Chapter 40
Callie smothered a yawn as they entered the master bedroom for their second night. “I look forward to moving into the dower house tomorrow, but before we abandon the tower, I want to see the secret stairway. Last night we were too tired to bother.”
“Since I never want to set foot in this room again, tonight is the time,” Richard replied. “It’s hidden behind the mahogany wardrobe. I came up from the cellar level to see where the stairs went. When I opened the door at the top, I was horrified to find myself in my father’s bedchamber.”
“That hasn’t changed,” she said wryly.
“Let’s see if I can remember how it opens from this side.” He studied the wardrobe, then ran his fingers behind one of the mahogany columns that matched the bedposts. When that didn’t work, he twisted the whole column. Moving smoothly but with a Gothic groan, the wardrobe pivoted from the wall like a great door.
Callie carried a lamp to the opening, her nose wrinkling at the dank smell. The stone steps were narrow and descended in sharp turns. “I’d get dizzy going up or down that, and the ceiling is so low I’d probably have to duck. You certainly would have to.”
“We can go down if you like,” Richard said obligingly.
“No, it’s less romantic than I thought.” She shoved the wardrobe back into place. “After that, I want to get some fresh air and admire the view from the balcony.”
“That’s a better choice,” he agreed as he pulled back the draperies that covered the double doors to the balcony, which were cut through the six-foot-thick stone walls.
Callie opened the door and stepped out onto the wide wooden platform. A brisk wind was blowing and clouds scudded over the moon, creating dramatic contrasts of light and shadow. She drew in a deep, exhilarated breath. “A storm is coming. I love storms as long as I’m inside and safe.”
She peered over the railing. “Goodness, this is built right over the cliff that drops to the lake, and it’s a very long way down. Was the castle ever attacked?”
“Not that I’ve heard, but if someone did try to capture it, it wouldn’t have been from the lake side.” Richard joined her at the railing and looked down at the lethal drop.
The night was cold so he brought a blanket out. He moved behind Callie and wrapped it around them both so that her back was tucked against his chest. “Now, this is romantic,” she murmured.
“Much better than creeping down a stone staircase,” he agreed. “It’s been a good day, hasn’t it? Particularly the visit to Rush Hall and your family.”
“It was lovely to see my little brother Marcus all grown up,” she said. “He’s become a fine young lord. Not at all like my father.”
“He’ll be a good neighbor to us,” Richard said thoughtfully. “Your littlest sister, Annie, is delightful, and your sister Jane was a pleasant surprise.”
“That was the real shock,” Callie said with a grin. “She seems to have done a good job of running Marcus’s household these last few years. As she said, marrying the local vicar will give her plenty of opportunities to boss people around as well as keeping an eye on Rush Hall to ensure that it continues to run smoothly.”
“And she laughed when she said it! A sense of humor is not something I ever associated with Jane.”
“She’s improved with the years.” Callie chuckled. “She’d probably say the same of me. I like that I can be friends with my sisters and brother. For so long, I didn’t believe I’d ever see them again.”
“Yet here we are.” Richard tightened his embrace, rocking her a little. “That location you chose is perfect for building a better version of Kingston Court. Since the dell faces south, the new house will be warm and bright all year round and the hills will protect us from the winds.”
“It will be a happy house,” Callie said with a flash of intuition that felt very true. “We’ll have three children, and they’ll all be hellions like we were!”
He chuckled. “But we’ll be much better at handling them than our parents were with us.”
That also felt like truth. “I’m thinking about the floor plan for the new house, but I have some ideas for the dower house, too. We’ll probably be living there for a couple of years and it can use some improvements.”
“Whatever you like, Catkin. I’m just glad that we’ll be able to move in tomorrow. I’d settle for a dovecote in order to get away from Kingston Court.”
She slanted a glance. “The floor of the dressing room wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“Entirely acceptable for a night or two, but winter is coming. I want a warm bed with a warm wife.” He grinned. “Fortunately, I’ve already got the warm wife.”
“All I need is the warm husband,” she said provocatively. “Having a real bed is optional.”
“You realize that if you keep rubbing your delectable backside against me, we won’t be getting any sleep for a while?”
“My wicked plan has succeeded!” Laughing, she turned in his arms and raised her face for a kiss. His hair was silvery pale in the moonlight and he was so handsome she could barely breathe. But it was the tenderness in his eyes that melted her heart. “My Lionheart. . .” she whispered.
The world shattered into flame, pain, and darkness.
* * *
The explosion in the bedroom behind them threw Gordon and Callie hard against the balcony railing. They teetered precariously on the verge of pitching over into the lake. Instinctively he locked her in his arms and wrenched them to the left. His head banged hard into the railing before he came down on top of her as burning debris blasted through the open door.
Dazed, he rolled away from Callie after the rain of shattered wood and stone ended. She lay limp and bleeding in the angle between the balcony floor and railings. Terrified, he checked her throat for a pulse and found one. Her breathing was regular, but she was unconscious and blood trickled down her temple.
When he scrambled to his feet, the balcony lurched underneath him and he realized that it was about to tear loose from the tower and plunge down the cliff. He had to get them off before that happened, but where could they go? The grandest bedchamber in Lancashire had become a flaming holocaust. Though the walls were stone, the floor and furnishings were wood and fabric and they were being consumed by hungry flames. The bed and its hangings were ablaze, and as he watched, the left front corner of the heavy bed sank into the floor as the floorboards beneath burned away.
Towering flames completely blocked the entrance to the room, and the drop below the balcony onto the stony cliff would surely kill them both. The stairway within the walls. Stone was much more resistant to burning and the old stairs were within reach.
Grimly aware of the acrid scent of gunpowder, he turned back to Callie. She was still unconscious so he savagely ripped the blanket that had been protecting them from the cold in half. Hands shaking, he fashioned a sling large enough to hold her limp body and arranged her across his chest.
He had to enter the bedroom to reach the staircase, and the heat was vicious. Behind him, he heard the balcony tearing away and crashing noisily down the cliff until it splashed into the lake. He protected Callie’s face with one arm while he dashed the half dozen steps to the wardrobe.
Gasping from the lack of air, he wrenched the column that controlled the wardrobe and swung the heavy piece of furniture toward him. He had to duck his head when he stepped onto the small landing at the top of the stairwell. The stale air smelled damp and unwholesome, but it was blessedly cool.
He dragged the wardrobe back into place behind him. He was immediately in Stygian darkness, but it felt safer to have something between them and the fire.
He banged his head and swore when he took the first step down, so he forced himself to stop and take a deep, slow breath. He must focus on descending this cramped, slimy set of stairs while keeping his head low to avoid bashing his wits away. It was frightening to move at what felt like a snail’s pace, but to go faster would only court disaster.
The narrow staircase turned to the left, so he used his left arm to keep Callie close and skimmed his right hand along the rough, damp stone wall. He estimated they were perhaps halfway down when Callie stirred in his arms.
“Richard?” She pressed a hand flat against his chest. “What happened?”
“The bedroom exploded,” he said tersely. “If we’d been inside, we’d be ashes by now. You were knocked unconscious. Do you have other injuries?”
There was a pause while she took inventory. “My head is aching, my wits are scrambled, I have rather a lot of bruises, and my left ankle hurts. But nothing significant, I think.” She drew a ragged breath. “Did the coal seam fire cause the explosion?”
“No, but that might have been how it was intended to look.” He paused to rest and draw breath. “I smelled gunpowder. Someone was trying to kill us.”
Callie gasped. “Who? One of your brothers? They have the most to gain.”
“That would be my best guess.” The knowledge was sour. He’d thought he finally had some real family, and now one or both of them were trying to kill him.
He’d worry about that when they were safely outside. He began descending again. Callie said, “I think I can walk on my own,” but she didn’t sound very sure.
“You can try when we get to level ground.” He repressed an oath when he accidentally lifted his head too high and banged it again. Carrying a not insubstantial weight while bending over was damnably tiring. But not too much farther now.
Finally he reached the dirt floor of the cellar, stumbling when there was no longer a step below him. The cellar was far too hot and smoke was swirling around them. Above they could hear the roar of flames and the sound of burned timbers collapsing.
When Callie wriggled out of the sling, she wavered beside him so he offered his arm for support. “How do we get out of here?”
“This part of the cellar is above ground level because of the way the hill slants. If we follow the wall around to the right, we’ll come to a doorway that opens onto the hill. We need to get outside before all the floors above us collapse.”
He could hear Callie swallow. “Then let’s get moving. I can walk if I hold onto your arm. Is there anything else I can do?”
“Hold your free hand out so we won’t walk into anything disastrous. Watch your footing, the floor is slippery.” He found the wall with his right hand and began moving along it, Callie in tow. From her tight breathing, he knew that she was hurting, but this was faster than carrying her and time was running out.
Behind them a section of flooring collapsed in flames. It was terrifyingly close, but did give them enough light for Gordon to see the door. “There, just ahead!”
He slid his left arm around her waist and half carried her the last dozen feet. He was panting with exhaustion by the time he reached the door. A massive wooden bar held it closed. With the strength of desperation, he wrenched it away. The door moved with great difficulty, but when he applied his full strength, it screeched open.
As soon as the way was clear, he caught Callie’s waist and pulled her through beside him. “We have to get away from the building as fast as we can!”
Even though Callie was limping badly, she moved with surprising speed. The fresh air on the hillside was a huge relief. He kept them moving away from the tower. Any moment now, any moment . . .
The interior floors collapsed behind them with a deafening roar, throwing blazing wreckage in all directions. At the first crash, Gordon pulled Callie down and covered her with his body, panting in great gulps as his lungs fought for breath.
Burning brands were falling around them, but the ground was cold and damp and nothing caught fire. Wearily he pushed himself to a sitting position. Callie sat up also and he pulled her close. In the distance, he heard shouts as people fought the fire.
As they gazed at the fountain of flames erupting from the tower, Callie said wryly, “You’re going to have to buy me a new wardrobe now. You’ll need one, too.”
He laughed a little, giddy with relief that they’d survived. “At least those horrible tapestries are gone.”
“They’re no loss, but I’m glad I’m wearing my topaz earrings.” She winced as another burst of flame spouted skyward. “This end of Kingston Court is definitely gone.”
Gordon shrugged. “As long as everyone got out safely, I don’t care. May it burn and be damned!”
“You didn’t deserve Kingston Court!” a voice snarled from nearby. “It’s your fault it’s burning, and you must have made a deal with the devil to have survived!”
He turned and saw his brother Eldon holding a pistol aimed directly at his heart.