“Yes. The servants and village’s fire brigade no doubt got it under control.”
“Your head’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
“I’ll be all right.”
“What are you going to do with Avendale tonight?”
“If the manor still stands, put him in the wine cellar. It has a door with a lock and a bar.”
“And after that?”
“You and I will return to London. I’ll come back for Avendale once I’ve made
arrangements. Until then, my most trusted servants will keep him imprisoned and fed.”
“What will the arrangements entail?”
Groaning, he shook his head. “I can’t think clearly right now, Catherine.”
She wrapped her hand around his upper arm as though to steady him. “You’re in a great deal of pain.”
“It’s never been this bad.” It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other. He was still baffled by how he knew about the passage, but concentrating only made his headache worse and he thought if it got much more painful that he might actually lose consciousness. Instead he focused on Catherine’s hand on his arm. He thought about her silky body beneath his and the pain eased a little. He concentrated on remembering how wonderful it had felt to sink into her. The pain in his head eased a little more, but he began to ache elsewhere.
Better to simply concentrate on walking.
Eventually they reached the manor. It appeared undamaged until they went around to the wing where the library had been. A portion had collapsed and little remained except charred remnants.
“My lord!” His butler rushed over. “We feared the worst.”
Claybourne dropped Avendale onto the ground. “What’s the damage?”
“We were fortunate. Only this wing sustained any real damage. The other wing and the main portion of the house are unscathed and habitable.”
“Good.” Luke stepped over what remained of the wall near the chimney that had withstood the assault. The secret door was gone. A gaping hole revealed the stairs leading down into the passage. “Were you aware this passage existed?”
“No, my lord,” the butler said. “I’m sorry. Where does it lead?”
“To the sea. Ask the other servants.”
“Pardon?”
Luke pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Ask the servants if anyone knew about this passage. I need to know who told me about it.”
“Yes, my lord.” He hurried off.
Luke looked around. The old gent had taken such joy in his books and now they were destroyed. Luke felt an irrational anger at the useless destruction. The charred stench on the air was nauseating.
A sound caught his attention and he turned just in time to see Catherine stumble.
Reaching out, he grabbed her and kept her from falling.
“So much lost,” she murmured, and he heard the sorrow in her voice.
“It could have been worse. I’ll see that Marcus Langdon has the funds to rebuild all this to its former glory.”
“You may not be the true Earl of Claybourne, but it’s obvious you care about this place.”
He couldn’t deny that he had come to care for it. Giving it up would be more difficult than he’d realized, but it was because he’d come to care for it that he was determined to see it returned to the rightful owner. A good many things would change with his decision
