Smiling sinfully behind her mask, she reached up with her free hand and slipped it beneath his, cupping the scarred side of his face in a way that made him cringe.
“I am your wife, Your Grace,” she whispered seductively. “I am the only one able to make demands of you that you must abide.”
If any man had heard such ridiculousness from the lips of their wife, mistress or even mother, they might have laughed in her face. But not Alex for he knew exactly what she was doing. She was baiting him. She needed him just as badly as he needed her. He could see it in the gleaming of her irises. They seemed to glow at him from the shadows, dancing with desire.
Right there in the true ballroom of the Tillington’s house, Alex forced a kiss upon his wife’s lips, his glass falling from his grip even as he grabbed at her skirts.
He might have taken her right there and then, propriety be damned, if it were not for the scent that evaded his nostrils.
“What is it?” Emmaline asked as he pulled away suddenly. The disappointment was clear in her voice, but Alex had to deny her.
His entire body stiffened as he gripped her hand and prepared immediately to flee. The stench of smoke reminded him all too well the disastrous things that fire could do.
And as he turned back to the ballroom, a scream erupted over the music.
“Fire!”
“Fire!”
“Everybody out!”
Fire!”
The calls came from every corner of the room and Alex watched as the heavy drapes hanging at the patio door they had come through moments before went up in flames, smoke billowing up to the vaulted ceiling, coming down like a thick, living cloud with its grabbing choking hands.
Alex froze. His eyes remained pinned to the flames, watching as the fire devoured the silk drapes as if they were little more than paper. It caught the wood paneling of the walls, melting away the paper as if it were made of water.
All around him was chaos. Yet for several seconds, he was still as a statue, unable to breathe or hear or even see anything that wasn’t flame.
Then, a hand gripped his wrist and an angelic, yet panicked voice screamed at him, “Alex! We have to get out of here!”
And instinct took over. Just as he had once done with his child sister, Alex grabbed hold of Emmaline and swept her up into his arms.
“Alex! What are you doing?” she cried even as he sprinted for the nearest open door to the hallway. Escaping out into the gardens was impossible now. The entire wall was aflame, all three sets of doors caught in the blaze.
“Alex! Put me down!” Emmaline cried but he would not listen. He would have her to safety far quicker than if she were forced to run in such heavy skirts. Many other women were having horrendous problems, struggling to pick up their gowns in order to move their feet swiftly.
Alex did not pay any mind to them, or the men failing to help them in fear of their own lives. He barged out of the house and did not stop until he had made his way down the front steps, dropping Emmaline on her feet beside the fountain.
He was just about to rush back inside in order to see what he could do to help when a voice called, “Alex! There you are. Your Grace, there is something you need to see!”
Sean’s familiar voice set Alex’s teeth on edge. What could possibly be more important right now than the fact the Tillington’s house was going up in flames and there were still people trapped inside, desperately clamoring over each other to get out?
Chapter 22
“Alex, what is it? What is going on?” Emmaline demanded even as he and Sean started to hurry off in the direction his close friend had come running. Lorraine reached her at almost the same moment and clutched hold of her arm tightly.
“You ought to see this too,” her sister-in-law whispered to her discreetly, glancing over her shoulder at the crowd gathering upon the lawn. Everyone appeared much too preoccupied to be worried on what they were saying. In fact, they were all staring in much the same direction as Sean and Alex were running.
“Stay here, both of you!” Alex yelled over his shoulder, but Emmaline had already begun to follow.
Arm in arm with Lorraine, she hurried after the men, holding up her skirts to stop from tripping. Whatever was going on, she was determined to know what it was. With how Alex had been acting, especially the last few days, she had a sneaking suspicion that something was very wrong indeed.
And when the tree standing beside the house came into view, Emmaline knew exactly why. There, lit by what appeared to be a hundred lanterns, was a devil’s head carved and burned into the trunk for all to see.
Bile rose in Emmaline’s throat. Nausea twisted her stomach so violently into knots that she almost couldn’t contain it. Clutching Lorraine’s arm tighter with one hand, she used the other to cover her mouth.
“Keep them back, Sean!” Alex ordered, gesturing back towards the women. As the good friend he was, Sean listened without question and returned to the ladies, holding Lorraine close as if it were far more than a mere friendship.
