Fever Dreams

by Nicole Jordan

“I won’t leave her!” she cried, then shouted hoarsely to the occupants inside the burning chamber. “This way!”

  Two Guardians staggered out next, but it was only when Macky emerged, stumbling and carrying the limp figure of Lady Claire, that Eve permitted Ryder to pull her down the murky corridor.

  Forcibly he guided her down the stairway and through the loading dock to the wide door, where he pushed her out into the less deadly night air, shouting, “Head for the woods! We’ll see to Claire.”

  Not waiting to see if she obeyed, he returned for Macky, who reluctantly gave up his precious burden, since Ryder had more strength.

  Wheeling, Ryder rushed the unconscious Claire outside, intending to take her as far away from the burning mill as possible. With Eve a few steps ahead of him, he ran for the shelter of the trees.

  He made it a third of the way across the clearing before the explosion erupted at his back. Thrown forward by the force, Ryder barely managed to stay on his feet and keep hold of Claire, protecting her with his body.

  Behind him, Macky was not so fortunate. When half the door blew off its hinges, splintering in lethal fragments, Macky caught the brunt of the blow with his shoulders and head. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryder saw his friend pitch forward to land facedown in the road.

  Grimly clamping down on his dread, Ryder kept moving, away from the roaring fire. Reaching the edge of the glade, he laid Claire gently down in the grass and bent to check her breathing.

  “She’s still alive,” he muttered, swamped by an enormous surge of relief. Drawing a knife from his coat pocket, he sliced through the rope her abductors had used to bind her wrists while Eve knelt beside her, alternately sobbing and coughing as she began chafing her sister’s hands and face, trying to revive her.

  When the girl suddenly moaned and began coughing, weakly struggling for breath, Eve gave a helpless whimper. “Thank God.”

  Claire’s hacking cough finally quieted enough for her to gaze up at Ryder. “I knew you would come for me,” she said simply.

  Ryder couldn’t manage to return her faint smile. “I need to see to Macky,” he said gruffly.

  Eve nodded in understanding. “Go, please…I will stay with Claire.”

  He covered Claire with his coat and got to his feet. When he was gone, Eve gazed back down at her sister. “Did Hitchens harm you in any way?”

  “No, except that he kicked a lantern over on purpose, the horrible fiend. And his friends tied me with ropes.”

  When Claire raised her arms, Eve saw the raw, bleeding flesh at her wrists.

  The sight tormented her. “Oh, Claire, I am sorry you had to endure that horror.”

  “I am all right, Eve, truly,” the girl insisted in a rasping voice before another fit of coughing seized her.

  When she recovered, Claire turned her head to peer at the inferno that had been the mill, where swarms of farmers were attempting futilely to douse the fire with river water carried in shirts and coats and hats. “Where is Macky? I thought…I saw Mr. Macklin kneeling before me. Was I dreaming?”

  “No, dearest,” Eve replied. “He saved you from the fire. But then there was an explosion.”

  When she cast a troubled glance in the direction of the mill, Claire demanded, “Was Macky hurt?”

  “I fear so,” Eve said.

  “I need to see to him.”

  “Of course, as soon as you are able to stand.”

  Macky, who had been dragged across the road, away from the heat of the flames, regained consciousness just as Ryder reached him.

  “What of the lass?” he demanded, lurching to his knees. There was terror in his voice, and he didn’t relax until Ryder responded, “She’s safe, thanks to you.”

  Reassured, Macky collapsed back onto the grass. His face was scraped raw, Ryder saw, and he was bleeding from two places on his head and a nasty gash on his left arm, but he still retained enough energy to swear a string of accomplished oaths as one of his fellow Guardians began to attend to his injuries.

  As he lent assistance, Ryder glanced back across the clearing. He felt his heart wrench at the sight of Eve’s expression in the flaming glow of the mill fire. She was still crying silently, her beautiful face smudged by smoke and streaked with grimy tears, a reminder of his failure. Claire’s rescue didn’t absolve him from the fact that he had neglected to protect her in the first place.

  He was only vaguely aware that several people had surrounded the sisters, including the doctor who had come in the event Lady Claire needed medical attention. She would be in good hands now.

  It was then that Cecil came rushing up, demanding to know what had happened to his twin. When Claire smiled up at him, the boy fell to his knees and grabbed her in a ferocious bear hug that startled a laugh out of her but soon had her protesting that he was crushing her.

  When Eve warned him to take care, Cecil merely reached out and hauled her into his hug as well, drawing Eve close while burying his face against Claire’s hair as he muttered a heartfelt prayer of thanks over and over again.

  The emotional reunion, filled with elation and relief and unquestionable love, sliced at Ryder’s heart, since he didn’t deserve to be part of it. All three siblings were laughing and crying now as they celebrated Claire’s narrow reprieve from death.

  Unable to share in their joy, Ryder turned his face away, leaving Eve and Cecil to minister to their sister.

  By the time Macky’s injuries were bandaged, Ryder was able to glance around at the devastation. The blaze was dying down, but it looked like a battle scene.

  When he spied Hitchens, Ryder felt himself struggle anew with the fierce desire to kill the bastard with his bare hands. Thorne had managed—regrettably—to bring the footman down from the waterwheel before the explosion.

  Hitchens was now trussed up tightly as a Christmas goose, with several armed farmers guarding him and prodding him none too gently with their pitchforks.

  All in all, the outcome could have been infinitely worse, Ryder acknowledged, but the fact was little comfort.

  He had only a moment to dwell on his dark thoughts, however, for he caught sight of Eve moving toward them. She and Cecil were helping Claire make her way slowly over to where Macky lay.

  When Claire saw the extent of Macky’s injuries, she gave a murmur of pity and protest and promptly knelt beside him. “Oh, your poor face. To think you were wounded so terribly saving my life.”

  Wincing, Macky managed a grin. “It was nothing, my lady. I was glad for the chance to play the hero.”

  She stroked his brow, then gave a little sob.

  Macky’s expression dissolved into dismay. “What is this, tears? Are you weeping over me?”

  Claire took his hand in her own and brought it to her lips. “I couldn’t have borne it if you had been killed.”

  “Oh, my beautiful lass, you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

  With no apparent concern for his injuries or for anyone who might be watching, he pulled Claire down into his arms. Ryder saw Eve give a start as Macky tendered her sister a passionate, ardent, heartfelt kiss that left no question as to his feelings for her.

  When he finally released her, Claire stared down at him in breathless wonder, while Macky stared back with the same spellbound awe.

  After a moment, he peered sheepishly around at the spectators, then sent an apologetic glance at Eve. “Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb,” he muttered. “This may be the only chance I’ll ever get.” His hands reached up to cradle Claire’s face tenderly. “I would be honored, lass, if you would consider marrying me. I am not such a grand prize, but I love you witless.”

  The joy that overcame Claire’s expression conveyed her answer before she even replied; her sooty, tearstained face looked beatific. “Yes, I will marry you, Macky. And gladly.”

  Her twin didn’t appear in the least surprised by this turn of events, but Eve looked startled. “Claire…This is not the time to make such a momentous decision. You have just experi
enced a traumatic ordeal.”

  Claire smiled up at her. “I know. But strangely, my ordeal is precisely what made me realize just what is important to me. I know it is not quite what you planned for me, Eve, but Macky is the husband I want, suitable or not. I love him.”

  Evidently rendered speechless by her sister’s declaration of love, Eve gazed down helplessly at Claire. “I knew you were fond of Mr. Macklin, but I had no idea your affection had gone this far.”

  “Well, it has. It was quite unexpected, but it happened before I was even aware of it.”

  “Claire, you should at least wait until you are more recovered from the shock. There is no reason to make a hasty decision.”

  At her response, Ryder found himself clenching his teeth, suspecting Eve’s dismay was likely due to the vast difference in the lovers’ stations in class and fortune. He wanted to come to his friend’s defense, but Macky broke in before he could speak.

  “Yes, my love. Her ladyship is right. I want you to be very certain you wish to marry me.”

  Claire regarded him indulgently. “I won’t change my mind.”

  Eve reached down to help her sister to stand. “We will settle this later. For now we need to get you home to bed.”

  With weary amusement, Claire wrinkled her nose. “And a bath first, if you don’t mind.”

  Eve managed a faint smile. “Of course.”

  Rising to his feet, Ryder addressed Cecil. “You did well tonight, lad. Do you want to help me finish the job and see the felons incarcerated, or to escort your sisters home?”

  “Oh, finish the job, most certainly,” the boy declared. “I haven’t had this much excitement in the whole of my life.” Cecil caught himself and flashed an apologetic glance at his sisters. “Do you mind? Now that you are both safe, I can stop worrying and enjoy this bang-up adventure.”

  When Eve smiled in wry exasperation and told him he could go, Cecil raced off.

  Without commenting further, Ryder escorted the ladies some distance along the road to where Eve’s carriage now awaited with her coachmen and two of Ryder’s armed men acting as grooms. He handed Claire inside but detained Eve for a moment by grasping her upper arm.

  “Don’t forbid the match,” Ryder said, his voice low and testy. “A man’s worth is not in his title or fortune.”

  She stared up at him, as if surprised by his acrimony. “I know that.”

  He took a slow breath, attempting to control his irrational anger. “Macky is a good man.”

  “I know that, too. I just want Claire to be certain she is making the right decision. Marriage is too enormous a commitment to enter into lightly.” When he gritted his teeth, Eve smiled tentatively up at him. “Ryder, I haven’t had the chance to thank you for every thing you did…for saving my sister.”

  He didn’t respond. He didn’t want Eve’s gratitude; gratitude was a mere crumb compared to what he wanted from her.

  But now was not the time to take issue with her, Ryder realized. The skin beneath her eyes had the violet smudge of exhaustion, reminding him that she had experienced a terrifying ordeal herself.

  “Take Claire home,” he said more gently.

  “What will you do?”

  “Escort our culprit to the local authorities and supervise his incarceration. It will likely take all night.”

  “But you will return to the Park when you are finished?” she asked. When he hesitated, Eve’s tone softened. “Please, Ryder. I know the aunts will want to thank you personally for what you have done.”

  “I don’t care about their thanks.”

  “I…understand.”

  Involuntarily his fingers curled around her arm as he stared down at her, fighting the urge to draw Eve closer and kiss her the way Macky had done with her sister. This might be the last chance he ever had to taste her lips, to feel her warmth against him. But then Ryder forced himself to release her and step back. “Perhaps when I’ve dealt with Hitchens.”

  Eve looked as if she would say more, but she merely searched his face for another long moment before finally turning and climbing into the carriage with her sister.

  Shutting the door after her, Ryder watched the vehicle pull away. His dark mood had plunged even further now that the battle was over, even if he could declare himself victorious. Tonight he’d witnessed how deeply Eve loved her sister—so much that she was willing to sacrifice her own life to save her. Eve protected those she loved with the brave, determined fierceness of a lioness, and she would fight to the death if it came to that.

  He wondered if Eve could ever come to love him that much. It was possible it would never happen.

  The reflection brought a sudden emptiness to Ryder’s chest, as if his heart had stopped beating.

  Abruptly he spun on his heel and headed back to the scene of destruction. He would have to decide soon whether he should keep pursuing Eve. She was everything he’d ever wanted and needed, but what about her? She might be happier living her life without him.

  Perhaps he would do better to leave altogether and return to Cyrene. Ryder felt his stride falter. The thought of leaving Eve was like a knife in his chest; he wondered how he would survive walking away.

  But at the moment, he didn’t have the luxury of indulging his feelings of despair. He had the fate of his prisoner to deal with and a good deal of work ahead of him.

  It would be quite some time until he could try to settle his own fate.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  The interior of the coach was blessedly dim, allowing Eve to hide her despondency from her sister. Her spirits should have been soaring after Claire’s safe rescue, but instead she felt strangely forlorn.

  The truth was, Ryder’s terse dismissal had upset her greatly. She had seen his brooding eyes as he stared down at her. His dark perusal had lingered upon her face, as if he were committing her to memory. As if he might never see her again.

  Disquiet had clutched at her throat when he refused to answer her question about his plans. Eve was almost certain Ryder didn’t intend to return to the Park. His belongings were there, but he could always dispatch a servant to pack for him. He needn’t come himself. In truth, there was no reason for him to have anything more to do with her; now that Hitchens had been apprehended, she no longer needed Ryder’s protection.

  The very thought left her feeling bereft.

  Yet what did she expect when just hours ago she had baldly demanded that he leave? The possibility that he would actually do so left a hollowness in the pit of her stomach.

  Just then Claire interrupted her dark reverie to say tentatively, “I know you are worried for me, Eve. You think that I am not in my right mind just now after the ordeal I suffered. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. I know my own mind. What is more, I know my own heart.”

  With effort, Eve roused herself from her despondency. “I am worried for you, dearest. It alarms me that you would make such an irrevocable decision so hastily. Won’t you at least consider the possibility that you have confused your feelings of friendship and affection for Mr. Macklin with love?”

  “But I haven’t confused my feelings, Eve. I have never been less confused in all of my life. I love Macky. And I believe him when he says he loves me.”

  Eve hesitated, feeling helpless. “Perhaps you do love each other now, but you both must be absolutely certain that marriage is what you want. Your life will be an utter misery if your feelings for each other dissolve shortly after the wedding ceremony. What is worse, you will have no way out. A married woman is legally her husband’s possession, and you will be totally at his mercy.”

  “I trust Macky,” Claire said with conviction. “He would never abuse my trust.”

  “But you have known him only a short time. Not even a month.”

  “I realize that. But sometimes you just know if a person is right for you.” The soft smile in Claire’s voice was unmistakable. “Macky is right for me, Eve. I know it here.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “It
may not be logical. And it may not conform to all your tenets of matchmaking. But then love is not always rational, you must admit.”

  When Eve remained silent, Claire peered at her in the dim light thrown from the outer carriage lamps. “Have you never considered the possibility that the heart can recognize its soul mate?”

  The question disturbed her. “I suppose it is possible. But Claire, it happens so rarely.”

  “But it does happen. Macky makes me happy, Eve. It is as simple as that.” Reaching out, Claire took her hand. “You said that was precisely what you wanted for me—the chance to find happiness with my chosen mate. Well, I have found it. If you want me to wait to marry Macky, I will, but I won’t ever change my mind about loving him. And I would like your blessing for our marriage.”

  Eve felt her throat tighten with poignant tears. She could actually feel Claire’s happiness. There was a joyful serenity about her sister, a serenity that belonged to a mature woman rather than a nineteen-year-old girl.

  She would have to be satisfied with that, Eve acknowledged. Claire would very likely know true happiness married to Macky, and that was all she had ever wanted for her sister. Her most ardent dream was that Claire would make a marriage based on mutual respect and caring, with a husband who would cherish her as she deserved—and it seemed she had found such a match with Mr. Beau Macklin.

  “Very well,” Eve replied, her tone softening. “If you are both positively certain that you love each other and that your feelings will last, then you have my blessing, and gladly.”

  With a laugh, Claire threw her arms around Eve’s neck, hugging her tightly. When she drew back, her eyes were shining. “I want you to be happy too, Eve. You deserve it, if anyone does.”

  “Yes, well…perhaps happiness isn’t in the cards for me.”

  Sinking back against the cushions, Claire gave a tired sigh. “At least you needn’t be concerned about me any longer. Now that you don’t have to make a match for me, you can see to your own future. And you can concentrate on finding Sir Alex his ideal bride.”

  At the sharp stab of pain in her breast, Eve turned to gaze blindly out the carriage window. When she didn’t reply, Claire prodded, “You do still mean to continue helping him, don’t you?”