by Karen Ranney
Easing around the edge of the building, Rory was shocked to see the other man extending the lantern upward in several places, catching the thatch on fire.
“Are you daft, man?” he yelled.
The stranger turned, a look of hatred contorting his pale face. “Another MacRae,” he said.
Advancing on Rory, he began to smile, the expression malevolent in the glare of the spreading flames.
Rory watched as the man rushed him, the motion slowed by his own shock. He saw the lantern come toward him, then felt the flaming oil. The blow on the side of his head was unexpected. An instant later Rory realized that he’d fulfilled Daniel’s superstition after all.
Perhaps he should have been prepared, what with all the warnings he’d taken to Gilmuir about Drummond. But it hadn’t occurred to him that he might be in danger. Nor had he thought, on this warm and fragrant summer evening, that death might be lying in wait for him.
The other man leaned into him as his knees buckled.
“Die, MacRae,” he rasped, his breath heated on Rory’s cheek.
The last words he was to hear. Not Abigail’s teasing or James’s praise, but Drummond’s curse.
His final thought, in the moment before the world went gray, was that he hoped the MacRaes did not think his death a minor sorrow after all.
Instead of taking advantage of the invitation, James abruptly lifted Riona up, sitting her on the edge of a nearby table. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him.
“Not that way,” he said, taking her hands and putting them on his shoulders. “You must kiss me as if you mean it. As if there’s nothing else in the world you’d rather do. As if someone might be calling your name and you can’t go to him, or a flood is threatening but you can’t leave.” He placed his finger in the center of her bottom lip. “Until you have that kiss.”
He bent, but an inch from her mouth he hesitated. “Relax your mouth, Riona. Just enough for your lips to part.”
Her lips fell open, and he brushed his tongue against them, first the top, then the bottom. Slowly, so that she could experience the sensation. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, and he moved closer, standing to the side of her and placing his hands beneath her arms and behind her back.
Her breath was faster than before, her eyes still closed, and there was a look of such rapt concentration on her face that he almost smiled.
His lips touched hers, softly at first, then with more firmness. Her hand wound around his neck as he pulled her even closer. He wanted her breath, her soft gasps. What he received was an interlude of magic. Deep in her throat she moaned, and he felt himself harden at the sound. His hands moved from her back to frame her face, fingers thrusting into her hair as he’d imagined only hours earlier.
Dear God, he wanted her.
Finally, he pulled back, his heart beating rapidly, his erection almost painful. He lay his forehead against hers, heard her breathing, and thought that she was as affected as he was by their kiss.
He should have left upon first meeting her, before she imprinted herself on his mind and his heart. But she would remain there now, a woman with cool gray eyes and a smile that forever hovered over full lips. A woman who yanked at her hair and muttered imprecations when a braid came loose. One who smelled delightfully of cheese and warm milk.
Prudently, he stepped away. She reached out for him, then let her hands drop to her sides. What a sight to see, Riona well kissed, her blush intensifying with his scrutiny. But he couldn’t look away. If he did, he might miss a second of her. Gray eyes sparkling and lips curving in a winsome smile.
An expression of horror suddenly transformed her face. “James, look!” she said, raising her arm and pointing. He spun on his heel.
There, in the corner, was a tendril of smoke. Horses whinnied in alarm as James instantly recognized the danger. Fire was a constant threat in thatched buildings, and the barn was no exception.
He went to the closed door and pushed on it. But instead of it opening, he felt resistance.
“It’s been barred from the outside,” he said as Riona joined him.
The blaze that had begun in the corner was spreading rapidly up the wall. Although the stones didn’t burn, the vegetation between them did, resulting in smoke that permeated the interior of the barn. Even worse, he caught a glimpse of a flame closer to the ceiling.
Riona had seen it as well. “James, the roof’s on fire!”
The horses were nearly screaming now, and the other animals were desperately kicking or butting at the stalls in an effort to escape. Riona began to pound on the doors with her fists, shouting over the din.
The barn wasn’t that far away from the house. Even if no one heard anything, the fire would be seen. But they might not have that much time.
“The only way to save the animals is to get out of here, Riona,” James said.
He pulled her away from the door, helping her to the ladder to the loft. She climbed up hurriedly, then stood beside him at the open window. Squares of thatch were beginning to fall to the ground in a rain of fire. The roof was now fully ablaze.
Darkness obscured the distance, but he knew the drop was at least a dozen feet and there was nothing to break the fall, no piles of hay, no mound of earth.
James knelt and motioned for her to do the same. “You have to make it to the door, Riona,” he said, getting to his stomach. “I’ll get the horses and meet you there.”
When she didn’t move, he turned and looked up at her.
“You must promise me,” she said, her voice sounding desperate, “if I’m not fast enough, you will jump for safety.”
“An easy promise to give,” he said, smiling.
Gripping her wrists, he held her as she dangled her legs out the window. He lowered her down as far as he could and only then released her, watching as she fell to the ground. For a horrified instant, he thought she’d been injured, but she scrambled to her feet and raced around to the front of the barn.
James descended the ladder. There was no way to save all the animals, so he made his way to the horses first. Each of them was panicking in its stall, hoofs flailing as they reared and screamed. He managed to grab the reins of his own mount. As one of the double doors opened, he half pulled the horse to the door, surrendering the reins to Riona with a shouted caution before going back for the others.
The second horse had managed to knock some of the boards of his stall loose. James opened the gate and set the animal free, replicating the gesture twice more with the other horses. They shot through the door, escaping to freedom through the choking smoke.
Finally, the horses rescued, he went back for one of the newly born calves just as Riona raced to the other pen. Scooping a sickly lamb into her arms, she made her way back to the door, its mother trailing fretfully behind her.
Everything was oddly muted beneath the fire’s growing voice, a low grumbling roar as the inferno consumed everything in its path. If the animals screamed, he could no longer hear; if Riona called to him, the sound was lost.
A movement high above them, a shadow limned by flames, was the only warning they had before a timber fell. The roof beam crashed to the hay-strewn floor with such an impact that the earth vibrated beneath his boots.
He turned, seeing Riona out of the corner of his eye. Lunging for her, he pinned her against the east wall as another part of the roof caved in, falling heavily and blocking the doors.
His eyes were watering so fiercely that he could barely see. His chest felt on fire, each laboring breath more difficult than the last. If they didn’t escape soon, they would die here.
The barn was an earthly hell filled with unimaginable heat. The clouds of thick, black smoke were so dense that he could no longer see the doorway. He’d been aboard ship once when a galley fire had spread. The terror of the sailors had been nothing in comparison to what he felt at this moment. He had no intention of dying, however, or of allowing Riona to perish.
She’d dressed for dinner in a more formal ga
rment than she wore during the day. This gown had an underskirt of quilted fabric. Without explanation, he began to pull on the fabric, cutting it away from her waist with his knife when it refused to rip.
“What are you doing?” she asked, batting his hands away.
“If we’re going to survive, we’re going to need a way to get through the fire,” he shouted.
“My dress?”
He nodded, slicing her underskirt free, leaving her attired in nothing more than her shift and stockings below the waist. After ripping the skirt down the back seam until it was a large semicircle of material, he dipped it into the water trough. When it was soaked, he returned to her side, draping it over her head. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he joined her beneath the dripping cloth. Not an appreciable protection against the fire, but better than nothing.
“Are you ready?” he asked, bending his head so that his lips rested next to her ear. A strange time to feel so exultant. This might well be the last moment of his life.
“I’m ready,” she said, her arm reaching around his back.
Together, they raced for the flames.
With God’s good grace, they were heading for the back door, but there was no way to tell since the acrid smoke made the disorientation complete. Holding Riona’s waist even tighter, James began to pray as they ran. An invocation to God to show pity to those who sailed. The words were wrong, but the sentiment was the same.
Save us.
Suddenly they could breathe again, the smoldering clouds blown away by a brisk evening breeze. But that same wind fanned the flames atop the barn. The rest of the roof abruptly collapsed, falling within the four walls, immediately killing those animals they hadn’t been able to save. Sparks and flames surged skyward like the devil’s talons. The west wall abruptly sagged and fell, sending stones tumbling to the ground in a low-throated roar that sounded too much like laughter.
Half naked and trembling, Riona stared wide-eyed at the scene of destruction. “You saved us.”
“A narrow escape,” he said, turning and looking back at the burning building. “Too narrow.”
There was only one way the door could have been locked, and that was deliberately. Only one person wanted him dead: Drummond. They’d both nearly died because of his hatred.
Slowly, he removed the scorched material from his shoulders, did the same for her. Her hair should have been sodden, but the heat had been so intense that both of them were nearly dry.
“You saved my life,” she said solemnly, the light from the fire casting an orange glow over her face, rendering her hair red and her eyes dark and mysterious.
“But I probably endangered you in the first place,” he told her, wishing that she wouldn’t look at him in such a fashion. There was no fear in her gaze, only amazement, and another look that James told himself he didn’t see. “An ignoble end to die in a barn. I’d much rather perish aboard ship.”
“You’ve given up the sea.”
“That I have,” he said, grateful that she was smiling now. But her regard of him hadn’t changed. She was still watching him the way Iseabal sometimes studied Alisdair.
Wishes, James. You’re only wishing for something that can never happen.
She moved before he could divine her intent. Or perhaps, he told himself later, he knew it well enough but didn’t want to halt her. Reaching up with both hands, she pulled his head down and kissed him.
“I owe you a kiss,” she said against his lips.
“I thought the debt paid,” he said, pulling back and smiling into her face. “But I’m not a fool to question my good fortune.”
Hardly a place to lose his senses, scorched, and singed, and smelling of fire. This brief, incandescent second would vanish only too soon. He pulled her closer, and lost himself in a heated, openmouthed, passionate kiss.
Chapter 20
“Are you all right?” Susanna asked, rushing up and surveying both of them with concern. She nodded. “And you, James?”
He smiled his response. “But perhaps we should begin to gather up the animals,” he said. “And see that the fire is put out.”
“Is there any chance of it spreading?” Susanna asked. “The house is far enough away, but what about the other buildings?”
“I doubt it. Most of the structures are far enough away from each other. But there are several precautions we can take to ensure that the fire’s contained.”
“I would think you’d be more concerned about scandal spreading, Mrs. McKinsey.” Mrs. Parker said, her voice escalating in the sudden silence. “After all, it will destroy you as effectively as any fire.”
Susanna stared, dismayed, at her daughter and James. It was true that Riona was half-dressed and the kiss they’d shared was not one of friendship.
She was not the only person to have witnessed the kiss, either.
Mrs. Parker stood beside her, dressed in a florid crimson wrapper that trailed on the ground like a queen’s robes while Susanna was still attired in her dinner clothes, an apron tied neatly around her waist. Behind her was Maureen, slack jawed and hurriedly dressed, if the askew collar was any indication. Old Ned stood beside them, calmly holding a goat’s tether and making no attempt to stay the animal when it looked longingly toward Mrs. Parker’s slippers.
Susanna raised an eyebrow at him when the animal moved toward the footwear, then turned her attention back to Riona and James.
“Well? Are you going to allow such behavior? Do something!” Mrs. Parker said.
“What do you suggest I do?”
Riona was looking dazed. She staggered back, blinking, then reached out and grabbed James’s arm before evidently realizing that it would be better if there were no contact at all between them. As for James, he simply looked furious.
Frowning, the older woman extended an imperious finger at Riona.
“If you think that I shall allow Captain Hastings to be aligned with such a family, you’re mistaken,” Mrs. Parker was saying. “One incident might be overlooked, but this behavior is beyond tolerance. Not only is she nearly naked, but she’s behaving like a doxy!”
“Perhaps you should return to the house, dear,” Susanna said calmly to Riona. “Put some clothes on and we’ll talk.” She glanced meaningfully at James. “All of us.”
“There is no need for that,” James said, his voice sounding raspy from the smoke. He turned to Mrs. Parker. “I take full responsibility for what you saw. Riona is blameless in this matter.”
“If she were blameless, she would have fought off your advances, sir.” Mrs. Parker drew herself up, attempting to frown down her nose at James, but failing miserably since he towered over her.
James looked as if he’d like to say something not entirely pleasant. Quickly, Susanna stepped in front of him, holding up both hands as if to ward off a confrontation.
“Come, Mrs. Parker,” she said, leading the woman away. Neither James nor Riona was aiding the situation. She glanced over her shoulder. James was leading Riona away, back to the house. Where she fervently hoped her daughter would dress, and quickly.
“Are you saying, madam,” Susanna asked frostily when she and Mrs. Parker were alone, “that you will do everything in your power to dissuade Captain Hastings from aligning himself with our family? I would think on your answer if I were you. I doubt that your reputation will be much enhanced if your part in all of this is learned.”
“My reputation?” Mrs. Parker said, pulling herself up. She appeared to Susanna like a banty rooster at that moment, all puffed chest and braggadocio.
“Indeed,” Susanna said. “Were you not accompanying Riona on the night she was ruined? Was she not under your tutelage? If the fault for her poor reputation be anyone’s, madam, it should be yours. And I will make it known to all and sundry that such is the case. So, before you go bandying your tale about, I would think twice. Otherwise, your own livelihood is bound to suffer. What mother would entrust her daughter to someone with such dubious character?”
“You w
ould not.”
“I would. Having been a widow without means, I know only too well how valued a reputation should be.”
Mrs. Parker sputtered, but she didn’t say a word. Not one word of protest passed her lips, but from the flashing of her eyes, Susanna didn’t doubt that she was thinking her to perdition. Everything that she told the woman was true, including her willingness to spread the tale far and wide to even the scales.
“I think perhaps your time at Tyemorn Manor is over,” Susanna said. “I will pay you what we agreed to, the remainder of your fee due at Maureen’s wedding. On one condition.”
“And that is?” Mrs. Parker asked. The words were so brittle that Susanna thought they might break in midair.
“That you give me your promise that not one word of what you’ve seen at Tyemorn Manor will ever be divulged to another human being.”
“You would trust my word?”
“I have it within my power to ruin you. Do you trust me not to use it?”
It was a stalemate, one of equally matched opponents.
“Men are not the only creatures with honor, Mrs. Parker. For all our differences, I think we can agree on that point.”
The older woman nodded once to signify her agreement.
“You have my promise,” she said a moment later. “And I have yours?”
“You do.”
“The inn is no doubt full with visitors for the horse fair,” Susanna said as they walked back to the house. “I would not want you on the roads at night. Will you agree to stay until morning?”
“That would be better, I suppose,” Mrs. Parker said grudgingly.
“A wise choice,” Susanna said.
She saw her guest to her room and then turned and walked to the family quarters, wondering what she might say to her daughter.
Ned’s words came back to her. What had she wanted to happen? For James to magically solve her dilemma? In all honesty, yes.
She had hoped that Harold McDougal might give up his suit, but the lure of Riona’s fortune was too great. Was there any way out of this conundrum? If there was, she couldn’t imagine what it might be.
