes fit snug across her breasts. "My head is fine."
There was a smile in Abigail's voice. "I told you the poultice would work."
His eyes met hers again. "There's something I have to tell you."
"Oh?" Her lashes drew together slightly as she inspected the lines of his face. "What is it?"
He swallowed, finding it most difficult to look at her like this, with her hair fanned out on the pillow around her, lips and the upper curves of her breasts still flushed from his lovemaking. "Firstly, let me sa
y that I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. You ... you are everything in the world to me, Abby. It is important you remember that. I've never met anyone like you in all my life. As a matter of fact, you are the only woman I've ever-
There was no warning, as if the woman had flown over the stairs and soared to the door, forgoing the delay of walking. The door crashed open, hitting the inside wall of the bedchamber, and Margot appeared-wild-eyed, her unbound hair sticking out around her.
"A carriage comes up the drive, Lady Abby!" The second came out a horrified whisper, "Your brother."
"Oh no." Abby's eyes went wide as she shot upright amidst the tangled bedclothes, peered down the length of herself and then the breadth of Calvin's bare chest.
"Bloody hell." Calvin acted quickly. He climbed out of bed and reached for his breeches.
"Her brace!" Margot looked away quickly, searching the room for the contraption.
"No time." Without bothering to button his pants, Calvin drew the sheets around Abigail and swung her into his arms. She released a startled squeak before linking her arms around his neck.
Margot led the way across the hall, throwing open Abigail's bedchamber door much the same way as she had Calvin's.
He took her to her own bed, not without noting the sound of knocking from downstairs. She bounced when he dropped her atop the mattress, eyes still wide.
Calvin paused only to press a brief kiss to the place between her brows before turning back to his on room, never imagining the kiss would be their last.
He was aware of Margot disappearing into her employer's bedchamber, closing the door after her. He left his own open as he fished out his boots. He was tucking the tails of the shirt he had worn the night before into his breeches when Thomas bounded up the stairs.
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