Beck was on him immediately. The man was not in good health, but he fought back, his thin arms and legs actually quite strong. The heel of his hand hit Beck’s chin. Beck rolled him over, placing a knee on his back. The marquess’s flailing fist struck the lamp. It fell onto its side. Hot wax hit the floor and spread, a line of flames feeding off it.
The flame caught Gwendolyn’s hair. Beck released the marquess as he reached over and slapped the fire out with his bare hands.
That didn’t stop other flames from continuingto spread. The marquess started shouting for his butler, “Nathaniel.Come, Nathaniel.” He clambered to his feet.“Shoot them.”
Lady Middlebury had already run out the door.
Beck scooped up Gwendolyn, chair and all. He ran for the door. They met Wagner, who had come out of hiding and was already half up the steps. He helped Beck carry Gwendolyn to the lawn as a coughing Lord Middlebury stumbled out of the cottage.
The fire was climbing the inside walls. Soon the place would be engulfed.
“Jem, your knife,” Beck said. He took it and cut Gwendolyn free of her bonds. She threw her arms around him, and he held her just as tight.
“You did need me,” she said.
He did.Always.
The marchioness had fallen to her knees not far from them. She was openly sobbing.
Meanwhile, Lord Middlebury erupted in a red-faced rage. He didn’t have a pistol, but he pointed his finger at Beck. “You will not escape me this time, Steele. I own Colemore. I’ll have you flogged—”
He went rigid as if struck by pain. He grabbed his chest. His eyes widened. He whirled toward his wife and reached out.
“My lord?” she cried and started to scramble to her feet just as he crumpled to the ground.
Lady Middlebury crawled over to her husband’s still form. Beck rose and walked over to join her, leaving Gwendolyn with Jem. The man’s eyes were open in death, his mouth wide as ifhe was still shouting his ugly threats. Beck knelt and felt for a pulse. There was none.
He looked to the marchioness. “I’m sorry, he’s no longer with us.”
Her response was a keening wail. It mingled with the crackle and whooshing crash of the fire consuming the cottage. She tugged on his arm as if she could wake him up, as if she feared for him.
Gwendolyn came to her side. “My lady,” she said softly. Lady Middlebury shook her off.
Shouts could be heard. People in the main house had seen the fire. They were now rushing to the cottage to help or gawk.
Beck looked to Wagner. “Get Gwendolyn out of here. I’ll meet you at the stables.”
“Wait, what of you?” Gwendolyn demanded.
“I will join you. But right now, you must leave.”
Jem took her arm. “You do what the major says,” he assured her.
She didn’t go quickly. “Beckett—”
“Gwendolyn, I will come. But first, you need to be removed from this night. The gossip will overtake your family.”
The shouts and voices were coming closer. In minutes, this area would be filled with people asking questions.
“Come, miss,” Wagner said. “The major will manage this.”
Gwendolyn shot Beck a last look, and then she turned and went with Jem.
Beck looked down at the man he had once believed to be his father. Almost reverently, he closed the man’s lids. He put a hand under asobbing Lady Middlebury’s arm. “They will be here soon.”
She didn’t want to move.
“This is over between us,” he said.
