Night Fire

by Catherine Coulter

  Bridal visits. Arielle shook her head.

  “Perhaps in another week or so,” Burke said easily.

  “Well, nothing at all new for you, Arielle,” Lannie continued, “since you were married before. It’s odd, though. I can’t seem to remember being invited to Rendel Hall when you were first married to Paisley Cochrane and—”

  “Do have a crumpet, my dear,” said Knight and shoved the gold-edged plate under Lannie’s nose.

  “Why, thank you, Knight,” Lannie said. “Incidentally, Burke, I have met the most outrageous new footman. He speaks with a cockney accent, and when I told him to do something, he said that it wasn’t his job and anyway, that I looked to be a strong enough missus and I could jolly well do it myself.”

  “That would be Trunk,” said Arielle, laughing at Lannie’s description. “He is something of a character, I admit. I think Burke hired him because he says the unexpected and is vastly amusing. I hope you weren’t too upset with him, Lannie.”

  “No, she chose to be amused,” said Percy.

  “Corinne wouldn’t be amused.”

  “We will trust that Corinne chooses to remain in London for awhile,” said Burke.

  Montague appeared in the doorway at that moment, his eyes fixed on Burke until Burke walked over to him. “What is it?” he asked in a low voice.

  “There are guests, my lord. I’ve never seen them before. The gentleman says he’s Baron Sherard, and he says his wife, the lady with him, is her ladyship’s sister.”

  “Good grief. Well, let me tell Arielle.”

  “But how can that be possible?” Arielle said after he told her. “They’re supposed to be in Boston.”

  “We will find out everything in due time, I’m sure.”

  Arielle gave a small cry at the sight of her half sister and flew into her arms. “Nesta. Oh, how glad I am to see you.” She hugged her, stepped back and exclaimed some more, then hugged her yet again.

  Burke paused a moment, waiting for the reunion to complete itself. Nesta Carrick was a small woman, her hair a soft blondish brown, her eyes a very pale blue. He remembered her vaguely from years before. He looked at Baron Sherard and thrust out his hand. “We have met. It was in ’09, I believe. In London.”

  “You’re right, of course. It was at White’s.” Baron Sherard stepped forward to shake Burke’s hand.

  “Didn’t I lose some money to you? Piquet?”

  Alec Carrick, Baron Sherard, grinned. “Not likely. I am a miserable gambler. I think it was a wager about a gentleman who owned a dozen pigs and wanted to race them. I can’t seem to recall the outcome.”

  Burke shook his head. “Neither can I, which is probably just as well.”

  Arielle finally came out of Nesta’s arms. “Alec, how wonderful to see you.”

  The baron took both her hands in his large ones. “And I you, little one. I see you’ve married your neighbor. This man is an excellent choice. He is fond of both animals and children, I believe. Pigs, most certainly!”

  Arielle cocked her head to one side. “Pigs?”

  “Never mind. A worthless jest, that’s all. You have grown up. Hasn’t she, Nesta? A woman now.”

  “A very lovely woman. You have much the look of Mama, though her hair wasn’t such a glorious shade of red as yours.”

  Arielle waved that aside. “Nesta, you’re pregnant. I thought you felt rather thick, but—”

  “That is why we’ve returned to England,” Alec said. “I want my child to be born on English soil.”

  “But you wrote asking me to come to Boston. I very nearly sailed,” Arielle said.

  “I wrote that letter months ago,” Nesta said. “You just received it?”

  “Yes,” said Arielle.

  “Well, when we didn’t get a response and I discovered that I was with child, Alec decided we would come home.”

  “How did you know where to find Arielle?” Burke asked.

  “We went to Leslie Farm,” said Alec. “Goddis wasn’t in fine fettle. He has a broken nose and a bandaged hand.” He paused a moment, then said in a meditative voice, “I do wonder what happened to him. He wouldn’t enlighten me. Indeed, he was rather churlish, even more so than when I first met him over five years ago.”

  Arielle giggled. The sound so startled Burke that he stared at her, a wide smile on his face. Alec and Nesta looked puzzled, but before they could comment, Burke quickly invited them to remain at the Abbey as his guests for as long as they wished.

  The baron gratefully agreed. “Thank you,” he said. “Nesta is exhausted, I fear, and perhaps it would be better to give her some time to rest before traveling to my estate in Northumberland.”

  “I shall take my sister upstairs now, Burke,” Arielle said. “You, my lord, can accompany my husband. We have other guests, so you won’t have to endure just our tedious company.”

  “I’d forgotten them,” said Burke. “You know Knight Winthrop, don’t you? And Percy Kingstone?”

  “Good grief, yes,” Alec said. “This is a reunion of sorts. You go rest, Nesta.” He patted his wife’s pale cheek.

  Arielle showed Nesta to a large, airy bedchamber across the corridor from the master bedchamber.

  “It is lovely, Arielle. Just fancy it—you’re married to the Earl of Ravensworth. I was terribly in love with him, you know, until Alec came along. All the local girls were in raptures over him.”

  Arielle hugged her again. “I’m so glad you’re here, Nesta. Here we are, going on and on, and you’re exhausted. Let me get you a maid and we’ll tuck you up.”

  Close to an hour later, Arielle left a sleeping Nesta. She was looking thoughtful when Burke met her on the stairs. “Anything wrong?” he asked.

  She looked up, startled. “Oh, Burke. I was just thinking about Nesta. She doesn’t look at all well. Shall we ask Dr. Brody to come see her?”

  “We can mention it to Alec.”

  “But he isn’t the one who is pregnant and exhausted.”

  Burke gave her a very steady look. “But he is her husband, Arielle.”

  “Yes, it always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”

  Burke ignored that. “Did Nesta say anything further about Evan Goddis?”

  “Only that they had been told in East Grinstead that Rendel Hall was being sold, so they went to Leslie Farm to find out where I was. She said that Evan was very vocal in his dislike of you and me. She also said that another man was staying there. Probably Etienne DuPons.”

  “Interesting,” said Burke. “Well, it seems Alec and Knight are off somewhere reminiscing, and Percy and Lannie are off somewhere, oozing on each other.”

  Arielle laughed.

  Such a sweet sound, Burke thought. He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his mouth. She stilled as his lips touched her palm. He felt her straighten, stiffen. To hell with it, he thought, and leaned down, lightly grasped her shoulders, and kissed her. It wasn’t a demanding kiss, but it was a mark of possession, and he knew it. He wondered if she did.

  She blinked when he finally released her. He said nothing, merely smiled at her, softly touching his fingertips to her cheek. Arielle drew a steadying breath and said the most unexpected thing: “Do you know that I thought Alec Carrick was the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my life until I met you?”

  “Is that true? You had excellent taste even as a young girl.”

  “Now I am not so certain that I like light-haired men even if they look like bronzed gods, which Alec does.”

  “Ho, have I just been insulted?”

  “And his eyes are such a bright, clear blue, don’t you think, Burke? Like a Viking, a Viking chief, of course.”

  “His eyes are much like yours, Arielle.”

  “Mine are boring. I think I much prefer deep brown eyes, like yours. Much more intelligent, you know.”

  He hugged her. “Let’s go downstairs for a while. Unless you need to rest?”

  “Oh, no, I feel fine.”

  Arielle led him to the small room where she
’d met Knight that morning. In a careless voice that didn’t fool Burke for an instant, she said, “I very much like this room, Burke. May I use it?”

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly, looking around him. “I think I should like to add it to my collection. I really only have the library and the estate room. I believe I should like to have this one as well. It is more open than the others. The view is more pleasing. Yes, I shall take this one.”

  She’d started to nod when she remembered Knight’s words. What she intended to come out smartly emerged as woefully diffident. “Do you think perhaps that you could change your mind?”

  “Why should I? It’s my house, and you don’t really have anything to say about what I want to do. No, you can’t ever come into this room again. I forbid it.”

  “But—but that isn’t fair.”

  “Isn’t this my house?”

  “It’s my house too. Isn’t it?”

  “So you think you’re the mistress here, do you?”

  She gnawed on her lower lip. “Well, yes, perhaps I think I am.”

  “More definite, Arielle. Try again.”

  She raised her chin. “I am mistress here.”

  “So what? What rights does that give you?”

  “The house and servants are my responsibility. I like this room and I want to use it. You don’t need another room.” She paused, pleased, until she saw him frowning ferociously. “If you wouldn’t mind terribly.”

  He leaned down and kissed her hard and quick on her closed lips. “I don’t mind, you silly widgeon. Even if I did mind, it wouldn’t matter. You could even boot me out of the estate room if it pleased you.”

  She could only stare at him. He’d done this just to make her stand up for herself? “I don’t understand you,” she said, and her voice was an odd mixture of wistfulness and uncertainty.

  “I don’t despair,” he said lightly. “Come along now. Let’s go for a walk. Perhaps I can even convince you to kiss me underneath the magnolia tree yon.”

  She gave him a quick look, then lowered her eyes. “I shall think about it,” she said, and her voice was teasing.

  He wanted to shout, to kick his heels together, perhaps even to burst into song.

  It was a chaste, quite shy kiss beneath the beautiful thick magnolia, but it was a kiss. And it was offered freely.

  “Miss Nesta is the same, or perhaps more so,” Dorcas said as she helped Arielle into her evening gown.

  “What do you mean?” Arielle asked.

  “I mean that she isn’t happy. Not with him, she isn’t.”

  “Baron Sherard? Why shouldn’t she be?”

  Dorcas shrugged. It was a sign that the old woman had no intention of answering and couldn’t be made to.

  “Sit down and let me arrange your hair.”

  Arielle sat. Dorcas worked quickly, parting her hair into thick sections, then braiding them loosely. As she wrapped the braids in a circle atop Arielle’s head, she said, “I saw your riding jacket and the blouse. He finally beat you.”

  Arielle met her eyes in the mirror.

  “I knew it was a matter of time. He tried to take you, to force you, didn’t he, and you resisted him. You said when he did we would leave. But where will we go? Your sister isn’t in Boston any longer. You don’t have any money, do you? Does he give you any money?”

  “Burke didn’t touch me, Dorcas. It was Evan. He caught me alone by Bunberry Lake. Burke saved me.”

  To her surprise, Dorcas merely grunted, a particularly noxious sound. “He will do the same, just wait and see.”

  But suddenly Arielle knew he wouldn’t. She couldn’t say just how she knew he wouldn’t, she just knew.

  Dorcas was dusting her face lightly with powder when Burke came into her bedchamber through the adjoining door. He was carrying a narrow velvet box.

  “You’ve done well,” he said to Dorcas. “Her hair is beautiful. You may leave now.”

  “I will see that Miss Nesta is all right,” said Dorcas and left the room.

  Arielle eyed the box. Her eyes were sparkling, but he saw that she was trying to act only mildly interested in an effort to control her excitement. He felt the shaft of pain in his gut.

  “It is yours,” he said abruptly, thrusting it into her hands. “It belonged to my mother and to her mother before her. If you don’t like the setting, we will have it redone.”

  He watched her slowly open the box. She gasped as she stared at the incredible array of diamonds and sapphires. “Oh, it is too beautiful. I’ve never seen anything to compare with it. Oh, God, Burke—no, no, I can’t accept it. What if I lost it or broke it or—” She pressed it back into his hand.

  “Then I should have to replace it for you.”

  She stared at him, perplexed. “Let me put it on you.” He fastened the clasp and gazed at her in the mirror. She looked mesmerized by her own image, her eyes glittering.

  “The sapphires are brilliant, but not as brilliant as your eyes.” His hands were touching her shoulders lightly. She could but stare at herself, mute. Never had she worn anything of such beauty. She remembered the emerald bracelet Paisley had insisted she wear once, remembered again how the bracelet had fallen off and he’d beaten her. She knew that the clasp had been defective and she knew that he’d known, deliberately waiting, hoping the bracelet would fall off. But Burke wasn’t like that.

  “Thank you, Burke.” She lifted her hand and placed it over his. But then she thought: What will he want for it? What will he demand?

  Burke saw the shifting expressions and wondered at them.

  Arielle enjoyed herself thoroughly that evening. Cook had outdone himself, serving his specialties of roast lamb and rump of beef a la jardiniere. The raspberry-and-currant tarts melted in every mouth they entered. Arielle knew she was being too quiet, not at all a perfect hostess, but her guests were all in tearing spirits and vying with one another for the most attention. It was amusing, and she was quite content to sit back and listen to the rapid-fire barbs.

  Even Nesta had recovered her color and laughed at the jests flying back and forth between Burke, Knight, and Alec. And Percy was in fine fettle, too. The major topic of conversation was the ton in London and all its incalculable vagaries. Every so often, Arielle was aware of Burke looking at her intently from the head of the long table. Her fingers consciously went to her necklace around her throat. Was he regretting giving it to her? Well, if he did, he would simply take it back. She would take great pains to see that nothing happened to it.

  In the midst of all the hilarity, Arielle felt a lump of unhappiness settle in her throat. She swallowed convulsively. She wanted the necklace. She didn’t want him to take it back. She didn’t want to have to worry about it. But the necklace wasn’t the point, not really. She didn’t know what was.

  She became aware that Lannie was clearing her throat and nodding toward her. Burke was smiling. “We won’t be long, my dear,” he said. She rose quickly, not waiting for a footman to assist her. “We will be in the drawing room,” she said, turned, and left.

  Nesta and Lannie were soon in a very detailed maternal discussion. Arielle listened with but half an ear until Lannie inquired after Nesta’s health.

  “Oh, I am all right,” Nesta said in her sweet voice. “The crossing was difficult, what with my nausea and all that, but it wasn’t too bad. Alec was very solicitous.”

  “I hope so,” said Arielle. “He is the one responsible, after all.”

  Lannie looked a bit taken aback, then she laughed. “That is certainly the truth. Do you wish for a boy?”

  “Certainly. It is what Alec wants, you see.”

  “Not even Alec can control that,” said Arielle. “I think you should have a little girl, Nesta.”

  Nesta grinned even as she shook her head. “Perhaps another child can be a girl. But this first one must be a boy.”

  She sounded tremendously serious, and Arielle frowned. “But what does it matter? Lannie has Virgie and Poppet. I wouldn’t want eithe
r of them to have been boys. They’re darling and perfect just as they are.”

  “Montrose wasn’t all that pleased with them, Arielle,” Lannie said. “It is odd about men in that regard. It seems that their part in the entire situation must be made even bigger, even more important, thus this demand for a boy.”

  “And, of course, our laws,” Arielle said. “They hardly favor girls. How I should like to see a lady inherit an earldom.”

  “But surely you have done quite well for yourself,” Nesta said. “Wed very young to a rich man who left you all his wealth, then wed again very soon to another one.”

  “What little Lord Rendel left, Nesta, is long gone,” Arielle told her. “Indeed, I understand that everything, the house included, will be sold shortly.”

  “Oh, dear, I’m sorry,” said Nesta. “I had no idea.”

  “Neither did I,” said Lannie, sitting forward in her chair.

  Arielle decided on the truth. Why not? “Nor did I. You see, my first husband’s solicitor and steward robbed the estate, even mortgaged the house and all the land, and left England when I made it known that I wanted to sell out and leave England as well. So no, Nesta, there was nothing left of his so-called wealth. Had I come to you in Boston, it would have been with only a hundred pounds in my pocket.”

  “But you met Burke,” Nesta said.

  “Yes, I did.”

  The gentlemen were laughing when they entered the drawing room. Burke immediately sought out his wife. He said nothing, merely took her hand in his and sat beside her. Percy went to stand by Lannie at the pianoforte. Alec leaned down and kissed Nesta’s cheek. Again Knight found himself the lone man. He smiled and shook his head. “This is a strange feeling,” he said to no one in particular.

  “Hie yourself to the altar, Knight. Then you won’t find yourself ignored at dinner parties,” Burke said, grinning.

  It was nearly eleven o’clock when Alec said, “It is time for Nesta to find her bed. It is late, you know.”

  All the guests dispersed shortly thereafter, and Arielle followed Burke to his bedchamber. She stood in the middle of the room, wondering what she was to do. The Oriental screen had been removed that morning for repairs. She just stood there, knowing she was being a fool, but unable to simply walk into the other room.