He lowered his head until his forehead touched hers. “I’m supposed to protect you, Veronica,” he said.
“You do. Without telling me, though?” She pulled back again. “He?” she asked, just now realizing what he’d said.
“Edmund Kerr.”
“Mr. Kerr?”
“He’s made no secret of the fact he thinks me a poor lord,” Montgomery said. “Had it not been for my grandfather, he’d be the 11thLord Fairfax.”
She thought about his revelation for a moment. “I didn’t like him when I first met him,” she said. “I told myself I must be mistaken.”
“You should have told me.”
She placed her hands on her hips and regarded him. “When, Montgomery? As I remember, you didn’t think much of my Gift.”
Before he could answer, they heard a sound.
A shadow appeared on the wall: a creeping creature with a glowing heart.
“What is that?” she whispered.
Montgomery shook his head, placing one finger against her lips. She nodded her understanding as he moved to stand in front of her. She watched as the figure moved inside the old distillery, carrying a lantern, body curved over it to contain the light, and walking unerringly to the corner.
Montgomery left the shelter of the kettle, advancing on the intruder as the figure lifted the lid of the blue-and-white barrel. She followed, fear chilling her.
The person lifted the lantern as Montgomery approached. In the next instant, Veronica saw that it wasn’t Edmund Kerr standing in front of the barrel of paraffin oil but a woman.
“Millicent?” she asked, startled. “What are you doing here?”
The next moments were a blur. Millicent pushed the barrel over, then threw the lantern down on the stream of paraffin oil. Montgomery whirled, pushing Veronica in front of him. Before she could question him, before she could even speak, he’d grabbed her, thrown her over his shoulder, and was racing for the door.
She didn’t have time to protest.
A whoosh of air preceded the explosion. Billowing orange clouds limned in black rolled out of the doorway, carrying fireinto the night sky. The air cracked open, deadened her hearing, and sucked the breath from her lungs.
She and Montgomery fell, thrown onto the graveled path by the force of the explosion. Pieces of roof, rendered almost molten by the blast, and shards of brick fell on them as Montgomery covered her with his body. She heard his groan of pain as something heavy struck his shoulder, and clutched him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and counted each screaming second.
Would they even survive to have a future?
Chapter 31
The ground shook, the air heated; Veronica was trembling beneath him. The explosion seemed to go on forever, forever being measured by minutes. The gradual slowing of the rain of pebbles was the first indication it was ending.
He got to his knees, helping Veronica up. They knelt there in the glow of the fire as he studied her carefully. Her dress had been singed on one sleeve. Her cheek was reddened where he’d probably been too rough in throwing her over his shoulder. A bruise, however, was a small price to pay for survival.
He finished his survey, just now realizing she was doing the same to him.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded, placing her palm against his cheek, her thumb gently brushing against the corner of his mouth.
“Are you? Your face is covered in soot.”
He rotated his right shoulder, feeling the pain and discounting it in the same movement.
“I’m alive,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”
He stood with some effort and pulled Veronica up. For a moment, they simply leaned together, each supporting the other. Together, they staggered to the bridge.
