Chapter Twenty-Five

Rebecca reeled back as she burst into the hall, and threw up an arm up to cover her nose and mouth. The hall had turned into a hellscape. Flames licked and climbed every wall, every tapestry, every corner, and dark smoke curled in thick clouds. Beams and floors had crashed down from above, blocking the main entrance and the doors to the other rooms.

Coughing, her eyes stinging, she glimpsed Francis, unconscious, trapped under a smouldering pile of floorboards a few feet away. Time seemed to stop then, as Rebecca hesitated. She could leave him there. Pretend never to have seen him at all. Her nightmare would be over. Justice would be served. She’d heard what he said about the others.

That is not justice. That is vengeance.

And though one nightmare might end, another would begin. Her guilt, it would follow her always, and taint the rest of her life.

You don’t get to escape so easily.

Tossing away the pistol, Rebecca tore away strips of her petticoat and wrapped her hands as she slid over to where he was.

‘Rebecca!’ Liam shouted, appearing beside her, wrapping his own hands in his jacket. ‘Where are the others?’

‘Safe!’

‘If the entire edifice was not on the verge of collapse, I would chastise you for this folly!’

‘Hurry and you can do so later!’ she shouted back, as they both began liberating Mellors.

‘He isn’t worth it,’ Liam grumbled when they had freed him, shaking his prickling hands.

‘He isn’t worth the price if we don’t.’

Liam nodded and grabbed hold of Mellors’s arms, dragging him away from the growing inferno the hall had become.

‘Together,’ Rebecca protested, when he moved to sling the Viscount over his shoulder.

He relented. Only because, loath as he was to admit it, he wasn’t at his best, and he knew that if he fell behind, Rebecca would stay.

They each threw one of Mellors’s arms around their necks, and dragged him through the house. Together they raced through to the conservatory, the smoke blinding and suffocating, the flames flickering at their clothes and hair, singeing them as they ran.

The rush of air from the conservatory fuelled the fire behind them as they burst in, the flames chasing them as they ran towards the doors to the park.

Just as they thought they might not make it, the doors were there before them. They flew out into the fresh, clean, cold air, gasping for breath, their eyes adjusting to the bright, smokeless surroundings. Onwards they ran still, distancing themselves quickly from the scorching blaze.

It was then that they heard the rumbling, ominous and louder than twenty thunderstorms. They stopped, turned and stared speechless, as the East Tower crumbled, falling in on itself and tumbling down with a mighty roar through the roof.

The blast of hot, smoky air that followed threw them back even further, and Rebecca felt more lost than she had ever before.

‘Rebecca,’ Liam croaked. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No, I’m fine... Are you?’ she asked, slowly coming back from the daze she had sunk into.

She’d been so scared, terrified of losing him and the others... She’d done what she’d had to, without succumbing to her emotions, but now they all came crashing down on her.

I could’ve lost him. I could’ve lost them all.

‘Are you injured?’

‘A bump on the head, a bit singed and some sore ribs,’ he said, shrugging away as she reached for him. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

Rebecca nodded despondently and shifted Mellors’s weight on her shoulders, gripping the worm’s wrist tightly, lest he rouse and try to slither away. She couldn’t blame Liam for wanting nothing more to do with her. He’d just been attacked, kidnapped, nearly murdered, and now his home was burning brightly before their eyes.

All because of her.

‘The others will be out on the drive,’ she said, pushing away the utter despair which threatened yet again to overwhelm her. ‘Lizzie went to get help.’

‘Let us deal with this, then,’ Liam said fiercely. ‘Before the pond scum wakes.’

And so, they began to make their way around the house, keeping a very wide, safe distance, looking like strange demons, singed and sooty, born themselves of the blaze.

Though Rebecca tried her best not to look directly at the destruction she’d wrought upon Thornhallow Hall, she could do little to avoid it as they made their way around. The fire illuminated the landscape, the red-orange light dancing and multiplied tenfold by the frost. Gigantic shadows gesticulated across the land, and the roar of the crumbling house was deafening in the evening’s silence.

As for the setting sun, it only emphasised the whole terrible sight.

Perhaps I have died and this is hell... It surely looks, sounds and smells like it.

As best she could, with both her hands still supporting her tormentor, Rebecca furiously wiped away the tears that fell across her cheeks, quickening her pace so they could put an end to all this as soon as possible.

At least Liam was safe. At least she’d made it in time. He could rebuild. Start a new life. He may never forgive her for what she had inflicted upon him and his house, the wreck she’d made of his life. But at least she’d saved him and the others.

Shouts and screams brought her back harshly to reality, and through the cloud of smoke ahead she spotted Mrs Murray and Gregory, rushing towards her.

‘Thank the Lord above!’ the cook screamed, flapping like a mother hen. ‘Mrs Hardwicke! Master!’

Rebecca felt a pang as she watched Mrs Murray’s eyes scan them both, noting their injuries with winces of her own, barely able to restrain herself, it seemed, from pulling them into her embrace.

Her eyes narrowed, as did Gregory’s, when they realised who hung limply between Liam and Rebecca.

‘Is Ford come?’ Liam asked rather harshly, marching on towards the drive.

‘Yes. He’s there by the cart, with Mellors’s brutes,’ Gregory bit out reproachfully when Mrs Murray seemed near to tears.

Eyes ahead, they marched on towards the magistrate, a tall, rail-thin but fierce-looking man, well into his middle age. They ignored the rest of the staff, who at least had been seen to, covered in blankets and carrying mugs of tea as they were.

The magistrate turned away from Mellors’s men, and met them halfway. ‘My lord—’

‘In a moment,’ Liam said, continuing past Ford to drop Mellors by the cart. ‘If you would be so kind as to restrain him.’

Blinking, the magistrate stared for a moment, then came to and did as Liam bade, signalling to a few of the nearby men to keep an eye.

‘Fetch Dr Sims,’ he instructed one of them. ‘My lord—’

Liam raised his hand and turned away, making directly for the immense line of people that wound around the house to the well. Half the village must have been there, passing along buckets of water, attempting to delay the flames’ progress, their carts and horses lined up along the drive.

‘Enough!’ he shouted, turning everyone’s heads, stopping them in their tracks. ‘Thank you for coming to Thornhallow’s aide, but that is enough. The house is lost.’

Everyone exchanged looks of confusion and disbelief, most staring at Liam as though he had lost his wits.

Rebecca clenched her jaw when she spotted Bradley, Tim and Mr Brown, who had been leading the effort. The look on their faces said it all: their hope, their home, their world, it was all lost now.

Because of me.

‘It’s all right, lads,’ Bradley said, setting down his bucket. ‘Nothing more to be done now. Off you go back home, then.’

Confounded by the mad-looking Earl’s behaviour, but unsure of what else to do, the villagers slowly dropped their buckets, disbanded and began making their way back, grumbling and muttering their confusion as they did.

A few passed by the huddled staff, offering them rooms for the night or hot food. They did not quite know what to say, other than to express their thanks, shocked as they were by the reality of their situation, their imminent future still uncertain.

Right now it seemed all they could do was wait.

Wait and see what would become of them.

Wait, whilst the house which had been their home burned brightly before them, a haunting, fittingly violent end to the house which had for so long been at the centre of so many terrible tales.

‘My lord, a word, if you please,’ Ford said reproachfully as Liam strode back towards him.

There was a grim expression on his face, though he nonetheless tossed him a blanket. Liam wrapped it eagerly around his shoulders; shock had set in, and he’d begun shivering.

Shock at having been nearly killed, and at the thought that he might never live to right his wrongs, nor see Rebecca again. That she might be subjected to a harrowing future at Mellors’s hands because of his failures. And, if he was honest with himself, that she had saved him.

He glanced around for her, found her tucked into the care of the rest of his staff—family—and Dr Sims, and felt a little of the weight in his chest lift.

‘I have already spoken to your household,’ Ford continued, a frown creasing his brow as he studied the oddly calm Earl. ‘They have advised they were attacked and bound by two men known to work for Viscount Rochesdale. Those men were eventually subdued and restrained with the help of your housekeeper, whose rather timely arrival ensured the staff’s escape. I have also spoken to these men, who have confessed their crimes—though they did make it immutably clear that they were only following orders, and that the Viscount was the one who orchestrated this whole disaster.’

Liam nodded, and the magistrate sighed.

‘This is to do with what you came to see me about, my lord?’

‘Yes. Mellors was here, intent on murdering me and my staff. I think that clarifies our next steps considerably, don’t you agree?’

Ford sighed again, heavily, though he nodded grimly after a moment. Arresting and making a case for the conviction of a peer of the realm was not to be treated lightly.

‘I only need you to keep him contained until I can make further arrangements,’ Liam reassured him. ‘I will engage the best legal minds and the fiercest guards. We’ll get him to London, and before the House before he can even think to try and weasel his way out of this.’

‘I will prepare the battlefield as best I can,’ Ford said, resolve in his gaze. ‘Speak to Mrs Hardwicke and the other staff about today’s events, as well as her personal history with His Lordship over there, and get written statements. I will also ensure I get the confessions from these vermin,’ he spat, gesturing towards Mellors’s men. ‘In writing. We’ll ensure you have everything you need to make a case.’

‘There have been others,’ Liam said gravely.

Ford’s jaw ticked as he regarded Liam carefully for a long moment.

‘I didn’t... I know you, Ford,’ he continued, realising what he’d implied. ‘You’re a good man. An honest man. Not one who would forgo the truth to preserve reputations.’

Ford’s gaze softened.

‘I mention it only as I hope you can look into the matter. I will hire others, but here...you are trusted. People might talk to you when they might not to a stranger.’

‘Of course. I will speak to Mrs Hardwicke first, I think,’ Ford said after a moment. ‘And then see this refuse removed from your land.’

‘Thank you.’

Ford strode off towards Rebecca, Liam following slowly behind. As the magistrate took her aside, Liam wandered over to his staff—family—and made his apologies for his earlier behaviour. He’d barely finished before they forewent all propriety and passed him around for embraces, tears flowing generously.

The doctor saw to cleaning up his wounds, and soon he was just as bundled as them all, with tea in hand, and he told them of his talk with Ford, and their plans.

As they digested the news in silence, too amazed to formulate any questions, Liam watched Rebecca discussing matters with the magistrate, as composed as ever despite everything that had happened. She really was an extraordinary woman, his love.

Love.

Yes, that’s what it was. The revelation hit him with dizzying strength, and he smiled beatifically, like some witless dunce. How blind, how stubborn he’d been, indeed. Denying the simple, obvious truth; concealing it behind notions of comfort and passion. She had captured his soul the first night he’d found her in the library. Every time he’d been presented with the idea of losing her, he had found himself unable to face it. Why? Because she was his friend? Because he felt he owed her a debt? Because she had breathed life back into him and shared his bed?

What an utter imbecile I have been...

Unwillingly, unwittingly, Rebecca had become part of him. Her flesh, her being, her soul, woven into his. And he, at every turn, had refused to recognise that. Had refused to see the blatant truth, even as he knew her to be mistress of his heart. He loved her with everything he was. She had awoken him, given him hope of a future he’d thought long-lost.

Rebecca glanced over at him, and a frown appeared on her face before she turned back to Ford. Liam realised he still stood there, smiling like an idiot.

Drat.

What must she think now? He had behaved badly—that much was certain. Even as she’d risked her life to save him, even as they’d escaped with their lives, what had he done but stand there and ask her if she was hurt? No demonstrations of relief, not even any thanks. He had not taken her into his arms, shown her what he felt at that moment, expressed the love that he may not have known he felt, but that he most certainly did feel. What had he done but recoil from her touch?

True, Mellors had been between them, but really, he should have tossed the sorry excuse of a man to the ground and shown her what was in his heart.

Damnation...

He may have inadvertently broken that which he held most precious.

Again.

There would be much begging in his future.

So long as she is, too.

If the day had taught him anything, it was that he’d already wasted far too much time. Missed far too many opportunities to seize the happiness life had seen fit to offer him.

Ford was extending his hand to Rebecca now. With a smile, she took it, and then the magistrate was coming back towards him.

Finally, Liam thought, feeling as though he couldn’t get back to her quickly enough.

‘Mrs Hardwicke and I have had a most promising conversation,’ Ford said. ‘I have reassured her, I think, that Mellors will never be a threat to her or to anyone else again.’

William Reid, you are an ass.

Thank God Ford, at least, had seen to reassuring her. In all the turmoil, Liam had never quite thought to tell her she would have her life back, if it was the last thing he did.

‘Thank you, Ford,’ Liam said, offering his hand.

‘You and your staff are welcome at Heathfield, for however long is needed. I will leave you now, but I will send word to my wife that we will be expecting guests...?’

‘Again, thank you, Ford. Your kindness is very much appreciated. Until later, then.’

‘Until later, my lord.’

With that, Ford marched away, mounted his horse and made his way down the drive, followed by the cart bearing a still-unconscious Mellors and his restrained associates.

Liam turned to his little army of staff, all gathered now to watch the continued destruction of their home and livelihood. Their faces bore more sadness and regret at the loss of Thornhallow than he himself could ever feel. For now, he finally felt that he could look towards the future, and hope for happiness.

And there is no more time to waste...