by Burke, Darcy
Her jaw dropped as outrage curled through her. “You would keep what Papa intended me to have?” Why had her father even set things up in that fashion? Because he’d trusted Calder not to be a coldhearted monster.
“He gave me the management of it—and you—for a reason. I would be remiss if I didn’t do my duty.”
Bianca threw her hands up. “You and your duty. Forget family or loyalty or love.” She glared at him and fully surrendered to her anger and disappointment toward him. “I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t my brother. I don’t need your approval, and I don’t want it either. Keep my settlement. It seems money is all that concerns you anymore. I hope it will make you happy.”
Calder frowned deeply. “You’re making a mistake marrying him.”
“I’m not the one who will regret this day, Calder. I’m going to stay with Poppy until the wedding on Thursday. If you can’t at least be polite to the man I love, I ask that you stay away—from the wedding, from us, and from St. Stephen’s Day.”
He exhaled with exasperation. “I’ve told you I’ve no interest in—”
She held up her hand. “Don’t bother. We’re leaving now. You can finally be alone, which I think is what you want.” Bianca took Ash’s hand and pulled him from the drawing room through the inner hall to the main stairs.
“I need to tell Donnelly to pack my things as quickly as possible,” she said, starting up the stairs.
“Did I hear you right?” he asked, tugging on her hand as they reached the landing.
She turned to him, her mind whirring through her ire and frustration. “What?”
“Did I hear you say that I’m the man you love?”
All the negative emotions crowding within her faded away. She glanced down at the floor, suddenly feeling rather shy. “Yes.”
He touched her chin, lifting it. “Of all the times for you to become timid.” He laughed, then cupped her cheek. “I love you, Bianca, and I’m overjoyed you love me in return.”
“Of course I do. I’m just so sorry my brother ruined our happiness.” She straightened her shoulders. “No, he tried to ruin it. And he failed.”
“He did manage to take your settlement from you, however.” The muscles in Ash’s neck flexed, and his head cocked to the side as he coughed. “I’m sorry it came to that.”
“I’m not. It doesn’t matter, so long as we’re together.”
Ash pulled her against his chest. “I am the luckiest man in the world.”
She twined her arms around his neck. “Then I am the luckiest woman.” She stood on her toes and kissed him, but kept the contact brief. She wanted to leave Calder’s toxic orbit as soon as possible.
Tugging him up the stairs, she said, “Come, let’s hurry. I want to visit Shield’s End before we go to Darlington Abbey.” She paused just before she reached the first floor and looked up at him. “On second thought, maybe I should just go back to Buck Manor.” She narrowed her eyes suggestively.
He let out a soft growl. “You are incredibly wicked, my lady.”
“I’m not your lady yet,” she teased.
He pulled her to the top step and into his arms once more. “Oh yes, you are. You’re mine. For all time.”
* * *
As Ash helped Bianca into his coach, he cast a final disappointed look at Hartwood’s imposing manor house. He wondered if they would ever return. The rest of Bianca’s things would be sent to Buck Manor, so there was really no need for her to come back. Not until her brother apologized.
If he apologized. Right now, Ash couldn’t see that happening.
They settled into the coach and started toward town where they would stop at Shield’s End to speak with the caretaker about the St. Stephen’s Day party. Tucket had taken care of the property since long before Ash had been born, and though he was now nearly deaf and not nearly as spry as he’d once been, they wouldn’t replace him. His son was a cabinetmaker in the village, and he checked in regularly.
“We should also stop and speak with Alfie Tucket in town,” Ash said, thinking he should be made aware of the party along with his father.
“Oh yes, we must.” Bianca shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m not thinking quite clearly.”
Ash took her hand and gave her a comforting squeeze. “That’s to be expected. Let me do the thinking today.”
Her answering smile glowed bright with gratitude. “Thank you. I’m still so sorry about Calder.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for. He’ll come around—or he won’t. Either way, we will live our lives.” Ash cleared his throat as a ripple ran down his neck.
Ever determined, Bianca pressed her lips together. “Yes, we will.” She turned her head to look out the window and almost immediately gasped.
Ash bent his head to try to glimpse whatever she saw. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s smoke.”
Leaning forward, Ash craned his neck and caught sight of a plume of smoke rising into the gray sky. He frowned as he conjured a map of the town in his mind. Unease slithered through him as a shudder twitched his shoulders. It couldn’t be…
Bianca turned her head toward him, her eyes wide. “That isn’t Shield’s End, is it?”
Ash’s stomach dropped straight through the bottom of the coach as a wave of fear assaulted him. “I’m afraid it might be.”
For the next several minutes, his anxiety grew. Bianca clutched his hand ever tighter as it became evident that the smoke was definitely coming from Shield’s End.
The coach stopped at the end of the lane, and Ash didn’t wait for the footman to open the door. He bounded out and gaped in anguish at the smoke billowing from his childhood home.
“Ash!”
He turned to help Bianca down. Her face mirrored his pain. “Go,” she urged, pushing him toward the house. “I’ll send the coach to get help.”
“Stay back,” he said before letting her go and dashing down the lane toward the house.
The fire hadn’t consumed the structure, but Ash could see flames licking from the side of the ground floor. He hoped Tucket wasn’t inside. He lived in a small cottage next to the stable. Ash raced there in the hope of finding him. When he wasn’t there, ice-cold fear lodged in the center of Ash’s chest.
Running toward the back of the house, Ash stopped as he caught sight of a pair of men standing in the yard, staring at the burning structure. When he neared, he saw exactly who they were, and his fear blackened into rage.
“Moreley! Keldon! What the devil are you doing here?” he thundered, his hands curling into fists.
They turned in surprise. “Ruddy!” Moreley said, wiping a hand over his mouth. “Ah—”
“There’s been an accident,” Keldon said quickly. “Thornaby’s inside.”
“Where is my caretaker?”
Both men blanched, and Keldon responded, “There’s a caretaker?”
Ash swore vehemently as a series of tremors and twitches sailed through his body. “Bianca has taken my coach to get help. Make yourselves useful and fetch water from the well at least, for pity’s sake.”
Taking off past them, Ash raced into the house and was instantly overcome with a wall of smoke. He coughed and put his hand over his mouth. Untying his cravat, he pulled it from his neck and fashioned a mask, which he tied over his mouth and nose.
Blinking, he tried to assess the situation—where the fire was located and where it was going. At the same time, he called out for the caretaker. “Tucket!” He did this repeatedly as he moved farther into the house. Desperation curdled in Ash’s chest.
How was Tucket ever going to hear him?
Satisfied that he’d searched everywhere he could downstairs away from the flames, he went to the stairs. If he went up, he could become trapped. But if he didn’t go up and Tucket was up there… Not to mention Thornaby. Much as Ash despised the man, he wouldn’t let him die.
Ash started up the stairs and nearly stumbled as he heard the bleat of a goat. A goat?
&nbs
p; Yes, a goat, being pulled along by Tucket. Ash dashed up to the top. “Thank God, Tucket,” he yelled, hoping the man could hear him. “You go down. I’ll get the goat!”
Tucket scowled and pulled on the animal’s lead. “He’s being stubborn.”
Ash picked the goat up and was rewarded with several loud bleats. “Go!” he called to Tucket.
The caretaker grasped the railing and started down. Ash walked down the other side of the staircase and reached the bottom first. He waited to make sure Tucket made it to the ground floor. The goat, however, did not appreciate their proximity to the fire as flames were licking the room adjacent to the hall. The animal tried desperately to jump free and to destroy Ash’s hearing as well.
Ash clutched the goat more firmly and hurried from the house straight to the yard. He quickly deposited the animal onto the grass, then removed his mask to take several lungfuls of air. Tucket emerged from the house, staggering, and Ash rushed forward to help him.
“Sit down,” Ash urged, guiding him away from the structure. “Catch your breath.” He spoke loudly and clearly and was glad when Tucket nodded in response.
Ash looked back at the house as he settled the caretaker onto the grass. Why was Thornaby still inside?
“There’s another goat upstairs,” Tucket said between deep breaths. “And a fancy gent. He was trying to get the goat down, but she was even more stubborn than this one.” Tucket threw a disgruntled scowl at the goat who was now grazing.
Another goat? Why the hell were there goats in his house? Ash swore loudly—he couldn’t help himself—and went back to the house. And where the hell were Keldon and Moreley with the water?
Ash’s second trip inside was much worse than the first. He affixed the mask over his face, but the smoke was thick and acrid. He ran to the stairs and registered that the fire was edging closer. The other staircase was on the side with the raging fire, so this was their only way out aside from jumping out a window.
Spurred by desperation, Ash darted up the stairs. “Thornaby!” Ash called his name several times and was answered by the distant bleating of a goat. Following the sound, Ash found them in the bedchamber that had belonged to his parents. Smoke filled the room. Thornaby stood near the bed, bent over and coughing.
Ash grabbed the goat and went to Thornaby. “Let’s go. I have the animal.”
Thornaby lifted his head. His eyes were rimmed with red. He tried to speak between coughs, but Ash had no idea what he was trying to say.
“Just go!” Ash ordered, pulling on the man’s bicep.
Thornaby stumbled but began walking toward the door. Ash picked up the goat and hefted her over his shoulder. She protested, kicking her legs and making a horrendous racket.
Ash went as fast as he could. Between the smoke and the weight, he was beginning to flag. At the top of the stairs, he looked back and saw that Thornaby was following, but very slowly.
“Come on, Thornaby! You have to move faster. The fire is spreading!”
Ash dashed quickly down to the ground floor, where the goat renewed her fight, landing a nasty kick against Ash’s back. His body jolted, and he nearly dropped the idiot animal.
Threading his way outside, Ash set the goat down as hastily as possible. The animal dashed to join her friend who didn’t even look up from his grassy meal.
Keldon and Moreley had returned. They stood there with two buckets of water.
“What are you doing?” Ash demanded. “Throw it on the bloody fire!”
“Where’s Thornaby?” Moreley asked, his face a ghostly pallor.
Ash swung around and didn’t see the viscount. “Bloody fucking hell.” Letting out a string of invectives, he stalked back to the house and went inside before he could think better of it.
The smoke was impossible to see through now. Ash bent over to where the visibility was slightly better and looked for Thornaby while calling his name.
The fire was now in the hall, and there, lying at the base of the stairs, was an unconscious Thornaby. Ash swore again, then bent to pick the man up. Grunting, Ash lifted him over his shoulder as he’d done with the goat. God, he hoped he could make it outside. His head was beginning to swim, and he felt as though he couldn’t draw breath.
Staggering, he slowly made his way outside. Heat and smoke enveloped him, and the moment he emerged, he dropped to his knees. Thornaby tumbled from his shoulder.
Ash was vaguely aware of voices and of being dragged over the grass. Someone pulled the mask from his face, and sweet air poured into his lungs. A beautiful face floated above him with a halo surrounding her dark hair.
“Am I dead?” Had that come from his mouth?
That was the last thing he recalled before darkness descended.
Chapter 10
“Ash, wake up, please,” Bianca tried not to panic completely. He was breathing, even if his face was the color of his name.
She was aware of the others gathering around them, just as she vaguely registered the group of villagers that had rushed to help. They worked to try to extinguish the fire, but Bianca paid no attention.
Her entire world was suddenly centered on the man lying in the grass, his eyes closed, his dark red lashes still against his face. Though he wouldn’t want to, she whispered, “Twitch, jerk, do something. Anything.” Her voice broke.
At last, his forehead wrinkled. His eyelids fluttered. Then he stared up at her, his beloved brown eyes softening. “Bee.” The word was a soft croak, but it was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.
“Oh, Ash.” Tears tracked down her cheeks as she bent over and kissed him—his brow, his cheek, his mouth. Joy rushed through her and washed away the fear.
After a long moment, she sat back. Someone handed her a damp cloth, which she used to wipe the grime away from Ash’s face.
“Why were there goats in my house?” he asked. He moved his gaze from her and squinted up at the people surrounding them.
“I’d like to know what Thornaby and his friends are doing here,” Bianca said, turning her head to stare at Moreley and Keldon, who stood near Ash’s feet.
“We should go see about him,” Moreley said, his face turning the color of a persimmon. He spun about and marched off. Keldon hesitated but eventually followed him.
“Where’s Thornaby?” Ash asked.
Bianca pointed a few feet away. “Just there. It appears he’s still unconscious.”
Ash blinked up at her. “Tucket?”
“He’s here,” Bianca said, touching Tucket’s leg.
The caretaker had stood beside her and now knelt down. “My lord, you’re the hero of the day.”
Ash didn’t react to what he said, instead asking, “What happened?”
“I’m not sure how the fire started,” Tucket said. “I smelled smoke and saw that the house was burning. When I went closer to investigate, one of those gentlemen,” he jabbed his thumb toward Thornaby, Moreley, and Keldon, “ran from the house as if he was on fire.” Tucket scoffed. “He wasn’t.”
“Tell me about the goats,” Ash rasped.
“The gent that ran out—the bald one, I know that because his hat fell off—said there were goats in the house and that they started the fire. He said his friends were inside trying to coax them out.” Tucket snorted and wiped his hand under his nose. “They sounded like idiots, so I ran in to rescue the animals myself. But damn me if those aren’t the most stubborn goats.” He threw the pair of animals a glare before adding with regret, “And I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“You did what you could,” Ash said. “How did these goats start the fire?”
“One of them knocked over a lantern.”
Bianca looked toward the trio of bullies and saw that Thornaby was now sitting up.
“We didn’t notice until the room was already ablaze—we were busy with the other goat.” Thornaby grimaced.
Ash struggled to sit up, and Bianca helped him. “Why the hell were there goats in my house?” he repeated.
Thor
naby started to answer. “It was—”
Keldon cut him off. “Thorn!”
Shooting an angry look at Keldon, Thornaby continued. “It was a prank. Like the one we pulled at Oxford.”
Bianca felt Ash tense and the pair of tremors that shook his body and made him cock his head to and fro. She put her arm around his shoulders and tried to support him.
“When you let a goat into my room,” Ash said flatly, “it made a mess.”
Thornaby’s face was red, but he didn’t falter as he spoke loudly and clearly. “That was our intent. We heard you were going to host the St. Stephen’s party here.”
“Why would you want to ruin that?” Bianca asked as anger flooded her.
“It wasn’t so much to ruin it as to cause trouble for Rud—Buckleigh,” Thornaby said, his head dipping in what Bianca hoped was shame.
Ash cleared his throat. “How did you hear about the party?”
“Your mother sent me a note asking if I would help.”
Bianca and Ash exchanged a look. Why had she sent a letter after they’d said no? Was there a chance she’d sent it before asking them?
“She shouldn’t have,” Ash said coldly. “We don’t want your help.”
“I don’t blame you.” Thornaby sounded as if he felt remorse. “I wouldn’t want my help either. We never meant to cause a fire.”
“It’s not our fault!” Moreley cried.
Thornaby glared at him. “It is—we brought the bloody goats. Haven’t you acted cowardly enough today? Own up to what we’ve done.” Thornaby looked to Keldon next. “You too. I can’t believe you both abandoned me.” He gestured toward Tucket. “That old man has more courage than both of you put together.”
“You owe Ash an apology,” Bianca demanded.
“They owe him restitution,” Tucket said. “The house will have to be rebuilt.”
It was true. Though the villagers were working on passing water from the well to the house, they couldn’t keep up with the flames.