.
Robert had it in his head to leave for London that night. Anything he had, including his horse, could be sent for, and he could spend the night in an inn on the road. However, that smacked of cowardice to him; at the very least, it sounded like what Davis was doing, and the thought rankled.
I need to see Lacey one more time. I can't let it end like this with us.
He didn't know quite what he was going to say, nor did he really know what he expected from her, but to have his last view of her be what he had seen in the garden hurt too much. He needed to get back to Baling House, and Tabi provided the solution.
“Gwendolyn is thick with the Winstead girls. She can get you a horse if you need one.”
It was against propriety, but no one was looking, so he pulled her in for a hug.
“Thank you, Tabi. I'll pay you back if I can.”
He set out toward Baling House on the back of a splendid chestnut mare, and as he rode, he thought of what he could say, what he could do that would make Lacey understand why they deserved more than a farce of an engagement. Finally, he had to shake his head.
In situations like this, I suppose only the truth will do.
He was determined to make his case, to be utterly unstoppable when he did, but he hadn't reckoned on fire.
Robert arrived to find Baling House in chaos. The servants were on the front lawn, frantically organizing a bucket brigade, and the entire scene was lit up with an unearthly orange light.
“What the hell is going on here?”
A chorus of voices answered him with various degrees of coherency, but he was scanning the faces frantically, failing to find the one he needed to know was safe.
“She rang the bell,” shouted one of the maids, her face dark with soot. “She woke us up!”
“Dammit!”
The fire was belching out of just two windows. As Robert prepared to run into the house, he heard something else.
“It's that damned Davis; he's the one that did all this! He never left at all, and for all I know, he's in there still.”
Despite the warmth radiating from the house, Robert felt his blood run cold. He had to get to Lacey. He prayed it wasn't already too late.
He ran into the house, and he stifled the urge to shout for her. If Davis had her, it might drive him utterly mad. Instead, he ran for the flames, knowing that if she were anywhere in the house, she would be safer.
The library door was open, and when he looked in, Robert saw the books, antique and leather bound, were going up in flames, which belched into the night outside. Worse than all of that was Davis, standing in the flames as if he was immune to their heat, and behind, stretched out on the floor, was Lacey.
Robert couldn't stop a cry from escaping his lips.
Davis turned to him, a look of sheer mania on his face.
“Ah, the erstwhile bridegroom! Come to join your bride?”
“Let me have her! I won't stop whatever the hell you are trying to do here, just let me have her!” Robert had to shout to make himself heard over the roar of the fire.
“You may come to get her if you like,”
Davis said mildly, but there was an iron poker in his hand and a devilish grin on his face.
Robert realized that whatever else happened, Davis had absolutely no interest in getting out of the inferno. For a split second, he considered trying to reason with the man, but all he could see was Lacey, helpless and terribly close to the flames.
All he had to rely on was his strength and his desperate speed. He feinted left, just barely dodging the swing of Davis’ poker, and he lunged at the man, trying to grab him and thrust him aside. Davis wasn't going to go down easily, however, and he twisted, still between Robert and Lacey. He was quick enough to deal Robert a stunningly hard blow on the shoulder, sending a roaring pain through his arm.
“Damn you!” Robert cried.
“I am already damned. Now I just need company on my voyage down.”
Robert made a second desperate rush toward him, only to be driven back by the iron poker thrust into his face. He knew he wasn't thinking straight. He was too terrified by how vulnerable Lacey was, how very close the flames were coming.
Davis was a little slow on Robert's third feint, and finally, he wrestled the crazed man's poker up over his head. He knew he was stronger than Davis, and he was ready to thrust the man away, toward the flames or out the window. Then, as he lunged forward, one foot slipped underneath him, and to Robert's horror, he went down on one knee.
Davis rose up over him.
“This game is mine, then.”
Then Lacey was rising like the wrath of God behind Davis, and in her hands was an enormous leather-bound book. She brought the book down squarely over Davis’ head, connecting with a solid thump, and the man folded to the floor.
She gave the man a hard kick and turned to Robert.
“Let's get out of here.”
Robert took her hand and led her through the library, which was hellishly hot. They made it out just as a rafter came down, and Lacey flinched.
She didn't speak until they were safe on the lawn, and then she turned stricken eyes on the library.
“It was so hard to wait, to pretend to faint and then to wait until he wasn't looking. Oh, my god. My home, Robert, I...”
She turned to him, and to his shock, she threw herself into his arms. It could have been for comfort alone, but there was something more to it, he knew.
“I love you, please, don't leave. Please. Please.”
“God, Lacey, I could never leave you. I love you.”
In the middle of all that chaos, Robert knew he would never let Lacey go, and she would never leave him. It was as if all the trouble between them and all of the misunderstanding had been burned completely away, leaving only their two hearts, beating together the way it was meant to be.