“Wherein a disaster strikes and too much is revealed.”

"Oh, my," Crecy exclaimed as they stared upon the frightening scene, and she clutched Belle's hand.

The air was full of acrid smoke that caught at the back of your throat, and Crecy was startled by the noise of the fire. The crackling flames leapt high into the night sky above them, sparks shooting upwards and soot falling in soft, dark flakes all around them.

There were people everywhere and shouts as orders were given. The inhabitants of the village had turned out in force, determined to help. Crecy couldn’t help but wonder if they’d have run to Gabriel’s aid so quickly. She somehow doubted it. Buckets of water were being filled and thrown at the blaze, everyone working their hardest, men with their shirt sleeves rolled and sweat on their foreheads, but it seemed an impossible task, as the flames simply leapt higher.

They searched the crowds, desperate to see Edward and know he was safe.

"Have you seen Lord Winterbourne?" Belle asked over and over, each time receiving a disheartening shake of the head from a weary, soot-smudged face.

Crecy turned as a voice called out behind her. "He's in the barn."

Belle span around in horror as Crecy clutched her hand tighter.

"What?" she exclaimed as the young lad pointed thankfully at the smaller barn and not the one beside it that was blazing like an inferno.

Crecy looked at the blaze and felt her heart grow cold. The smaller barn would catch any moment now.

"Why?" Belle cried, moving forwards. "What's he doing?" Crecy could hear the fear in her voice and they both looked around as Edward’s butler, Garrett, ran up to them, looking extraordinarily dishevelled.

"He's sawing through the truss, my lady. They're going to use the horses to pull the roof down so the fire can't take hold.” Belle gasped and Crecy clung to her, praying that everything would be all right. Belle had sacrificed too much, had tried too hard to make their marriage work. It would be too cruel to lose the man she loved now. "Now you stay here,” Garrett instructed, sounding surprisingly authoritative. “Or his lordship will worry, and I'll be dismissed if I let you go another inch," he added, his tone brooking no argument.

"But Garrett!" Belle pleaded, staring at the smoke billowing from the smaller barn with horror. Crecy could feel how badly Belle was trembling and could only cling to her, offering what support she could, but Belle began to move forwards.

"No, my lady," Garrett said, his voice firm and his grip upon her arm even firmer. "It's not just you to worry about now."

Both sisters stared at the butler in astonishment, and Crecy noted a fatherly light in his eyes.

Before they could remark on Garrett’s rather startling sixth sense, there was a roar that hurt Crecy’s ears, and a blast of heat so intense that her skin prickled and grew tight. The south barn collapsed in on itself, throwing flames and sparks and debris high into the sky. The horses screamed in horror, surging forward. The big fellow who had been holding them still was carried along, digging his heels in and pulling with all his strength. But the mighty shires were too strong, even for one built like an ox himself, and they lumbered forwards, ears flat back and eyes rolling with fear.

"Edward! Edward!"

Belle’s cries were horrified, and Crecy’s heart broke for her sister as she saw the terror that her husband had been inside the building. The butler tried to hold her back, to restrain her, but Garrett could not keep her from running towards the man she loved as fear gave her strength. She ripped her arm from his grasp as Crecy screamed for her to stop, running forwards as a sickening crack split the air like a gunshot. Crecy ran after her and then stumbled to a halt as a plume of dust and smoke and splinters exploded through the open doors of the barn as the roof caved in - and in the midst of it, a figure emerged through the doors, scrambling on the wet cobbles to get clear as the roof crashed to the ground.

"Edward!" Belle screamed as Crecy wondered if either of them would ever breathe again.

Belle launched herself into her husband’s arms, almost knocking him flat against the cobbles as he fell to his knees. He was breathing hard, coughing and choking, but he was alive.

"Belle," he said, grinning at his wife as though he'd won some kind of prize. "Belle."

He pulled her close, rocking the two of them together as Belle sobbed into his shoulder, one minute scolding him and pounding at his chest with fury for putting himself in danger, and the next running her hands over him, begging him to assure her he was unhurt. Crecy sighed, closing her eyes with relief and moving away to give them some privacy.

She wondered how she would have felt, knowing that Gabriel had been in that barn and fearing he might not come out again, and experienced such a rush of emotion that she had to lean against a wall. Crecy pushed the thought from her mind. She couldn’t lose him, that’s all there was to it. She’d never recover.

"Eddie!" Crecy turned to see that Edward’s devoted valet, Charlie, was running out through the smoke, waving his hat and rushing up to his master, his narrow chest heaving. "Damn me," he said, gasping for air and bracing his arms against his legs to catch his breath. "When ... when I saw that building collapse and they said ye was still inside ... Lawd, ye gave me a bleedin' fright."

Crecy smiled and made her way back towards them. She looked up at Edward with admiration. "How brave you are, Edward," she said, smiling broadly and feeling very proud of him. He truly was a good and kind man, and he’d made Belle so happy that she could not but look upon him with approval.

Edward looked at little awkward at such fulsome praise and cleared this throat to avoid answering.

"Yes, well, that's enough of my husband's heroics for one lifetime," Belle replied, her voice firm now that her terror had passed. "So, enjoy it while you may," she added, glaring at Edward, who simply grinned at her.

"Any ideas how it started?" Crecy asked, wondering how such a dreadful blaze could have begun. They all turned to look at the devastation, relieved to see that at least the blaze was under control now.

"Probably someone smoking around the barn, though, damn me, I've told them until I'm blue in the face," Edward muttered, looking irritated now. "I thought I'd got the point across, but perhaps not."

"You sure about that, my lord?" Charlie asked, a dark look in his eyes. "It was a close-run thing the castle didn't catch, eh? If we 'adn't a noticed it so quick, an’ you 'adn't thought to bring that roof in… Well ... could’a been a sight worse, is all I'm sayin'." The man's voice was so ominous that Crecy stared at him in alarm.

"Do you mean to suggest someone did this on purpose?" Belle exclaimed, clearly horrified by the idea.

Charlie gave Edward a significant look and Crecy saw him frown. She felt a chill run down her spine, afraid that she knew what he was insinuating. "He means my cousin Gabriel, Viscount DeMorte,” Edward said with a frown.

Crecy felt a rush of anger so intense that she wanted scream.

"Why do people always do that?" she demanded, knowing that she ought to say nothing, ought not to give herself away, but she could not allow them to defame Gabriel so. It seemed like every bad thing that happened could be laid at his door without any scrap of proof.

Belle, Edward, and Charlie looked around at her, staring in shock at her outburst, but Crecy was too angry to be prudent.

"Once someone has a bad reputation, no matter if they deserve it or not, it's a stick to beat them with, isn't it?" she shouted, her fists clenched so hard she could feel her nails digging into her palms.

Belle gaped at Crecy, quite obviously appalled and astonished by her outburst.

"But Crecy," she said, staring at her sister as though she'd never seen her before. "DeMorte tried to kill Edward, he almost killed poor Aubrey when he stepped in to save him."

Oh, God. If she’d been angry before, this was the last straw. She felt wild with fury, her need to protect Gabriel overriding any scrap of common sense that told her she need to close her mouth. Now.

"And you have proof of that?" she demanded, staring at Edward with such fury that he looked every bit as alarmed as Belle. "Did you see him pull the trigger?" she shouted, feeling like she was on the edge of doing or saying something really dreadful and far too revealing.

"No," Edward said, frowning at Crecy. "In fact, it wasn't him who pulled the trigger. But Aubrey saw DeMorte speak to the man who did then shoot at me right before he left Almack's. Whoever he was, he was waiting for me outside."

This explanation did nothing to calm her, but she tried to moderate her tone, finding she only sounded even more furious as she bit the words out.

"So now a man is guilty of attempted murder because he's spoken to a man who did attempt it?" she flung back. Belle took a breath, astonished and appalled by her sister’s outburst.

"There is a little more to it than that," Edward said, his tone careful, and Crecy could tell he was trying to be diplomatic, trying to calm the hysterical woman. It only made her all the more furious.

"Why do you defend him so, Crecy?" Belle demanded, cutting to the heart of it, and Crecy blushed, knowing she could say nothing that wouldn’t ruin her plans. “What is there between you and Viscount DeMorte?"

"Nothing," she said, hating the lie, hating the fact she was denying Gabriel, but knowing she would never make it out of the house if they knew what she truly felt.

Belle staggered a little, clutching at her husband’s arm, and Crecy could see she was exhausted by the drama of the past hours. She experienced a rush of remorse at having made things far worse.

"Belle?" Edward said, sounding anxious as his arm went around her. "Come along. Let us all get out of the cold and this dreadful smoke. I think there has been enough excitement for one day." He turned his attention to Crecy and she quailed a little under that piercing gaze. A lump rose in her throat and she struggled to keep the tears from coming. "We can talk about this later," he added, not unkindly, but with a tone that suggested Crecy would have questions to answer. Her stomach flipped as she knew she had said too much, revealed too much, but at least she would be gone before they could get to the truth.

***

Gabriel had spent the past few days in something of a daze. His desk was stacked with lists - albeit tidy ones, neatly arranged - and he must have written a dozen letters.

The amount of things a young woman - particularly one in a delicate condition - needed to get through a day was quite astonishing. Gabriel had sent out orders for everything from clothes, to toiletries, and such food items as a Crecy might prefer beyond his own, rather limited diet. He had written enquiring for information about the best doctor to be found in France, arranged a lady’s maid and sent instructions to his French house that preparations must be made for their arrival immediately.

It had, at least, kept his mind occupied, and his father’s voice had been blessedly quiet. Now he sat, pen in hand, trying to cudgel his tired brain into going over it all again in case he’d forgotten anything. Try as he might, he didn’t have the slightest idea what would be needed for a newborn beyond a cradle, clothes, bonnets, and linen clouts. Here, however, his imagination deserted him, and he decided they had time enough to discover what was required when the doctor attended Crecy. That was the priority and must be dealt with as a matter of urgency.

Thoughts of the child itself insinuated themselves into Gabriel’s mind at odd moments, and he had found himself considering a small girl with golden hair and unusual violet eyes like her beautiful mother. At this point, he would experience a surge of terror and push the image away as fast as he could.

Just focus on today, Gabriel. He put his head in his hands and tried to breathe as the image of the child kept creeping back behind his eyes. Dear God, what if she was like him? The idea made him want to be sick. The Greyston family had long been known for instability. There were numerous anecdotes of ancestors who had been strange at best, some so disturbed that they’d been locked up. Too many years of inbreeding, no doubt. How could he have done such a thing as create a child? Of all the wicked things he’d done in his lifetime, this had to be the foulest.

He’d been so careful until Crecy, and had denied his own pleasure rather than risk the possibility of leaving a bastard behind him. But with her, all sense had escaped him, he’d been so caught in her spell, so wholly lost in her that the thought had never even crossed his mind.

Thoughts of his own father came to mind and he shivered with revulsion. Well, this child would not suffer that, at least. Edward was a good man. Gabriel had hated him for so long that it was hard to admit it, but he knew at heart that his child would be safe and loved at Longwold. It was small comfort, but there was little enough of that in his life to be satisfied by it. One thing was for sure, Gabriel was not fit to be a father. Thoughts of what could happen if he lost his temper or if the child made a mess made fear crawl up his throat until he felt he would choke.

No. He would see that Crecy and the child were safe, that they had everything they needed, and then they would never see him again.