Page 145 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

"From what?"

"I don't know. That's what worries me."

As if in answer to her fears, they heard a crash from downstairs. Not the chaos of firefighting, but something deliberate. Breaking glass.

"Someone's inside," Arabella breathed.

"The guards?"

"Are all dealing with the fire."

They looked at each other, then at Thistle, who was growling low in his throat.

"We should hide," Cordelia whispered.

"We should investigate."

"That's dangerous!"

"Everything's dangerous. At least if we know what we're facing..."

She was interrupted by footsteps on the stairs. Slow, deliberate footsteps that definitely didn't belong to anyone in the household.

"Hide," Arabella hissed, pushing Cordelia toward the dressing room.

"What about you?"

"I'm going to have a conversation."

"Arabella..."

"Go!"

Cordelia went, taking Thistle despite his protests. Arabella positioned herself by the fireplace, poker in hand, and waited.

The door opened slowly. Harrington stood there, disheveled and smelling of smoke.

"Lady Blackthorn. How lovely."

"Mr. Harrington. How criminal."

"Such harsh words."

"For a harsh man. Breaking and entering? Arson? What's next, murder?"

"Hopefully not. That would be messy."

"What do you want?"

"Justice."

"For Matilda? She was your cousin."

"She was my meal ticket. We were going to start over in Italy. She had money, connections. Then your husband ruined everything."

"He didn't even know she was leaving."

"Exactly! She died for nothing. Burned for a man who didn't even care enough to know she was miserable."