Heartless (41 page)

She drew a little away. “Poppycock. This house is my home.” Her thin, veined hand brushed his cheek. “But I would love to come for a visit … if that is all right with you.”

He nodded, forced a smile, caught Ariel's trembly smile above the old woman's head. “Of course it is. We would love to have you.”

“And we'll come back here as often as we can,” Ariel promised, her eyes glistening again.

In silence, they returned to the dining room, where supper had been reheated and was ready to be served. There was roast goose with cranberry-walnut stuffing, quail eggs in aspic, turbot in cream sauce, peas, and ginger-glazed carrots, and for dessert the warm plum tarts that had always been his favorite.

It was a wonderful meal, filled with happiness and love. Justin felt like laughing and crying at the very same time. It was an incredible day, one of the best of his life. He had learned something about himself today, something that changed everything he had previously believed.

He thought of the feelings inside him that he had discovered, an emotion he knew was love. In truth, he realized, it was a feeling not entirely new to him. He had sensed it lately, whispers of it here, threads of it there. Every time he looked at Ariel. Every time he touched her, kissed her, simply watched her walking toward him across a room.

The feeling was so different, so frightening, he had shoved it away, refusing to examine what it was. Still it had persisted, grown stronger every day.

It was love, he knew with a certainty that reached into his very bones. Today he had discovered he wasn't the cold, heartless man he had believed himself to be. He was a man capable of feeling, a man capable of love.

And he was very much in love with his wife.

He wanted to shout it, wanted to laugh out loud with the sheer joy of it. It made him want to sing. And it made him determined.

Once Ariel had loved him as he loved her. He wanted her to love him again. He wasn't sure exactly how to make that happen, but he would, he vowed.

He wouldn't give up until he did.

*   *   *

They spent two nights at the manor house in Reading as they had planned, then journeyed the following day back to Greville Hall. Before they left, Justin secured a promise from his grandmother that she would come for a month-long visit as soon as the weather grew warm enough for her to travel.

Ariel looked forward to seeing the dear, sweet lady again, though she wondered if by then they would still be residing at Greville Hall. She hoped so. Even Barbara's bitter tongue couldn't spoil the pleasure of living in the country, away from the noise and soot of the city, in a house that seemed to glow with warmth.

The long ride home was tiring, though the roads were less muddy and the journey not so difficult as before. It was late when the carriage turned down the tree-lined drive leading up to the house. Clouds gathered overhead, forming an opaque ring around a dull full moon. Thomas was already in bed, they discovered. Justin said a terse good night to his sister; then he and Ariel retired upstairs to their rooms.

“I'm glad to be home,” Ariel said with a sigh, standing in front of the mirror to pull the last of the pins from her hair. “But I am so very glad we went.”

Justin came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and kissed the back of her neck. “So am I.”

She turned to face him, happy to remain in the circle of his arms. “I loved your grandmother, Justin. I feel as if I have a family again.”

“Yes, and soon we'll have a family of our own.” His eyes said he wanted that to happen very much, and there was something else, something she had noticed more than once on their way home. Whatever it was, it was sweet and warm, and though she was tired from the journey, it made her want him to make love to her.

Sliding her fingers through his thick black hair, she pulled his head down to hers for a kiss. Beneath his clothes, she could feel his body tighten, feel the bands of muscles across his chest expand. Opening to him, she accepted the possessive sweep of his tongue, relaxed against him as his hands reached down to gently cup her breasts.

“Ariel…” he whispered, lifting her into his arms and carrying her over to the bed.

They made sweetly erotic love and afterward lay together, content just to hold each other. Eventually they drifted into an exhausted sleep, legs and arms entwined, her head nestled against his shoulder.

It was the smell of smoke that awakened her, sometime late in the night. Her eyelids felt swollen and heavy as she tried to drag them open, her eyes watering, burning, her mind whirling, refusing to congeal into solid thought. It took superhuman strength to haul herself upright on the bed.

Ariel gasped at the sight of the flaming curtains. The fringe at the edge of the carpet was also on fire, blazing little tongues of fire eating steadily toward them. Her horrified gaze swung to the door, but a wall of red-orange flame blocked the opening. Stifling a cry of pure terror, she reached a shaking hand out to her husband, who sprawled beside her in a deep, unnatural sleep.

“Justin!” She shook him roughly, frantically, her fear escalating, making her heart knock wildly against her ribs. “Justin, wake up! Dear God, the house is on fire!”

He blinked several times, his eyes coming open slowly, heavy-lidded and reddened. “What the devil…?” Groaning, coughing, he fought to clear the smoke-induced grogginess from his mind. He shook his head, saw the terror in her eyes and the flames that lit the room with an eerie red glow. “Sweet Jesus!”

Rolling to the side of the bed, Justin shoved himself unsteadily to his feet. With shaking hands, Ariel jerked her quilted blue wrapper up off the chair beside the bed and dragged it on to cover herself while Justin grabbed his breeches.

“The door is blocked by flames,” she said desperately. “There's no way out except the window.”

Justin hurriedly fastened the buttons on his breeches as he urged her in that direction. “Then the window is the way we shall go.” Using his body to shield her as best he could, he backed her away from the burgeoning wall of heat.

In the hall outside the room, she heard the servants screaming, racing frantically back and forth, banging on doors.

“Fire!” someone shouted. “The house is on fire!”

Standing in front of the window, Ariel stared out at the narrow ledge that was the only chance they had for escape. “I don't know if I can—”

“You'll make it. We both will. I won't let anything happen to you.”

She looked up at him, saw the hard, fiercely determined set of his features, and some of her fear receded. She could trust Justin to protect her. Somehow he would get her out safely.

“Stay here,” he said. “I'll be right back.”

Ariel bit back a cry of fear as he disappeared into the smoke, then returned a few seconds later, coughing, pressing a handkerchief over his mouth. He was carrying a silver-headed cane she had seen beside his dresser. She had never known him to carry it. She couldn't imagine why he would risk his life to get it now.

Then he pressed a small concealed button on the head of the cane, and the four-inch blade of a knife shot out the bottom. “Stand still,” he commanded, which he needn't have done, since she was far too terrified to move. Kneeling, he quickly put the knife to use, slicing off the hem of her quilted wrapper to just below the knees, making it easier for her to move.

“Your feet are going to freeze, but you'll be able to grip the ledge far better than you could wearing shoes.” He took hold of her hand. “Let's go.”

Ariel stared out the window. “God, it's so far down.” Though their rooms were only on the second floor of the house, the ceilings were so high in the drawing rooms it was more like the third.

“We only have to make it as far as that trough in the roof. From there we can climb down to a lower section. The fire hasn't yet reached that part of the house. We'll get someone to bring us a ladder.”

There was no more time to argue and really no other choice. Justin stepped over the sill and out onto the ledge, then reached back to take hold of her hand.

“Come on, love. Time to go.” With her fingers firmly clasped in his, Ariel could do nothing but follow, climbing out on the narrow ledge, then inching along behind him. The stone was icy cold, freezing her feet and cutting into the tender soles. For an instant, she glanced away, down at the ground, which appeared to be miles below. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she swayed a little. Justin slammed her backward against the wall of the house.

“Forgodsake, don't look down.”

A shiver of fear slid through her. She dragged in a shaky breath and nodded for him to start moving again. By now, several people on the ground had realized what was going on. She heard several horrified gasps; then the onlookers fell silent, mesmerized by the sight of the lord and lady of the manor, half-naked and freezing, moving one painful inch at a time across the tiny ledge outside their bedchamber window.

The crackle and snap of flames filled the air as the raging fire charred its way through the roof above the room that had been theirs. A loud noise signaled the crash of timbers caving in. One of the bedroom windows they passed suddenly shattered, spewing hot, jagged shards of glass into the air. Justin hissed as one of them cut painfully into his thigh. He carefully pulled out the sliver and tossed it away.

She saw the blood oozing down his leg, and a soft sob came from her throat.

“It's all right,” Justin soothed. “We're almost there. Just a little bit farther.”

She inhaled a ragged breath, and they started along the ledge again, continuing inch by painful inch. Her feet were so cold she could no longer feel her toes. She prayed she would know if she stepped off the ledge and into thin air.

Justin reached the end of the ledge. “I've got to let go of your hand so that I can jump down. Don't move until I've got you again.”

Ariel nodded. Justin released his hold and took a short leap that landed him on a lower portion of the roof, then reached up for her.

“Now it's your turn, love.” His fingers closed firmly over hers. She started to jump, missed a step, and screamed as she felt the cold air rushing past her cheeks. Terrified, she squeezed her eyes shut and steeled herself to land on the ground in a bloody heap.

Then she was in his arms, crushed against his powerful chest. “I've got you,” he whispered. “I won't let you go.” He was shaking. She could feel the tremors moving through his tall, lean frame.

Ariel clung to him, fighting back tears, knowing how close she had come to death and that it was Justin who had saved her. He gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Just a little ways farther. In a few more minutes, we'll be down.”

She looked up at him, thought how much she loved him, and summoned a shaky smile. “Let's go.”

Justin led her away from the flames, along the roof above the conservatory, taking it slowly, his grip so tight she couldn't have gotten free if she'd tried. The ladder was waiting, propped against the roof, one of the footmen having guessed their intentions, and they made their way safely to the ground.

The moment her feet touched the earth, Justin hauled her into his arms. “Don't ever scare me like that again.” He buried his face in her hair and clung to her so tightly she could barely catch her breath.

She laughed shakily, trembling with the aftermath of shock and relief. “I'll do my best.”

Several of the servants ran forward, Silvie among them. “We were so worried, my lady.”

Her little maid wrapped her in a warm woolen blanket, and another of the other women came up, carrying a pair of slippers that came from God-knew-where.

“They've started a bucket brigade, my lord,” one of the footmen told him. “I'm not sure how much good it will do.”

Michael O'Flaharty arrived, carrying a pair of black leather riding boots. “These are yours. I brought 'em from the stables.”

“Thank you.”

Someone handed Justin a shirt, and he pulled it on over his bare chest. “Is everyone out of the house?” He glanced around, studying the faces of the people around him. “Where are my sister and her son?”

“I seen 'er ladyship 'eadin' for the front door, milord.” One of the upstairs maids pointed in that direction. “She's probably round front. But I 'aven't seen the boy.”

Justin's jaw went hard. “Stay here. I've got to find them.”

“I'll find Mrs. Whitelawn, Thomas's nanny,” Ariel said, forcing down her fear. “Perhaps they're with her.”

Justin nodded and hurried off toward the side of the house, making his way to the front. He paused to speak to Frieda Kimble, his sister's lady's maid. The woman was shaking her head, Ariel saw with rapidly building fear, pointing wildly back toward the house.

Justin didn't hesitate, just turned and started running—back into the flames.

*   *   *

Thick, black, choking smoke swirled around him, burning his eyes, clogging his lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Justin pressed the sleeve of his shirt over his nose and bent low, trying to move beneath the stifling fog of blackness. Thomas and Barbara were still in the house, his sister's maid believed, trapped perhaps in the boy's third-floor bedchamber next to the nursery.

Justin reached the entry, turned, and looked up the stairs at the second-floor railing. The fire had started in the west wing and hadn't yet reached the main portion of the house. But Thomas's room was in the burning wing. If the boy and his mother were still there … Justin prayed Frieda Kimble was wrong.

Steeling himself, he started up the stairs. He had taken only a couple of steps when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. A man's familiar voice stopped him where he stood.

“You needn't go up there. Your sister is in no danger, and the boy is with his nanny.” Justin stared down at Phillip Marlin, saw the pistol pointed at his chest.