Night Fire

by Catherine Coulter

She was dreaming and she didn’t want to. She never wanted to have anything more to do with Evan, even in nightmares.

  “Arielle. Wake up.”

  She came awake with a start. Evan Goddis was standing over her, dressed in riding clothes, a riding crop in his right hand. He was nudging her shoulder with it. She shivered because he was blocking out the sun.

  Why hadn’t she brought Geordie? Fool, a hundred times a fool. But Evan wouldn’t hurt her; he had no reason. She pulled herself together. “What do you want, Evan?” She straightened as she spoke but didn’t rise. Nor did she crane her neck to look at him. She kept her eyes on the smooth water.

  He dropped to his haunches beside her. “I wanted to see you, sister dear. Etienne was very upset, you know. Poor fellow. I told him that you were a smart little chit. Pretending to travel out of England, and all the time you’d made an assignation with the earl. However did you manage to talk him into marrying you? I’ve always believed you clever, Arielle, so come, tell me. How did you trick him?”

  His reasoning was wonderfully convoluted, and she admired it aloud. “I am excessively talented, I suppose, and cunning and ruthless. What do you want?”

  “So that was truly the way of it. Do you know that Etienne was waiting on the Southampton road? He was going to be a romantic fellow and abduct you. He would have plowed your little belly until you wed him.”

  She could only stare at him. She hadn’t had a chance. If Burke hadn’t taken her, Etienne would have.

  “How much was he going to pay you, Evan?”

  “Five thous-oh, no, you don’t, my dear. You’re too clever by half now, Arielle. But it is quite true that I should receive some settlement. You really should have told me about your solicitor and steward. Rendel Hall, much to Etienne’s distress, is going to be sold. You should have told me that you hadn’t a sou.”

  “I wish that I had. It would have kept poor Etienne from waiting for me on the Southampton road, wouldn’t it? It would have stopped you cold as well. There is no money for you now, Evan, so what do you want?”

  “I don’t agree with you. Just think of all the opportunities now that you’ve wed the Earl of Ravensworth. Yes, there are many. I am your half brother. I will visit the earl and talk of settlements and the like. Since I am your former guardian, I will see to it that he treats you fairly. For instance, does he give you an allowance? No, of course he doesn’t. He is mistreating you.”

  “Paisley didn’t give me an allowance either.”

  Evan eyed her. She was different. He’d seen the fear in her eyes upon awakening, but it was gone now. She had become confident. It galled him no end. “You need a man like Paisley, I think,” he said, and he purposefully slapped his riding crop against the ground beside him. “He kept you quiet, didn’t he? He kept you docile and obedient. He wouldn’t have allowed you to speak to your brother this way.”

  “Half brother,” she said, and he saw her eyes flicker to the riding crop. Perhaps she wasn’t yet all that confident.

  “Does your earl beat you, Arielle?”

  She said nothing.

  “Do you pleasure him enough with that lovely mouth of yours?”

  Arielle rose to her feet. She shook out her skirts. “I’m leaving, Evan. You’re not welcome at Ravensworth. Good-bye.”

  He grabbed her arm, pulling her back. He was breathing hard and his breath was hot on her face. “You little harlot, you will do as I tell you.” He flung her away from him. She landed on her hands and knees. She heard the riding crop swish through the air, then felt its sting on her back.

  She rolled away, coming up onto her knees. He was smiling, a smile of anticipation, of pleasure. His expression was just like Paisley’s when he’d beaten her. “I like this. I never thought of doing it before. Yes, I like it.”

  “You’re insane,” she said, her eyes on the riding crop.

  But Evan raised it again, feeling the strength of it, of himself, and his power.

  “He will be quite dead if he doesn’t drop that riding crop this instant.”

  “Burke!”

  Evan whirled around to see the earl standing some six feet behind him, a pistol in his hand. “She is my sister,” he said, his teeth gritted. “She was never disciplined by her father, she is willful and spoiled—” He raised the riding crop. “—a harridan, a—”

  A shot sounded, harsh and stark, and Evan cried out. The riding crop dropped to the ground, Evan grabbed his hand, and Burke placed his pistol back into his jacket pocket. He walked up to Evan, looked at him very closely, and said, “You are really quite amazing, you know that?”

  “How did she get you to marry her? Did she seduce you? Is she pregnant? Paisley taught her a lot, but with her whore’s skills I would have thought you’d have made her your mistress, not your—”

  Evan said nothing else. Burke’s fist landed first in his belly, then twice in the jaw. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

  Burke didn’t take a step toward Arielle. He said calmly, “I’m sorry I didn’t arrive sooner. Are you all right?”

  She nodded, but he saw that she was staring, her expression fixed, at the riding crop.

  He wanted to curse, to hold her and soothe her, but he didn’t. “Turn around and let me see your back.”

  She rose and turned her back to him. She heard Burke curse luridly.

  Her riding jacket was neatly sliced through, as was her lawn blouse beneath it. “Let me help you off with the jacket, Arielle.” The riding crop, he was relieved to see had barely marred her skin. It hadn’t drawn blood. He drew a deep breath. “Do you want me to kill him?”

  She lowered her head, saying nothing. He helped her put on her jacket.

  “I think I shall,” Burke said. “I’ll challenge him to a duel. That would be fair enough, though the scum doesn’t deserve to be treated honorably.”

  “Don’t,” she said at last, turning to face him. She was surprised at his expression. It was coldly furious. Because Evan had struck her? “He isn’t a nice man, Burke. He is treacherous. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  That made his anger die a quick death. She did care about him. He clasped her chin between two long fingers, bringing her face up. He was smiling. “Do you mind if I wake him and hit him again?”

  “No, I don’t mind. Actually, I should like to be the one to hit him.”

  Excellent, he thought. He couldn’t ask for much more from her than that. He picked up her hand, fisted it, and made a thorough study. Then he felt the muscle in her upper arm. “All right,” he said, smiling. “Let me get him up, and you, my dear, can smack him in the chops.”

  Burke dragged Evan to the water’s edge and stuck his head under. He had to dunk him three times before Evan begun spluttering and fighting him. He jerked him to his feet and shook him.

  “Do regain your senses,” Burke said and shook him again. “All right, Arielle.”

  Arielle walked up to her half brother, drew back her arm, and slammed her fist into his nose as hard as she could.

  Evan howled. Burke released him and he staggered to a tree, holding his nose.

  “Well done,” Burke said to his wife. “Now, Goddis, you try to see her again and I will kill you. Do you understand me? I will kill you.”

  Evan was hunched over. He said nothing at all, but eventually he nodded.

  Burke turned to Arielle. “Come, my dear, let’s go home.”

  “I hope I broke his nose,” Arielle said, wonderful spite in her voice.

  “It’s a distinct possibility. You were perfect.” He was very proud of her.

  “He wants some sort of settlement from you. He believes it’s due him since he was my guardian.”

  Burke grinned down at her. “Somehow I doubt that he will broach the topic with me now.”

  “He also told me that Etienne was waiting for me, just as you were, on the road to Southampton. He was going to abduct me, just as you did. He said that Etienne was going to give him five thousand pounds for his assistance.”
<
br />   Burke tried to look suitably shocked, but of course he’d already known about Etienne. The vagaries of fate, he was thinking. The blessed vagaries of fate.

  He walked behind her into the Abbey. He didn’t want anyone, guest or servant, to see the diagonal slash across her back. He nodded to Montague and spoke briefly to Ollie Trunk. When they reached his bedchamber, he locked the door. “Now, please take off your jacket and blouse, Arielle. I want to take care of your back.”

  “No, Burke, I am all right.”

  “Do it, Arielle, now.”

  With that tone, she said nothing more. He helped her off with the jacket and blouse, then slipped the narrow straps of her linen chemise off her shoulders. She started to cover her breasts, then dropped her arms to her sides. He stood behind her, looking at the long reddened streak diagonally across her white back. “Does it hurt?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really.”

  “It didn’t break the skin, but I’d better cleanse it anyway.”

  He left, returned with a soapy washcloth. Her head was lowered, her back bare to her waist. He closed his eyes a moment. God, he was supposed to protect her, and look what had happened. Gently, he washed the long slash, then lightly patted her dry. “Do you have a chemise without all the lace and ribbons?” One that is plain and soft and won’t hurt you?”

  She nodded.

  “Stay here and I’ll fetch it for you.” He didn’t want her to tell him not to bother. He opened the adjoining door and strode into her bedchamber. Dorcas was there.

  “My lord,” she said.

  “I need a very soft, plain chemise, Dorcas. Now.”

  He saw that the old woman was bursting with questions, but he said nothing more. None of it was her business unless Arielle chose it to be. He took the chemise from her and returned to his room. He lifted the other chemise over her head, replaced it with the soft one.

  “How is that?”

  “It’s fine. Thank you, Burke.”

  “Again, I’m sorry I was so late, Arielle. I wanted to see you and went to the stables. It was Geordie who told me where you’d gone.”

  “Why did you want to see me?” she asked, turning around.

  “I missed you and wanted to see your lovely face, that’s all.”

  Arielle picked up her blouse and jacket. She was on the point of going to her bedchamber when she thought to say, “Mr. Ollie Trunk introduced himself to me this morning. He is a most unlikely footman, Burke. Is he a Bow Street Runner?”

  “Yes, he is. You’re quite right that he’s an unlikely type for a servant. Montague doesn’t know how to react. I had to take him into my confidence, but no one else. If you have a chance, I would appreciate your ordering some livery for him that fits.”

  “All right. Does Mrs. Pepperall know what to do?”

  “I assume so. Do you mind his being here?”

  “No, but it is disconcerting to think that the man who killed Mellie very likely lives in the Abbey.”

  “Ollie will soon discover his identity. Arielle?”

  “Yes?”

  “I will make certain that Goddis never gets near you again.”

  She gave him an uncertain smile. “Thank you for letting me hit him in the nose.”

  “That was my pleasure.”

  “I did make him sorry, didn’t I?”

  “I’ve never seen a sorrier man.”

  Fifteen

  “If Burke believed that the French-painted doll Virgie pronounced was his present was a bit unusual for a man, he didn’t say so. Nor did he ask what had become of the girls’ more bloodthirsty army pursuits. “I swear to you,” he whispered to Arielle, “the last time I played with them, I was the enemy and they turned their cannon on me.”

  “I suppose,” Arielle said, “that this is just another stage.”

  “You, my dear, know about as much about these matters as I do. Goodness, look at this doll’s face. If you painted yourself like this, I think I should flee to the Continent.”

  The doll’s face was dead white with scarlet lips and black slashes for brows. Its shiny black hair stuck up in clumps from the scalp. “What shall you name her, Uncle Burke?”

  He looked thoughtful, then said to Virgie, “What do you think of ‘Wellington’?”

  “Uncle Burke. Really.”

  “All right, then, how about ‘Josephine’?”

  Virgie beamed and nodded vigorously. “Yes, that will do her quite nicely, I think.” She fidgeted a moment, then said, “If you like, Uncle Burke, Josephine could stay in the nursery with me, and you could play with her here.”

  “You think she would feel more at home here rather than in my bedchamber?”

  “Oh, yes, Uncle Burke.”

  “What do you think, Arielle?”

  Arielle struck a thoughtful pose. “I don’t know, Burke. Imagine how Josephine would look arranged artfully against your pillows.”

  Burke ruffled Virgie’s pale curls. “You win. Here she stays.” He gave the doll into his niece’s eager arms. “Now, you two imps,” he continued, taking Poppet in, “it’s time for you to play with my present to you.”

  “What is it? What is it?” the girls shouted.

  “I don’t know, though, perhaps, what with these dolls and all, you won’t be interested.”

  “Uncle Burke.”

  Burke got down on his knees and opened the large box. It was filled with soldiers in colorful and opposing uniforms, and there were cannons and horses.

  Virgie stared. “We’re not boys, Uncle Burke. Uck. Let me see that cannon, Poppet. Be careful, you silly little girl, you might break it.”

  “Oh, look,” Arielle said, coming down beside Burke. “Is this supposed to be Wellington?”

  “No, that’s me. Dashing creature, aren’t I?”

  Soon the two girls were examining the soldiers and arranging them into proper formations according to Burke’s instructions.

  “Cavalry in the back, in a sort of wedge. That’s it, Poppet. All soldiers holding bayonets go in the front.”

  It was a good hour before the English army—commanded by Virgie and Poppet and Arielle—thrashed the French soundly. Burke tumbled his cannons to their sides and groaned, clutching his chest and sprawling, arms and legs spread wide, on the floor.

  “What Lannie will say about all this, I have no idea,” Burke remarked to Arielle later as they walked down the stairs from the third-floor nursery.

  “I think it wise for girls to know what it is men do. Now when they hear talk, they will have an idea of what happens.”

  “I doubt that,” said Burke with a grin. “But they can certainly impress all their friends under the age of ten.”

  Arielle giggled, and Burke felt something expand within him. “Have I told you today that I think you’re wonderful?”

  “You might have.”

  “Well, I do. And now I fear that we must see to our guests. Are you ready to pour tea for everyone?”

  “Yes,” she said. “And I even remember that you like only one wedge of lemon in your tea.” They were nearing the second-floor stairs when she asked, “I was with Knight for a few minutes this morning. Did he tell you?”

  “He said he’d spoken with you and that you were the most beautiful, the most gracious—”

  She punched him in the arm, then drew back, blank fear emptying all expression from her face.”

  “My arm’s not broken, Arielle,” he said lightly. “It’s true, though. Knight thinks you’re the most perfect, most wonderful woman—and he remarked that you even appeared to be housebroken.”

  A very tentative smile appeared. “You’re making that up,” she said.

  “Not I.” Actually, Knight had told him most of their conversation. And that had been why he’d wanted to see her. Now it didn’t seem all that important, not after the incident with Evan Goddis.

  Lord Carver and Lannie were in close conversation in the far corner of the drawing room, leaving Knight to his own devices. One device appeare
d to be watching the pair, the expression on his face bordering on acute disgust.

  “Thank God,” he said upon the arrival of Burke and Arielle. “Now I can eavesdrop on some intelligent conversation.”

  “Unkind, Knight,” Percy called out. “You’re just jealous.”

  “It is a possibility, I suppose,” said Knight, “but not much of one. Come along, you two, and be civilized. Grown people cooing at each other is disconcerting. Our hostess is here to fill our gullets with tea.”

  Burke watched his wife. He realized that this social setting was new to her, despite the fact that she’d been married before. Had Cochrane kept her alone and locked away? It seemed likely. He thought of the new mark on her back, how it stood in relief against the other faint white lines that crisscrossed her flesh. At least this mark hadn’t drawn blood, so there would be no scar. He could envision her on her hands and knees, her back bloody. He felt the familiar rage building within him.

  “Burke? Really, you should pay some attention to your guests.”

  “Thank you, Knight. I’ll have you know I was thinking profound thoughts.”

  “What are those, pray tell?” asked Arielle, grinning at her husband.

  His smile never slipped. “Dinner,” he said. “I was thinking about the goose Cook is making for our dinner.”

  Arielle arched a disbelieving eyebrow at him, then said to Lannie, “I don’t suppose Burke will tell you, but Virgie and Poppet are now the proud possessors of military battalions and cannons and horses, everything needed to defeat the French.”

  Percy brightened at that. “Excellent, Burke. I feared I would be drinking tea out of tiny cups and oohing over little dolls and the like. Soldiers!” He rubbed his hands together.

  Arielle found herself looking at Percy’s hands, wondering how he would treat Lannie once they were married. She certainly seemed besotted with him. Did this mean that she didn’t mind what he would do to her after her marriage? Arielle simply didn’t know. She couldn’t see herself asking. Perhaps he wouldn’t do anything at all to her. She became aware at that moment that Burke was staring at her. Quickly, she asked, “More tea for you, Lannie?”

  “Yes, thank you, my dear. How odd it is to have another lady doing this. Not that I mind, because I don’t. I am pleased that Burke has married. He needs to start his nursery. Have you initiated bridal visits yet, Arielle?”