Debbie Raleigh - Some Like It Brazen.doc

by Some Like It Brazen (lit)

  With a furious cry he tumbled to his side, attempting to protect Mr. Foster from the blow. A fine notion until he realized that he had left himself utterly unprotected and with a helpless sense of destiny felt his head smack against the flagstone floor.

  There was a burst of pain and a flash of light.

  Then there was nothing.

  No one had ever accused Biddles of being naïve.

  Sly, devious, and downright immoral. But never, ever naïve.

  As soon as Lady Bianca left the room, he had slipped from the manor house to station himself outside the kitchen door. He did not believe her seeming resignation for a moment. She had been desperate to reach Edward’s side, and she was not about to let anyone stand in her way.

  Unfortunately, he managed to outwit even himself.

  While he was waiting for her to make an appearance, she managed to sneak through a side door and was already at the stables when he spotted her scurrying form.

  With a curse at his stupidity, Biddles was in swift pursuit.

  Damn and blast. Edward would have his hide if anything happened to his fiancée.

  He managed to reach the stables just as she charged out the doors upon a gray mare, and with a sharp command he had the harassed groom retrieving his own mount. Precious moments passed before he was at last in the saddle and demanding directions to the Foster cottage. Moments that allowed Lady Bianca to gain a considerable advantage.

  Taking the nearest lane, Biddles bent low as he urged his horse to a gallop. He could already smell the acrid smoke that filled the air, and his heart sank as he realized that Bianca was bound to reach the cottage before he could catch her.

  All he could do was hope that Edward was wisely standing aside and allowing his tenants to battle the blaze.

  A hope that withered and died before it could even take root in his heart.

  Like Bianca, he knew Edward far too well. He would never be capable of standing aside. If danger was to be found, he would be right in the thick of it.

  Forced to slow as he cut through a thick copse of trees, Biddles could begin to see the dark wisps of ashes in the air. The cottage was near, and he had yet to even catch sight of Bianca.

  Seething with impatience, he urged his horse to a faster pace and at last crested the small hill to discover the burning cottage along with a crowd in the throes of obvious panic. He vaulted from the saddle, his only concern finding Edward and his stubborn fiancée.

  He grabbed the arm of the nearest man and gave him a small shake to capture his attention.

  “Where is Lord Harrington?” he demanded.

  The broad man with a ruddy countenance and shock of black hair looked near to tears.

  “Went inside to save poor old Foster.” His voice broke as he forced out the raw words. “He hasn’t come out again.”

  With a sense of doom, Biddles glanced toward the cottage to witness Bianca hurtling through the open door.

  “God have mercy,” he muttered as his fingers tightened upon the man’s arm. Edward had been a fool to go in after the man. And Bianca an even bigger fool to go after Edward. So what did that make him? A fool’s fool, obviously. Assuming an expression that had managed to intimidate even Prinny, he leaned toward his brawny captive. “I am going in there. I will need your help.”

  The broad face turned a sickly white. “But—”

  “I do not have time to argue,” Biddles growled, already tugging the reluctant savior forward. “Now come along.”

  The heat was nearly overwhelming as they approached the burning cottage, but Biddles did not allow his pace to falter. Despite the thick smoke, he could see the trailing end of Bianca’s gown as she bent downward. Which could only mean that Edward was thankfully close to escape.

  Stepping over the threshold, he bent beside the slender woman, realizing that she was pushing aside a chair that had caught fire and landed upon the unconscious Edward. She did not even notice his presence until he touched her shoulder.

  With a gasp, she turned to regard him with a grim expression. “He is alive, but we must get him out of here,” she commanded in tones that defied argument.

  “You take one arm and I will take the other,” he directed, grasping an arm as he turned his attention to the hovering man at his side. “You take Mr. Foster.”

  “Aye,” the man agreed, easily bending to grasp the man beneath the shoulders and drag him out the door.

  They were forced to wait until the unconscious Mr. Foster was over the threshold before they could begin tugging Edward to safety. Biddles could hear Bianca’s rasping breath, but there was no hint of fear or even panic upon her countenance.

  Nothing but grim determination.

  At last able to drag Edward backward, they had barely stepped out of the door when a sudden mob appeared and Biddles found a dozen hands reaching to grasp hold of Edward and rush him from the hungry flames.

  Momentarily knocked aside, Biddles and Bianca sucked in deep breaths of the crisp air. They had only been within the cottage for a few moments, but it was enough to fill their lungs with thick ash.

  At least he knew that Edward was alive and seemingly unharmed except for a nasty gash on his temple, Biddles acknowledged with sharp relief. Even as he had been jostled aside, he had witnessed the Earl’s eyes begin to flutter open.

  Digging out his handkerchief, Biddles mopped the sweat and soot from his countenance. Then, with a wheezing cough, he turned his attention to the lady at his side.

  At first he did not notice more than the fact that her hair had come loose to tumble about her shoulders and her dress appeared to be singed by the flames.

  It was only when she slowly fell to her knees that he noticed the fierce blisters that marred her beautiful hands.

  “Oh lord,” he muttered as he bent beside her and took her hands in his own. “Edward is going to castrate me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  It was the relentless throbbing in his temple that at last wrenched Edward from the dark oblivion that held him.

  For long moments he floated in an odd sort of limbo, not quite awake but aware enough to sense that he had somehow been carried to his private chambers and that the light was slowly fading to dusk.

  For long moments he attempted to recall what had occurred after he had entered the cottage. He remembered carrying Mr. Foster toward the door, and the searing heat that had surrounded him. There had been something blocking his way, and then there was nothing more than darkness.

  Except for…an odd unease niggled at the edge of his mind.

  As if there were something of the gravest importance that he should recall.

  Painful moments passed as he struggled to think past the thickness fogging his mind. Blast it all, what had it been?

  A sound. Yes, that was it. A sound that had managed to reach him even as he lay unconscious.

  The sound of Bianca’s voice.

  His eyes abruptly wrenched open as he gave a low groan of dismay.

  Dear God, had he truly heard her voice, or had it only been a figment of his imagination?

  He had to know. This moment.

  Gritting his teeth, Edward began to lift his head from the pillow. He was prepared for the pain that flared through his brain like a strike of lightning. What he was not prepared for was the wave of dizziness that nearly tumbled him back into the waiting darkness.

  With a low groan, his head returned to the pillow and he clenched his hands into frustrated fists.

  “Ah, the mighty savior at last awakens,” a voice drawled before the thin countenance of Biddles appeared directly above him. “And about bloody time.”

  “Good God, have I gone to hell?” he groaned.

  Biddles gave a low laugh. “Not as yet, old friend.”

  “Bianca…” He was startled by the raw huskiness of his voice.

  “Rest easy, Edward. Your Bianca is in rather better shape than you.”

  “I thought…I heard her voice when I was in the cottage.”

&nbs
p; A grimace touched Biddles’s face, and a shaft of pure fear lanced through Edward.

  “Yes. I fear that I failed you. She managed to slip away, and I was too late in arriving at the cottage.”

  She had been in that flaming hell?

  “Oh God. Is she harmed?”

  “Her hands are blistered. A burning chair had fallen atop you, and she pushed it off before it could harm you.”

  “I need to see her.”

  Once again he attempted to lift himself from the bed, only to have his companion press him firmly back onto the mattress. Much to his chagrin, it took the small man very little effort.

  “Absolutely not. You are to remain in this bed until the doctor returns in the morning.”

  A warning frown gathered on Edward’s brow. “Biddles…”

  The pale eyes narrowed with their own warning. One that held considerably more weight since Biddles was hovering over him like a ruthless vulture.

  “You attempt to move, and I shall call for your servants and have you tied to this bed,” he threatened in blunt tones. “Which is what I should have done to your foolhardy fiancée.”

  Well, Edward certainly agreed with that.

  What the devil had the woman been thinking? It was bad enough to have followed him to the cottage. But to actually enter…?

  Hell’s teeth, he felt as if he had lost at least a dozen years off his life.

  “Where is she?”

  Biddles smiled wryly. “After a battle I do not relish enduring again, I managed to convince her you were not at death’s door, and she went to have the doctor care for her burns.”

  His heart twisted. It was unbearable to think of her in pain.

  “I want to be with her. If she is hurt…”

  “Do not even think of it.” With a deliberate motion, Biddles sat on the side of the mattress, his expression warning that he would do whatever necessary to keep Edward flat on his back. Damn his soul. “If you were to appear, she would begin fussing over you and never have her wounds properly attended. Leave her be for the moment.”

  Firmly trapped, Edward heaved a disgusted sigh. “I should never have gone into the cottage.”

  “There are any number of us who can make that claim,” Biddles drawled.

  Edward stilled, his eyes widening as the truth struck him. “You saved me, did you not?”

  “Along with your soon-to-be wife and another tenant I did not bother to ask his name of.”

  “What of Mr. Foster?”

  Biddles shrugged. “He has a few burns, and his lungs are still troubling him, but the doctor is certain he will make a full recovery.”

  Edward heaved a sigh. It seemed all had turned out well despite his bumbling.

  “I do not know how I can ever thank you.”

  A sly smile touched the thin lips. “Oh, I shall no doubt discover some means.”

  Edward resisted the urge to chuckle. He feared the least movement might make his head explode.

  “No doubt.”

  There was a moment of silence before Biddles regarded him with a somber expression.

  “Edward.”

  “Yes?”

  “Do not ever doubt Lady Bianca’s love for you,” he astonished Edward by insisting. “Never have I seen a woman more frantic to reach a man’s side. I truly believe she was willing to die rather than lose you. A rare devotion you would be a fool not to appreciate.”

  Edward found himself unable to speak as a flood of peaceful acceptance filled his heart.

  Biddles was right. He had been absurd to doubt Bianca even for a moment. Even before she had accepted her love for him, he had sensed it deep within her. It shimmered between them with a force that was nearly tangible.

  It was only his doubts of himself that had blinded him to her steadfast affection.

  Of course, he was quite willing to believe in her love without any further heroics, he acknowledged with a sharp pang of horror. His poor heart could not endure the thought of her in danger.

  “I fully intend to appreciate her devotion,” he assured his friend, a faint smile curling his lips. “After I throttle her for daring to take such a risk. The mere thought of her being in that cottage will give me nightmares for years.”

  “Ah, the pleasure of a wife,” Biddles drawled. “Trust me, you will never again have peace in your life.”

  Edward arched a brow. “Thank you, that is quite reassuring.”

  “On the other hand, nothing will bring you greater happiness or joy.”

  Edward briefly considered the warmth filling his heart to near overflowing. In truth, he had never thought it possible to be so happy.

  “On that we agree, my friend. So, may I assume that you now approve of my choice in brides?”

  “Without hesitation. Indeed, I would say you are a greater idiot than I ever imagined if you allow her to slip away.”

  “She will not slip away,” he swore softly. “That I can promise you.”

  Slowly rising to his feet, Biddles regarded him with a searching gaze. “Is there anything I can get for you? You appear a bit pale.”

  Edward grimaced. “My head feels as if it has been used as a battering ram, but otherwise I am well enough.”

  “Then I believe I shall return to London.”

  Edward glanced toward the window, where he could study the gathering darkness.

  “Would it not be best to wait until morning?”

  Biddles offered a dismissive wave of his hand. “I prefer to travel during the night. That is when one is inclined to meet the more interesting folk.”

  “Interesting folk such as cutthroats, thieves, and smugglers?”

  “Ah, my very favorite sort.”

  Edward rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Biddles gave a soft chuckle. “They possess their own charm.”

  “And beyond the creatures of the night, you are anxious to return home.” Edward easily sensed his friend’s restless impatience.

  The nobleman gave a helpless lift of his hands. “I do not like to leave Anna when she is still battling her sickness in the mornings. Unless I am there to badger her, she will not eat as she should.”

  “Then you should go.” With an effort, Edward reached up to lightly touch his companion’s arm. “And thank you. Bianca is not the only one who has proven a rare devotion this day.”

  A twinkle entered the pale eyes. “Good gads, do not believe I did anything out of affection for you, old friend. Had it been my choice, I would have left you to rot in that cottage. Unfortunately my poor vanity could not possibly accept being bested by a mere female. How could I show my face at the clubs again?”

  Edward smiled wryly. He did not doubt for a moment this man would dare the pits of Hades to rescue a friend in need.

  “Be on your way,” he murmured. “And take care. I shall never forgive you if you allow your throat to be slit before you can stand beside me at my wedding.”

  “Do not fear. I shall take the greatest care. I would not wish to miss appearing at your side in all my glory.”

  With a laugh at Edward’s horrified expression, the slender gentleman gave a flamboyant bow and slipped out of the door. Alone once again, Edward heaved a faint sigh.

  Damn, he wanted to be with Bianca.

  No matter how many times he was reassured that she was well, he would not truly believe it until he was able to see her for himself.

  Unfortunately, the pounding in his head had taken on a malicious vigor that made even blinking a painful business.

  For the moment, he was trapped in this bloody bed.

  As soon as he could move, however, Bianca would not escape him again.

  She would be at his side, precisely where she belonged.

  Bianca was more than a bit unnerved as she entered Edward’s darkened chamber and set the candle beside the bed. It had been bad enough to have the doctor fussing over her blistered hands as if she were at death’s door. But before she could escape to be with Edward, the cook had firmly
bustled her into the kitchen and insisted on treating the burns with her own private salve that she swore was far superior.

  Even worse, the entire staff had gathered in the kitchen, tears streaming down their faces as they babbled over and over about her miraculous rescue of their master and how she must have been sent by God.

  It had all been horridly embarrassing, and, barely waiting for the cook to finish bandaging her hands, she had muttered a need to retire and fled with all haste.

  Taking care, she leaned over the bed to study the man asleep upon the pillows. In the blink of an eye, her lingering unease faded and a swell of tenderness raced through her heart.

  Dear God, she loved this man, she acknowledged as her gaze clung to his pale countenance. In the flickering candlelight, his features appeared oddly softened, even boyish. Oh, there was no mistaking the raw masculinity or sheer power that was so much a part of him. Or even the hint of stubbornness in his strong jaw. But with his hair tousled onto his forehead and his temple sporting a painful wound, he had never seemed so vulnerable.

  Her hand instinctively reached out to smooth back his curls, only to pull back sharply. The doctor had warned that Edward was bound to suffer from an aching head when he awoke. It was surely best that he be allowed to sleep through the worst of his pain.

  With a grudging sigh, she turned to head back toward the door. She was desperate for a hot bath and a tray of food. But not quite desperate enough to face the tearful gratitude of the servants.

  It seemed there was nothing left to do but return to her own chambers and wait for Edward to waken.

  She had taken only a few steps when a husky male voice shattered the silence.

  “Surely you are not leaving so soon?”

  Spinning about, Bianca met the glittering hazel gaze with a jolt of surprise.

  “I thought you to be asleep.”

  With an obvious effort, Edward shifted higher upon the pillows, the linen sheet lowering enough to reveal the broad width of his chest.

  A renegade shiver of awareness inched down her spine.

  Oh…my. She did not believe she would ever grow tired of such a sight.