Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1)

by Skye, Christina

  Silver was still pondering how to manage it when a dense black cloud enveloped the cottage.

  ~ 21 ~

  Gasping, Silver ran for the stone steps leading to the house.

  Bram would be in the study, no doubt, dark head bent forward, oblivious to the world as he scribbled in his well-worn notebook of his.

  But there was no sign of the boy in the quiet, book-lined study at the front of the house. Nor in the little sitting room that he had commandeered for his working area.

  “Bram!” Silver’s voice was raw with panic as heavy smoke churned up around her.

  A sound came from the floor. Through the smoke Silver made out an unmoving shape. With a ragged cry she caught her brother’s arm and struggled toward the door.

  He gave a racking cough as his eyes cracked opened. “So sorry, Syl.” Bram coughed painfully. “Tried t’ stop him but I never even knew what hit me.”

  And then the boy shuddered and fell back into unconsciousness.

  ~ ~ ~

  It wasn’t until Silver had carried Bram to safety and gone for water that Tinker came pounding up the path, breathless and pale with fear. “What afoot now?”

  Silver slung a wooden bucket into his hand as she dashed her own bucket onto the flames licking the front porch. “No time — Bram’s safe out back. Must save — the cottage.”

  Instantly Tinker swung into action. After checking on Bram for himself he set off for more water vessels.

  Silver’s lungs were burning and her cheeks were coated with soot when Tinker reappeared, dragging a heavy copper tub. Together they wrestled the vessel toward the house.

  For over an hour she and Tinker ran back and forth, not speaking. When the last flames were finally drowned, Silver sank down on the blackened porch, dragged in a choking breath, and dropped her chin onto sooty hands.

  Only then did she see the words scrawled on the wall below the window.

  This time’s only a warning.

  Next time you’re ALL going to burn.

  Trembling, Silver locked her hands beneath her knees to keep. All she could see was Bram’s face, pale and frightened, dark with soot.

  Next time you’re ALL going to burn.

  “N-not Bram.” Tears began to streak down her face. She bit her lip as Tinker gently brushed them away. “I am not crying.”

  “Of course you’re not, miss. Thought never crossed my mind.”

  “Well, I’m not, so don’t think I am.”

  But it was too late for their simple schemes, too late to hope they’d escaped her enemies. She had saved Bram today, but what about next time and the time after that? Luc was right.

  Silver knew then what she must do. She seized upon the idea with grim determination, driven by the reckless pride that had been the ruin of far too many St. Clairs. “Look after Bram, Tinker.”

  “And just where do y’ think you’re going, miss? Covered with soot, you are, and your eyes barely able to see.”

  “I — I must change. And there’s my face to clean…” She was talking more to herself than to him. “Then I must go out.”

  “The only place you’re going is down to the drying shed with me, so you can scrub off some of that soot. And then you’ll hie yourself into a chair while I bandage those burned fingers of yours!”

  Silver cocked her head, barely listening. “Fingers? Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ll need gloves. I’d quite forgotten. It would never do for them to see how close they came to succeeding.”

  “For who to see what? What’re you scheming on about now, miss? I know that look of yours. Seen it too many times afore to mistake it. Trouble, that’s what it means, trouble pure and simple. Now just you tell me—”

  “Not now, Tinker.” Silver’s voice was utterly calm. Dangerously calm. “I must hurry. There is so little time.”

  Then she disappeared up the narrow stairs to her bedroom.

  ~ ~ ~

  When Silver pushed open the blackened door of the cottage thirty minutes later, the soot was gone from her cheeks and her blistered fingers were covered by fine doeskin gloves. She had waited until she was certain that Bram was resting comfortably and Tinker was standing guard. Only then did she slip outside.

  She looked down at her gloves, frowning. How odd that she’d never worn them before. And how odd that now, at a desperate time like this, she should find them useful. She felt wild laughter build in her throat, but bit it back.

  No time for that, she told herself sternly, smoothing down her skirt of ivory jaconet muslin. She was wearing her best gown — nearly her only gown. Its yards of fine fabric were caught at full sleeves and a froth of lace curved along the bodice. Ribbons of forest-green peeked from the sleeves, deepening the hue of her eyes.

  Silver studied her image in a window dusted with ash.

  Passable, she decided, twitching a ribbon straight at her sleeve. But what Silver did not see was that she looked far more than passable. With her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing, she was a rare combination of innocence and passion. To any man she would have been a temptation. To a man who was already halfway in love with her, she would be a seduction beyond resisting.

  But Silver had no thought of love or seduction. Her heart was hard as granite as she hurried down the path toward the stables, remembering her father’s words.

  And she would do whatever was necessary to protect her brother’s life.

  I am writing this to you, Susannah, because you have your mother’s curiosity and my damnable temper. It is not something I’m proud of bequeathing you, but I’m certain you’ll control yours better than I have done.

  And I tell myself that it will take a bit of temper, a bit of grit, to complete the hard task I’m leaving you.

  Find out who killed your mother, my Susannah. Find out why.

  When you do, you’ll know who is standing out there in the night, watching me even now as I write.

  I have tried and failed.

  Now I leave the task to you…

  Luc strode up to the workrooms with only one thought in mind: that he had to make Silver leave.

  It was too dangerous for any of them to stay here longer. He needed time to trace who was behind the attacks — and why. Whether Silver liked it or not, she was going to leave. This very afternoon, if he could make her.

  But when he swung open the polished oak door to the workroom Silver had vanished. Lavender fields, rose rows, and herb garden were empty, and a smoky haze drifted over the fields.

  Then Luc saw the blackened walls of the cottage on top of the hill.

  “What happened?” he growled to Tinker, who had appeared behind him.

  “Those brutes set fire to the cottage, that’s what. Nearly killed Bram in the process. When I came down from checking on him, she was gone.”

  Luc scowled, already envisioning a dozen deadly scenarios: Silver confronting Sir Charles Millbank. Silver in that damnable bordello. Silver being held and beaten by masked desperados—

  He caught a hard breath. No good to jump to conclusions. “Did she say where she was going?”

  “Could be Kingsdon Cross, since she was dressed in her only nice gown,” the old man said darkly.

  “How could you have let her go, damn it?”

  Tinker started to say something, then closed his mouth and shrugged. “Truth is, she snuck past me. I was just going down for my horse to follow her when you came. And as for letting the female go, when Miss Silver’s in one of her takings, there’s no reasoning with her about anything!”

  Luc swore softly. “These men are dangerous. They’ll stop at nothing to have their way, you must see that now. As soon as I find her, we must make her go. Get them both packed and ready to leave this afternoon. Since there appears to be no other place, they can come to me. They’ll be safe with me, you have my word on it.”

  Tinker gave him a measuring look. “Safe, aye, but from who?”

  “From anyone who would try to harm them. Myself included,” Luc added grimly.


  Tinker shoved a lavender sprig between his teeth and studied Luc. After a long moment he nodded. “Reckon I saw something else, highwayman. When she raced off in that gig of hers, she was headed away from the high road.”

  “You mean she wasn’t headed for Kingsdon Cross? Then why did you tell me—”

  “Because I’m still not sure I trust you. Not enough to risk Miss Silver’s life on it. But you’re two score years younger than I am, so I reckon I’ll have to trust you, and that’s why I’m telling you now. She went west. Over the hill and straight on past the meadow.”

  West? There was nothing there but farm country and the fens and…

  Luc’s face hardened. And the only road that led to the Green Man.

  “I can see you’ve got the same idea I do. She’s storming off to that disreputable den of thieves in her finest dress.”

  But these were not men to be argued with or threatened — not by a solitary woman. She was in serious danger.

  ~ ~ ~

  All the way there Luc told himself he was a fool. Not even someone with Silver’s boundless stubbornness would dare to confront the lion in its den.

  But when he reined in his horse outside the Green Man half an hour later, he saw Silver’s gig waiting outside the inn’s rickety front door.

  A little boy with a grimy face was sitting on a crate nearby, minding her horse. He jumped up when he saw Luc’s imposing figure, black from head to toe, mask, hat, and shining boots. “You’re Blackwood, ain’t you?”

  Luc laughed. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m mad King George.”

  The boy smiled hugely. “Pooh. You looking for the angry lady?”

  The angry lady! That fit Silver to perfection. “I expect I am.”

  “She went in there.” The boy pointed inside. “Told her not to go into the Green Man, so I did. Not a place for no lady. Reckon she wouldn’t listen.”

  Luc cursed softly. Not listen? That had to be Silver.

  He felt fear tighten his throat as he slung his satchel over his shoulder and dropped from his horse.

  What kind of mess had the woman tumbled into now?

  ~ 22 ~

  Luc took a quick glance about. No one had noticed him yet, and he would have the element of surprise in his favor.

  Quickly, he pulled a small silver-butted pistol from his satchel and slid it beneath one cuff. He didn’t know what he would find inside, but he wasn’t going anywhere unarmed.

  The Green Man hadn’t changed since his last visit. It was still a rickety two-story structure with worn steps that looked like they dated back to William’s time. A large taproom occupied the front with a private room to the left, and perhaps half a dozen bedrooms in the rear and upstairs. Peering through a grimy window, Luc saw the bald proprietor standing before a chipped counter, wiping beefy fingers on a soiled apron.

  Luc pushed through the doorway. There he blinked and came to an abrupt halt, certain his eyes were failing him.

  But they weren’t.

  Silver was standing in the middle of the taproom decked out fine as fivepence, all frilled muslin and soft satin ribbons, looking for all the world as if she were off on a shopping tour of Regent Street. Nothing in her expression revealed fear over the fact that four of the ugliest villains in Norfolk were scowling down at her — and the pistol she held level.

  Luc’s fists clenched. He realized the danger she was courting.

  She didn’t notice his arrival, but the seven men in the room did. When the publican began to inch toward the back door, Luc pulled out his own pistol and aimed it carefully. “You’d do best to stay right where you are, my good man.”

  Silver spun about. “You!”

  “Surely you didn’t expect the magistrate,” Luc growled. “Get over here.”

  Color washed through Silver’s cheeks. “Not until I’m finished.”

  Luc’s fingers tightened on his gun. He watched a big man with a zigzag scar and no front teeth reach under the table. Very carefully Luc snagged the second pistol from beneath his cape. “Whatever you were doing is done,” he growled to Silver. “Start walking.”

  She thrust her little parasol down on the table with a snap. “No.”

  Toothless started to smile. Luc moved his second gun into clear view.

  “This is hardly necessary,” Silver said curtly. “I am certain that these gentlemen—”

  “Will slit your throat without a shred of remorse,” Luc finished flatly.

  Silver snorted. “On the contrary, they were just answering a few questions for me. Weren’t you, gentlemen?” She turned about and treated the men to a comradely smile as she raised her pistol higher.

  Toothless smiled back — only his smile was cold and very ugly.

  “Now, woman! Before it’s too late.”

  By then it was too late. The man with no front teeth shoved the heavy table forward. Cutlery and tankards went flying, and one heavy leg caught Silver’s knee, sending her reeling backward, her pistol gone.

  Right into Toothless’s greasy fingers. The next moment a knife gleamed at her throat.

  “Put down the barkers, guv.”

  Luc bit back an oath. But with a knife leveled at Silver’s throat he had no choice but to comply. He dropped the pistol on the nearest table.

  “Both of them. Less’n yer want the little lady’s dress to git soiled.”

  A second later Luc’s other pistol hit the floor. His eyes didn’t leave the man’s face. And Luc didn’t like the determination and delight he saw there.

  “Now move back against the wall, highwayman. Slow like.”

  “You’ve got the knife,” Luc said, shrugging. He moved his arm slowly, making a great business of sliding the leather satchel from his shoulder.

  Silver’s captor gave a grunt as Luc dropped the satchel on the table, then eased back, one broad shoulder propped against the wall.

  Toothless scowled at the other men clustered at a greasy table nearby. “Get out,” he ordered.

  They complied without a single protest. Somehow that worried Luc more than anything else.

  “An’ now mebbe we’ll have us a little talk with Miss Lavender here.” The innkeeper joined Toothless in laughter at this bit of humor. “And then we’ll remove that bleedin’ mask o’ yours, highwayman. We’ve all been wondering who you are and now we’re going to find out.”

  The innkeeper came strolling forward, all arrogance now that Luc was unarmed. “Reckon the gentry coves’ll relish the sight of you dangling from a noose. Me, too, since Lord Carlisle’s offering a hundred gold guineas for any information on Blackwood’s whereabouts. Nothing but proper civic duty to let him know, don’t you think, Amos? Who knows what he’ll offer if we bring him the highwayman in the flesh!”

  “Mebbe,” the man named Amos said darkly. “An’ mebbe not.”

  Silver looked at Luc. “I never thought they’d—”

  “Shut up,” her captor growled. His knife pricked her neck.

  Luc blocked out the sight. If he gave way to his fury, he’d never get them out of this. Instead he raised one booted foot against the chair beside him and studied his polished toe, as if he had no other concern in the world.

  “Intriguing thought, my friend,” he said coolly. “Except for one small problem.”

  “An’ what might that be, highwayman?”

  “The fact that you’re not going to get out of this room alive,” Luc growled, his eyes very cold behind his black mask.

  “Shut up,” Silver’s captor ordered. “Lessen yer want me to shut yer both up!” He darted an uneasy look at the sweating publican. “Go check the front door.”

  His accomplice waddled off, looked outside, then swung back around. “No one out there but the boy.”

  Amos laughed, then motioned toward Luc. “Tie him up.”

  Abruptly the publican lost his grin. “Who, me?”

  “Do it! Then we can send the boy over to fetch Millbank. He’s offered me two hundred pounds to find Blackwood.”

  “Th
en we split the money!” the publican hissed. “We’re in this equal like, don’t forget.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Luc noticed the flap of his satchel quiver. Seconds later a small, pointed nose appeared, followed by a sleek black body that twitched free and sank out of sight down one leg of the table.

  “Who put you up to the raids on Lavender Close Farm?” Luc asked curtly.

  “None of yer questions, highwayman.” Amos glared at his friend. “Tie him up and gag him, damn it!”

  “What about the girl?” The landlord’s fingers twisted nervously in the greasy folds of his apron. “When he paid us, he didn’t tell us nothing about—”

  “Shut up and do it.”

  The innkeeper ducked behind the chipped counter and emerged holding a length of stout rope. Warily, he approached Luc.

  “Paid you in advance, did he?” Luc said silkily. “Didn’t you wonder about that? Most men wait until the deed’s done before paying. But maybe your employer had his reasons. Maybe he means to see he gets his money back as soon you turn me over.” Out of the corner of his eye Luc saw his ferret slink along the base of the counter. “Oh, yes, my friends, I’d say it’s certain that you two are going to have a very nasty accident as soon as your business is settled.”

  “Stow it, Blackwood,” Amos growled. “Ow, I’m scared proper, so I am, highwayman. Aye, can’t yer see my fingers trembling?” As he spoke he made a sharp gesture with his knife. It was more drama than real movement, but Luc heard Silver gasp as blood welled up on her neck.

  Stay calm, Luc told himself harshly. Too soon and everything will be lost.

  He raised his hands before him with exaggerated amiability. “Don’t let me interfere with your plans. I’ve got an afternoon to while away, and I wouldn’t dream of ruining your fun.”

  This only made the publican frown all the harder. “Not in front, fool. Do you think I’m an out-and-out sapskull?”