by Jo Beverley
When Sophie opened the door into the house, she realized her words had been true. Glebe House was on fire. She had never been involved in a fire before, and it was terrifying how quickly it was spreading. The long passageway leading down to the hall was already swirling with wisps of smoke. She could hear the crackle and roar of flames. Where were the men?
At that moment she saw Randal in the hall and called his name. He ran toward her and caught her into a crushing embrace. “God, Sophie...” She held him just as tight. Even in the urgency of the situation she just wanted to hold him and never let him go.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”
“The older man’s dead but the young one is getting away...”
“Let him,” she said, coughing as the smoke began to thicken. “He saved me. Let’s go, Randal. The house will be down about our ears. Where are the others?”
“Lady Hever went upstairs. Marius followed to try and rescue her and Verderan went to stop him. Come on,” he said, heading back to the hall. “It’s safe enough yet and they may need help.”
The swirling smoke made her cough again but it was up near the ceiling as yet. The dining room door was shut but beginning to blister. It would not hold much longer. They prudently took a position by the front door. “Ver. Marius,” Randal bellowed over the roar of the fire. “Come on!”
In a moment the two men came running down the stairs. “The damned woman’s found a pistol somewhere,” gasped Verderan. “I finally persuaded our chivalrous baronet she wasn’t worth dying for.”
Randal swung open the front door and they all ran out, coughing, into the fresh air and sunshine. Flames were shooting out of the dining room window now. With a whoosh, the dining room door burst open, shooting fire all over the hall.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” asked Sophie, still firmly in Randal’s arms.
“What?” Randal replied. “When the smoke’s noticed someone will probably come, but from what I’ve seen I think it’s better this place be allowed to burn.”
“Yes,” Sophie said with a shudder, clutching at his strong arms. “She had shrines to Edwin everywhere, and all his things... Randal, she even has a full-sized dummy of him in his dressing room—”
She broke off as she saw Lady Hever through the smoke staggering down the stairs with the wax dummy clasped in her arms.
“My God,” said Randal, for at this distance, it was frighteningly realistic. It even seemed to move, to lean closer to the woman. Then Sophie realized it was softening in the heat of the fire which was now licking at the stairs themselves. The woman seemed completely unaware of her danger.
Marius moved forward but Verderan brought him crashing down in an efficient tackle. The two men were fighting over it when Randal set Sophie aside and ran forward.
“No!” she screamed and grabbed at the tail of his jacket. It slipped through her fingers, and she called after him as he ran toward the flaming house.
Lady Hever looked up and saw them. She dropped the dummy so it sprawled soggily on the smoldering stairs, took a pistol from her pocket and fired. Randal fell into the dirt.
Sophie rushed forward but he was already scrambling to his feet. “Didn’t touch me. Just instinct.” He would have gone toward the house again but at that moment the stair carpet caught fire and both Lady Hever and her treasure were engulfed in flames.
Sophie saw Edith Hever, the effigy once more in her arms, scream as the flames reached her. As Edwin melted over his mother, Sophie fainted.
She came to in Randal’s arms, in a field far away from smoke and death.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Half a mile or so away from the fire,” he said, stroking her back gently. “We decided it would be simpler not to be around when anyone turned up.” He drew her closer and his cherishing hold spoke of his concern and relief that she was safe. She held onto him in the same, eloquent way.
“How did you get hurt?” he asked.
“I set her picture of Edwin on fire, so she tried to do the same to me. Caleb saved me.”
“Then I hope he won free.” He moved her slightly so he could look into her face. He ran his fingers gently down her cheek and rubbed gently at one spot. “You have smut,” he said calmly then rested his head against hers. “I’ve died a thousand deaths since I realized you were missing.”
In a moment he carried on more composedly. “Marius has gone to get some kind of carriage for you. Your leg must hurt.”
“Yes,” she said, becoming aware of the pain.
“Verderan’s gone in search of water. We’ll bind your leg with cold cloths. Will you be able to bear it like that until we’re away from here? If not we’ll just go to the nearest village and find a doctor and to hell with the questions.”
She’d spent a large part of her childhood being brave at his careless request and the habit held. Verderan soon came back from a nearby farmhouse with a bucket of cold water. He and Randal sacrificed their cravats and Randal laid them, cool and wet, on her leg. The pain eased and she was able to assure him honestly that it was not so bad.
She then told him as much as she knew of Lady Hever’s actions and motives. “She was clearly mad,” she ended.
Randal sank his head in his hands. “So James is at death’s door because Edith Hever thought you were being forced to marry me when you really loved Edwin. And that he had killed himself because of a broken heart...” His fingers tightened in his hair. “It doesn’t bear thinking of.”
“It could be you lying unconscious,” she said softly.
He looked up. “It should be me.”
She took his hand. “You can’t expect me to agree with that, Randal.”
He reached for her and held her close. She saw Verderan had moved a tactful distance away.
Eventually he said, “What did you mean yesterday when you asked me if I loved you?”
Sophie stirred uncomfortably. “Silliness,” she confessed. “With all that’s happened since, it seems ridiculous. You’d been behaving so strangely though, ever since we became engaged, that I began to think you didn’t really want to marry me.”
His arms tightened. “You’re as mad as Edith Hever,” he said.
Sophie shuddered. “Don’t jest about it, Randal.”
He tilted her face up so she had to look at him. “I’m sorry. But, Sophie, I adore you. What’s more I need you in a hundred different ways.”
Sophie traced his fine lips. “For kisses?”
He smiled slightly. “Rather more than kisses, minx.”
She blushed. “For... for bed?”
He cradled her head and a thumb played softly near the corner of her mouth. “Oh, yes, I need you there, little flame. Need you more than you can possibly imagine... but more than that too.”
“What then?”
His fingers threaded gently among her tangled curls. “For everything, Sophie. For sharing joys and sorrows, for teasing and being teased, for facing problems and celebrating triumphs...”
Sophie felt tears of joy as she twisted her head to reverently kiss his hand.
“Of course,” said Randal softly, directing her lips to where he most wanted them to be so his breath melded warm with hers, “if we can do all that in bed, so much the better.”
Verderan studied a field of cowslips with all the concentration of an ardent botanist as his friend showed Sophie just how much he loved her.
15
IT WAS dark by the time they returned to Stenby Castle in the shabby coach Marius had bought, explaining apologetically that he’d thought it better to do that than to bring along a coachman or postilions. And, he added, he might know someone glad to buy it off him cheap.
They were greeted at the Castle with great relief and no sooner were they in the door than David grasped Randal’s arm and said, “We have good news for you too. Chelmly has recovered consciousness.”
Randal colored and a brilliant smile lit up his face. “He will be all r
ight?”
“Killigrew makes no promises—you know how he is—but even he looked cheerful. Not that you’re free of work, Randal, for it’s clear Chelmly will need a long repairing lease but you probably won’t have to wear strawberry leaves.”
“If we can get Chelmly married,” said Sophie, hugging Randal to share his delight. “More than ever, I am determined on it.”
Randal swung her into his arms. “But not for a while. I doubt either of you are up to it and Killigrew has another patient, I fear.”
But when Sophie was settled in her bed it was the general opinion that her leg did not need the doctor’s care. The cold cloths had been applied throughout the journey and the reddening had lessened. There were only one or two blisters. The housekeeper produced her famous Black Salve and spread it liberally all over the burn, promising that by the next day it would be painless and by the day after, healed.
Then Marius, Randal and Verderan had to tell their story to David, Mortimer, Jane, and Beth.
“Do you know,” said David soberly, “this all could be laid at my door. If I hadn’t allowed Uncle Henry to involve me in his investigations you wouldn’t have killed Edwin Hever and there would have been no attack on Chelmly.”
“We can’t trace things back like that, David,” said Randal. “Hever had to be stopped from his dirty games. Doubtless a lot of his peculiarities could be put on his mother’s account. And if Sophie and I had not gone meddling in your business, it all might have turned out differently again.”
He and Verderan left to return to Tyne Towers. The Reverend Mortimer had to go to attend to his parish business. The four remaining discussed the macabre events of the past two days.
As the clock struck ten Jane rose to her feet. “It is time for me to retire, I think,” she said. When she reached the door she gave a little shiver. “Do you know, I think I am afraid of the dark tonight.”
Her husband got quickly to his feet. “I’ll escort you.” As his arm came comfortingly around her waist he said, “Don’t worry, Tiger Eyes. It’s all over now.” She leaned her head gratefully on his shoulder and they left the room.
Beth only then became aware that she was alone with Sir Marius again. She found herself wishing she could have a gentleman’s arm comfortingly around her on such a night. A particular gentleman’s arm. She looked at him hesitantly and her nerve failed her.
“I think I too should retire,” she said hastily, getting to her feet.
He rose as well. “Not afraid of the dark, Elizabeth?”
In truth, after the story they had heard, the gloomy ancient corridors of Stenby Castle were a frightening prospect but how could she admit it? “Not at all,” said Beth firmly.
He chuckled. “A man likes to feel like a knight-errant occasionally, you know. Indulge me and let me escort you to your bedroom.”
“Certainly not!” said Beth, knowing her cheeks were flaming.
He grinned, scooped her up and sat down again with her in his lap, easily ignoring her struggles.
“Let me go!” she cried, pounding ineffectually at his enormous chest.
“Don’t be silly,” he said, unmoved. “I only want to talk to you and you keep running away.”
Beth gave up the hopeless struggle. “I do not keep running away. Life has been a little hectic recently, if you haven’t noticed.”
“I noticed,” he rumbled, good-humoredly. “But you’ve also been running away. Why? Are you afraid of me?”
“Of course not,” said Beth attempting to be prim. How could she be prim when she was sitting on his lap, leaning against his big, warm body, with his arms around her?
“Well, you should be afraid,” he said. “I could do anything I wanted with you and you’d never be able to stop me.”
Beth swallowed. The thought of what he might want to do with her was churning her insides.
“Why aren’t you afraid of me, Elizabeth?” he asked softly.
Silence demanded an answer. “You’re a good man,” she said at last.
“True enough,” he admitted and his hand moved up to rest warm against the back of her neck. “So why are you running from me?”
The firm massage of the tightness in her neck and shoulders felt wonderful and Beth sighed and relaxed. “There’s nothing for us,” she said sadly, “except an affair. And I am determined to resist that temptation.”
His hand moved up into her hair and stilled. He tilted her head so she had to look at him. “And is it a temptation?” he asked with a smile of delight.
“Of course not!” she instinctively protested. But then she mirrored his smile. “You know it is. But, Marius, I could not.”
The smile widened to a grin. “That’s the first time you’ve used my name like that, Elizabeth. I like the sound of it on your lips. Say it again.”
“Marius,” breathed Beth helplessly.
His lips gently brushed over hers.
“Oh, Marius...”
They settled on hers firmly and the kiss was instantly deep and hungry. Beth moaned a protest even as she reached up to pull him nearer. But then she struggled away.
“No, Marius. Please!” When she had his attention, she gasped. “Please, my dear, don’t seduce me. Let me go. You’ll forget me soon enough. You’ll see. It will be better—”
He silenced her with a hand over her mouth. “Stop babbling, woman.” When he took his hand away Beth stayed silent.
“I will not forget you,” he said straightly. “It will not be better that way. I will not forget you, Elizabeth Hawley, because I cannot imagine forgetting my own wife.”
“Your what?” asked Beth, stunned.
“Wife. I’m going to marry you. So sit back and be seduced.”
A hundred emotions surged in Beth, but she gave in to the most pressing and hit him hard on the nose with her fist. He howled and let her go.
“No, no, and no!” she shouted, when she had a sofa between them. “No, I won’t be your wife, no, you are not going to marry me, and no, I will not sit back and be seduced, you great, thick-headed ox!”
Though his eyes were watering, he had a besotted grin on his face. “Why not?”
“Why not what?”
“Why won’t you marry me?” he asked. “The rest sort of follows from that, I think.”
“You think if I agree to marry you, I’ll let you seduce me?” asked Beth in outrage.
He stood and loomed over her across the suddenly frail-looking sofa. “Your mind goes more ways at once than a flock of pigeons in a storm. Why,” he demanded, “won’t you marry me?”
“Because,” snapped Beth, “I haven’t been asked!” Then she clapped her hand over her mouth at the admission.
He shouted with laughter, grabbed her around the waist, and lifted her bodily over the back to stand on the sofa. He fell to one knee and she had the unusual experience of looking down at him.
“My dearest Elizabeth,” he said with teasing sincerity. “You have come to mean the world to me. In a few short days it has become clear to me that my life will be immeasurably the poorer if I cannot share it with you. I delight in your wit and wisdom. I admire your courage and independence. And,” he added, his gray eyes full of the promise of passion, “I love the way you blush like a girl and kiss like a woman of the world.”
Beth felt her knees weaken and she grasped the nearest support, his broad shoulders.
He slowly rose to his feet so their faces were level. “Marry me, Elizabeth. Please.” Before she could summon her wits to answer, he added with a grin, “Or I’ll sink into a decline and fade away.”
She hit him playfully in the chest for his nonsense. He just looked at her, waiting. Beth thought of a hundred things to say, but in the end she just said, “Yes.”
He grabbed her and swung her around and around until she was dizzy and crying to be let down. He collapsed into a chair and took up matters where they had recently broken off. Beth waved a warning fist near his nose.
“I will not be seduced, however,�
� she said.
“I was afraid of that,” he responded, engulfing her threatening fist in his much larger one. “You throw a good punch for such a tiny little thing.”
“Arthur taught me,” she said. “He also taught where to hit for the greatest effect.”
One eyebrow quirked as he chuckled. “I think I had a lucky escape.”
Beth blushed.
“No seduction?” he queried wistfully.
Beth quelled her own desires. “No.”
He put her on her feet and stood. “Will you allow me, though, to be a gallant gentleman and escort you to your bedchamber?”
“Of course,” said Beth, smiling at him. It had taken a little while for the glory of it to sink in, but now she was aware of happiness filling her to the brim, spilling over to brighten the world. He loved her. She was his. They would be together forever and the world was truly a more wonderful place.
As they passed through the door his hand stroked softly down her spine and she could not help a long, wistful sigh.
“No seduction,” she said, hoping she sounded more adamant than she felt.
“It’s quite a long way to your bedchamber,” he murmured softly as he picked up a waiting lamp to light their way. “Care to lay odds, my darling gambler, on the chance of you changing your mind during such a long journey?”
Beth gulped and just hoped her willpower was up to the task before it.
The next day Jane and her husband were amused and delighted to find that Marius and Beth were engaged to marry and that neither of them was willing to wait very long for the event. Straight after breakfast Marius whisked a starry-eyed Beth off to Shrewsbury to buy a ring.
Jane went to check on Sophie and found her already up but breakfasting in her bedchamber, lying on a daybed.
“I can’t move very far without all these bandages falling off my leg,” Sophie complained. “I’m going to have to play the invalid for a few days if I want to be healed for the wedding. You will let Randal up, won’t you?” she asked anxiously.
“I doubt Wellington’s crack troops could keep him away,” said Jane drily. “In truth, most of the inhabitants of the Castle and the Towers have been trying to get you two into an improper situation for weeks. Just for a bit of peace.”