Storm Ravaged (Storm Damages 2) (Storm Legacy) (31 page)

While they deal with Edward’s injury, I fix my sight on Jake. “You’re fired.”

“You don’t mean that, Storm.”

“Yes, I do. I can’t trust you. First the incident with Sarah. Obviously your judgment was faulty. And now this. You kept this secret from me for five years. What else have you hiding from me?”

“Not a damn thing, you arrogant son of a bitch. You want me gone? Fine. I’m gone.” Head high, he strides out of the room, but not without a final glance toward Bri.

Chapter 44

______________

Elizabeth

I WAKE UP CHOKING, gasping for breath, my stomach churning with nausea. Thick clouds of smoke hang over me. Andrew lies next to me, his small body racked with coughs. Flames lick up the curtains of the Tudor bed where we lay, and its ceiling’s on fire. For a second all I can do is stare, not believing what I’m seeing. A spark drops down right on Andrew, right on my baby.

I smack at it to put out the flame. With him in my arms, I stumble away from the inferno the bed has become. The room’s no better. Dense smoke all around me Dear God. How did this happen? The heat, the smoke clog my lungs. I can’t breathe. My baby whimpers. I clutch him to me.

I can’t get to the door. Something’s on fire in the middle of the room blocking my way. Clothes, the carpet who knows? Desperate, my gaze darts around for a way out, but there is none. The room has only slits for windows, nothing big enough to escape.

Somebody pounds on the door. “Elizabeth. Elizabeth.” Gabriel’s voice muffled by the thickness of the oak.

“Gabriel! Get us out. Get us out.”

“Door . . . locked.” The inferno between the bed and me, hungry for us, eats up the space. Soon it will incinerate us if the smoke doesn’t get us first. My lungs struggle to breathe. Andrew coughs, his little body shaking with the struggle to breathe.

A wet cloth will help him breathe, I recall from some college lecture. A vase stands on a side table. I drench his blanket with the water from the vase and wrap it around his mouth. A temporary solution for I must find a way out. And then I remember. The tunnel. The tunnel to the library. Next to the fireplace. The one Gabriel used last summer so we could make love.

On leaden feet, I move in that direction and pull at the latch that opens the hidden door. Searing pain shoots up my hand, my arm. I look around for something anything to wrap around the white hot handle. The dress I’d thrown over a chair while I breastfed Andrew. The fire hasn’t gotten to it yet. I grab it, wrap it around the shaft, and pull. I whimper when it doesn’t give.

A thump reverberates through the space. Somebody’s hacking at the door with something, but I can’t wait to be rescued. If I do, it will be too late. I pull again, harder this time. Finally, mercifully the portal swings open and I face my greatest fear—a big, dark hole.

Memories crash down on me of the last time I saw my mother, the day she locked me into a closet so she could entertain a john, the day she died from an overdose. Only by the grace of God and a nosy neighbor, I’d survived. They found me three days later, crying, hungry and soiled by my own waste. But where that dark closet offered me death, this tunnel offers me life. For my baby and me. I won’t allow my fear to rule over me.

Clutching Andrew to my breast, I stumble into the passage with no idea which way to go. But anywhere is better than the hell behind me. The draft of air sends the flames shooting higher. Soon everything inside the room will be gone. The door closes behind me, as if pushed closed by the hand of God.

I don’t look back but stumble through the pitch black corridor, trying desperately to remember the castle layout. Deep wracking coughs stop my progress while I fight hard to catch my breath. Andrew’s cries encourage me. He can’t cry unless he’s breathing. “Cry, baby. cry, so I’ll know you’re alive.” My voice comes out as a squawk. The smoke must have damaged something.

I shuffle through the darkness feeling my way an inch at a time. I don’t dare go faster, afraid I’ll tumble down some dark stairway. The air on the right seems clearer, not as smoke filled, so I move in that direction even though something in me tells me to go straight. The fresher air will give both Andrew and me a chance to breathe.

“Elizabeth!” Gabriel’s voice, somewhere in the gloom.

“Here!” I try to answer, but all that emerges is a croak.

Andrew’s calmed down, seemingly content to trust me to get us out of here, but I don’t know the way. He’ll have to be the one to cry out. I pinch him hard, whispering a sorry to him. And blessedly, as if his little heart’s been broken by my perfidy, he cries and cries and cries. Clutching him tightly in my arms,I slip down to the ground. I can go no further. I can breathe no more.

Chapter 46

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Gabriel

WE’RE EATING A RATHER UNCOMFORTABLE DINNER, my siblings and me, when a commotion erupts outside the dining hall.

A maid bursts into the room yelling, “Fire. Fire.”

My blood runs cold because I know exactly where the fire burns, the Emerald Room, our room.

I take the stairs two at a time. Samuel’s all ready there, trying to break into the room. “It’s locked.”

I push him out of the way, scream “Elizabeth. Elizabeth.” I pound on the door. “The door’s locked.” Made a million years ago from hearty oak, the door won’t give up easily. “Where’s the damn key?”

“The housekeeper’s gone looking for it,” Samuel says.

By the time she gets back, it will be too late. “Get an ax, a broadsword. Anything.” God knows there are enough weapons lying around the castle.

“Take off the hinges.” somebody says. Why the hell didn’t I think of that?

Somebody—the castle’s carpenter?—goes to work on the joints. Samuel and I step back to give him room to work.

Edward hands me an ax retrieved from somewhere. I take it from him and whack at the door with everything in me. I ignore the pain.

The carpenter is working as fast as he can but it’s taking too long. He’ll never get through in time. Neither will the ax.

And then I remember. There’s another way into the room. “The tunnel.”

I race for the library, throw open the door to the hidden passage, praying it’s not too late. Light smoke fills the air on my dash up the stairs. The smoke grows thicker as I near the Emerald room. I brace to open the door, pleading a backdraft won’t occur, when I hear Andrew’s cries coming from my left.

She got out. She opened the portal to the tunnel and got out. Relief washes over me. I just have to find her. I retrace my steps. Which way would she have gone? The library is straight ahead but she didn’t take that passage. The air on the left seem less filled with smoke, so I go in that direction. When Andrew’s cries become stronger, I know I’ve made the right choice.

I find them. Even unconscious, she’s clutching our baby to her breast. I pick them up and maneuver my way through the tight space down the steps. But before I get to the library, the passage door opens and someone takes them from me.

By the time I stumble out, emergency workers are administering oxygen to Elizabeth and Andrew. By Andrew’s cries it seems he was not as affected as Elizabeth who’s unresponsive. God. I kneel next to her. “Breathe, darling girl. Yu can’t leave me now. Not now.” When she doesn’t, I shake it. “Breathe, damn it.”

“You might want to take it easy on her, Sir.” One of the emergency workers. How dare he?

Elizabeth coughs, coughs again. Thank you, God. “That’s it, darling. Breathe. Breathe.”

She opens her eyes. Another cough. “Andrew?” Her voice rasps out.

“He’s safe, Elizabeth. Thanks to you. You saved him.” Tears streaming down my face, I kiss her hand, and give thanks to whatever angel watched over her and our son this night.

Chapter 46

______________

Elizabeth

OUR RETURN TO LONDON is conducted in silence, except for Andrew, babbling away in his car seat alongside us. Gabriel stares out the window practically the entire trip. I can’t imagine what’s going through his mind. So many revelations, betrayals. His brother’s return from the dead. His sister declared a bastard by his mother. And the ultimate betrayal. His mother tried to have him killed

I cough.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” He insisted both Andrew and I get checked out at the local hospital. Our baby is fine. He’s breathing normally. I have a lingering cough. But the doctor assured me my lungs were healthy. It would just take a couple of days for them to return to normal.

“Gabriel,” I curl my hand around his cold one, lean my head against his shoulder. “It will be all right. You’ll see.”

“Will it?” He says, not bothering to look at me.

“Yes.” He’s always had this fatalistic streak within him, always expecting the worst. Who can blame him? He’s experienced the worst. A mother who tortured him, a father who turned a blind eye while his mother did her worst. But he also has a brother who sacrificed himself for five years to prevent Gabriel’s death. A sister and another brother who love him, even if he can’t see that right now. A son who will adore him when he grows up. And me. He must be made to see the more positive side of life.

When we arrive in London, he heads for the shower before coming to bed.

I catch up on my phone messages. One’s from Sebastian Payne. He’s sorry I won’t be able to work for him.
What is he talking about?

Wanting some privacy, I step into the study and ring him up. “Sebastian? It’s Elizabeth. I got your message. I’m confused.”

“Ainsley. I suppose it’s Winterleagh now. Your husband phoned to tell me you’d changed your mind. My condolences by the way.”

“Thank you, but I haven’t changed my mind. There . . . there must have been some misunderstanding. Things have been quite hectic after his father’s death,” I say to save face.

“I . . . understand.” I’m sure he does, but he’s not going to call me a liar.

“Do I still have a job?” I clutch the cell tightly in my hand. A position at his company would add a great deal of credence to my career. “It’s very important to me.”

“Yes. My head of legal was very impressed with your credentials.” He drops his voice. “Take time to deal with the aftermath of the old earl’s death. When you’re ready to start work, ring me up.”

“I will. Thank you, Sebastian.”

“Who were you talking to?” Gabriel standing at the open door to the study, hair shining wet, wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweats.

Even after all he’s done, my heart skips a beat. “Sebastian Payne. He says you called him and told him I’d changed my mind about working for him.”

“You belong here, with your son. With me.”

“Gabriel. I need to work to keep up my credentials. This would be a great opportunity. I’ll wait a month or two, to help you deal with whatever you need. And then it would only be a maximum of four hours a day. Surely, that would not be a problem.”

“No.”

I look down trying to find a way to bridge our differences, but only one solution comes to mind. Raising my head, I look steadily at him. “I can’t do this anymore, Gabriel. This marriage. It’s not working for me. I need a break, a separation.”

“A separation?” In the space of two words, his voice’s gone breathless. “Why?”

“You lied to me about . . . so many things.. Your mother, New York City, the tunnels in the castle. You knew about them. The library contains schematic maps of them. You manipulated me every step of the way. Forcing the Cathedral Arms apartment on me, keeping me a prisoner here in my own home. You still don’t trust me, not entirely, even after I told you I didn’t steal those papers.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Was anything you told me the truth?”

“If I’d told you the truth, you might not have married me. And I needed to legitimize Andrew.”

“So everything you did, everything you said, it was all a lie.”

“No. Not everything was a lie. I need you. I need you by my side. Andrew needs you.”

He steps forward, reaches for me.

I step back. “Don’t touch me, please. This is hard enough as it is.”

“We can work this out, Elizabeth.”

I shiver as I always do every time he says my name. “I don’t see how we can. You’re too stubborn to change, too arrogant to compromise.”

Andrew’s cries echo from down the hallway. Nanny’s voice murmurs, trying to calm him down.

“That’s his hungry cry.”

I whimper. My heart lurches with pain. “Nanny will make sure he’s fed.”

“You’d walk away from Andrew, walk way from your son?”

My head jerks up. “I’m not walking away from him, just you. I want joint custody and don’t you dare deny me. I know enough dirt on your family to feed the media for years to come.”

He banks his fist against the door frame, and I jump. “You’re not taking him to the States.”

“I’m not going back. I intend to stay here, work, finish my education.”

“And all that is more important than me, more important than us.”

“What about me, Gabriel?” I beat on my chest. “Am I not important? Don’t I matter? All those decisions you made, not once did you consult me.”