When she returned to her bedroom, he was respectably dressed and pacing by the window. She held out the basket of raw meat pieces she had doctored with her father’s potion. “Feed this to the dogs, and they will sleep for at least an hour.”
“A potion for a potion. I like the way you think, Faith.”
“Be careful, Daniel,” she said. “Granger and his mother are evil to the core. They will not act with honor.”
He nodded, and laid a bewitching kiss behind her ear—the spot where this evening’s activities had shown him that he could kindle a fire within her quicker than he could light his fingers. “We will be careful.” He sported that lazy smile she was coming to adore. “We have to bring them down. To protect you, and Morton.” His carefree smile vanished beneath grim determination. “And to avenge my parents.”
The hard note in his voice concerned her. He would not stop until he had brought the duchess to justice. She gently stroked the muscles under his sleeve, hoping to entice him to linger a little longer. She gave him a final searing kiss. “Morton is fortunate to have you for a brother.”
Letting out a reluctant groan, he released her and walked over to the window.
“Daniel, wait.” She hurried over to him.
With his leg extended over the windowsill, he said, “I have to go.”
His frustrated grimace made her smile with satisfaction. She hugged him and whispered in his ear, “Remember one thing. That no matter what transpires this night, or in the coming days, you will always be my duke.”
He chuckled and she released him. In a blink, he was gone.
Chapter Nineteen
HEAVY CLOUDS HID the moon and gave Daniel and Sir Phillip the perfect cover for their night’s work. They followed the length of the boundary to Morton’s house, listening for the telltale rustle of dogs padding on the other side of the eight-foot ivy covered brick wall. Soon, a soft whine and an answering snuffle and grunt suggested their prey had arrived.
Daniel tossed the meat chunks Faith had given him over the barrier. He and Sir Phillip then waited, crouched by the wall, listening to the dogs eat their fill. If Faith had brewed her potion correctly, the dogs should be asleep long enough for them to get into the mansion, finish their search of the attic, and then get out.
“All went well with you and Lady Faith,” Sir Phillip whispered. It was not a question.
“Does it show, sir?”
“You have not grumped about your life for almost an hour.”
Daniel grinned, remembering the fiery kiss Faith stole from him before she allowed him to leave.
“Of course,” Sir Phillip continued, “if you wax poetic about the lady’s green eyes one more time, I might be forced make you eat one of those doctored meat chunks.”
“You have lost your romantic soul since you married.”
“It certainly wavered the first moment I saw you gape at my wife,” Sir Phillip said. “The sooner you are settled with another woman, the happier I shall be.”
The comment, though lightly said, made Daniel uncomfortable. For months, he had lived in Lady Roselyn’s townhouse, angry with Sir Phillip for being the man the lady loved. Not once had he seen the situation from Sir Phillip’s perspective.
The thumps as each dog slumped on the other side of the barrier signaled that it was time to mount their next assault. Daniel scaled the wall and found the dogs half-asleep, hardly able to raise their heads to growl. He gave Sir Phillip the signal to join him, and then dropped onto the ground on the other side. Within moments, he was heading for the house and the drawing room doors, Sir Phillip at his heels.
Daniel knew this search would be more dangerous than their last foray here, for everyone was home. Daniel took out his lock-picking tools and worked on the door. In short order, he had gained them entry.
Sir Phillip tapped his forearm. “Trenton, I did not mean to offend you earlier.”
“You did not, sir. I value your confidence, more so because it comes after a year of ingratitude from me.”
It was Sir Phillip’s turn to look away. “In my line of work, friends are uncommon. So, when I find someone I trust, I do not take the friendship lightly.”
Sir Phillip considered him a friend! Daniel’s chest swelled with pride.
The two of them made their way inside, heading for the main stairs where they were less likely to run into any servants. On the second floor, raised voices indicated that not everyone in the household slept.
Sir Phillip signaled they should continue up. About to comply, Daniel recognized a voice raised in anger. Morton.
The young duke was not the type to lose his temper. Daniel crept closer to the door that was slightly ajar. Sir Phillip shook his head, but Daniel crouched and peered inside.
Morton stood by the fireplace, his face flushed, his hands clenched. He confronted his mother, who sat on a gilded high-backed chair. “You had no right to do this! You are not God. You cannot play with people’s lives.”
“You will not question my actions, your grace.” The duchess spat the title with contempt.
“By why Trenton?” he asked. “He was a servant.”
Granger came into view from the side of the room. “The man had the audacity to steal Faith from me.” The fire cast Granger’s face in shadows, highlighting his stocky figure and thick arms. “Imagine, a servant, daring to strike me!” He pounded his chest. “He deserved to be poisoned like the rat he was. And why do you care about him, in any case?”
“Daniel Trenton was a good man.” Morton’s voice cracked. “He did not deserve to die.”
“How do you know his full name?” Granger asked. “I had to pry it from that worthless innkeeper. You said you had no knowledge of who had struck me at the stable.”
“Did you help the girl to escape?” his mother asked. “Answer me, boy!” Her tone was cold and deadly. “Are you no longer trustworthy, Andrew?”
Daniel’s blood ran cold. Morton, too, must have recognized his danger, for he went as pale as a Holland sheet.
“Get out of my sight,” his mother said. “And pray your brother convinces me that you are still useful to us.”
Morton ran toward the door.
Daniel flattened against the wall as Morton flung the door open and ran past Daniel, his hands covering his ears to block out Granger’s laughter. The determined set of Morton’s jaw as he sped down the stairs worried Daniel.
Sir Phillip gestured at Daniel to follow him upstairs.
Daniel shook his head, indicating with his fingers how long he would be before they met outside. Then he followed his brother downstairs, keeping his tread quiet.
On the ground floor, he trailed echoing footsteps down a dark twisting corridor that ended at carved double doors. Beneath the closed doors, tendrils of smoke escaped.
He touched the door handle. It was warm. He swung open the door and flames licked at his clothes. He stumbled back, his arms raised to protect his face. The door opened to the conservatory where a fire was spreading. Within the flames, he spotted a moving shadow.
Andrew Joseph Killian, the Duke of Morton, circled in place. Everywhere he pointed, flames burst forth. His brother was setting the room on fire, but had not left himself a path of escape. Wooden tables and chair flamed, leaves and branches were scorched and wooden paneling was ablaze. And Morton was caught in the middle.
“Stop,” Daniel shouted, uncaring who heard him. Smoke had worked its way into his lungs, stinging. He coughed, waving his arm to disperse the fumes. “Stop. You are trapping yourself.”
“I do not care,” came a tearful reply. “I want to die. I should never have been born. Mother says I am a freak of nature. But I am taking all her poisonous plants with me.”
“You will not die,” Daniel said. “Any more than I am dead.”
His brother looked
toward the door. “Trenton?”
From farther along the corridor, chatter arose. The house was awakening to danger. Daniel took a breath and dived into the flames, becoming one with them. He rolled across the room and sprang back into his normal self beside his brother.
He grinned at Morton’s stunned look. “There is no doubt now that we are brothers.” He held out his hand. “Call me Daniel.”
The duke stared at him, wide-eyed. Then he extended a hand that clasped Daniel’s tentatively at first, but then gave it a vigorous shake. “May I call you Edward instead? It is what I have called you in my head all of my life. And I am Andrew.”
“Pleasure, Andrew,” Daniel extricated his hand, having to pry his fingers from his brother’s fierce grip.
“How did you change yourself completely into flames like that?” Andrew asked, ending the question with a cough.
“Now is not the time for fire-shifting lessons.” Daniel crouched to where the air was clearer, tugging Andrew down with him. “We must get out of here before the smoke kills us.”
For the first time, Andrew looked around at what he had done. He cringed from the flames that consumed wooden tables, scorched cracked pots, and sprang up beams to spread toward the ceiling. He turned back to Daniel with understanding of the danger they were in. “I do not know how to do what you did. But I am glad you are alive. Now, save yourself. Go, quickly.”
“I will not leave without you. I can teach you to shift.”
Andrew shook his head. “There is no time.”
No, but since they both possessed a similar talent, that might be enough. Daniel centered on his ability to shift and it hummed in response, like a hive of bees. He then touched Andrew’s forehead and sensed a similar humming in his brother.
His brother’s eyes widened. So he, too, felt that peculiar echo. “Do not fight me, Andrew,” Daniel said and shifted, extending himself toward Andrew. He only prayed he was not about to burn his brother.
Daniel’s flames brushed Andrew, and his brother instinctively mimicked the shift, exploding into an uncontrolled inferno. Feeling him spread apart, Daniel enveloped the essence of his brother, teaching him to hold himself together. Andrew quickly picked up on Daniel’s cues, and he could sense the boy’s panic receding.
Daniel wished he had time to explain about this state of existing, of how their perception no longer showed tables and walls and smoking plants but rather images of heat that rose and fell, depending on the intensity of the object.
Instead, he rolled toward the windows, stopping to check on his brother. Andrew focused intently on Daniel, and then he mimicked the move. Satisfied, Daniel continued forward when a beam crashed in front of him. Andrew’s flames flinched, but Daniel sailed over the beam to spread himself over the flaming wood and absorb its angry energy. Then he moved past it.
At Daniel’s silent urging, Andrew crept over the charred and flaming wood and passed the beam to join him.
There was one last obstacle to be confronted—closed glass doors leading to the outside. Rolling himself into a tight ball of flame, Daniel sped toward the glass and slammed into it. The glass melted and he was through, sailing into the cool night.
He shifted back to his normal self. Andrew tumbled out beside him and transformed into his human form, alive, unscathed and giddy with excitement.
“You are a quick learner,” Daniel said.
“That was grand!”
Shouts warned them of approaching company. He grabbed Andrew’s arm and sprinted into a grove of trees.
Servants who came around the side of the house quickly formed a bucket line, with the duchess shouting orders and insults with equal ferocity.
“Sir Phillip is in the house,” Daniel said. “I need to warn him about the fire.”
Andrew’s arm shot out and stopped him. “Everyone is vacating. All the commotion will tell him there is trouble. And look there, Charles will see you if you go anywhere near the house.”
Indeed, ignoring the fire, Granger was searching the surrounding trees. “He searches for us.”
“For me.” Andrew stepped deeper into the shadows.
If his brother had not been with him, Daniel would have been tempted to lure Granger toward him and deal with the brute once and for all. But Andrew was here. As for Sir Phillip, he could get out in the confusion of the mass exodus. Unfortunately, the foolhardy knight was more likely to see everyone’s attention on the fire as the perfect opportunity to do a thorough, uninterrupted search.
If he could not deal with Granger, or help Sir Phillip, he could at least keep Andrew out of harm’s way. “Follow me.”
He led his brother toward the wall he had scaled on the way in. That was the most likely place for Sir Phillip to find him. He paused as he approached the insensible dogs.
Andrew observed the hounds with concern. Breathing heavy, he bent over, his hands pressed on his knees as if he were utterly exhausted. “Are they dead?”
“Sleeping. But they will awaken shortly.” Daniel patted Andrew on his back. “Eat this.”
Andrew straightened and took the strip of dried beef Daniel offered. Without biting into it, he glanced warily at the dogs.
Daniel grinned, took the meat back and took a bite to prove it was not doctored. Then he returned it to Andrew. “Eat. The type of intense shifting we did drains a body. Be sure to have a full meal later tonight and sleep late on the morrow.”
Sweat beaded Andrew’s forehead as he set to chewing on his piece of beef. He glanced back the way they had come. The house was no longer visible, but billows of smoke rose from the windows. “Will they be able to put out the fire?”
Daniel shrugged. “Your mother has many servants.” Thunder rumbled overhead. “And the weather appears to be cooperating.”
“I hope none of her plants survive!”
The young man’s vehement tone reminded him of what Andrew had been attempting to do. Daniel turned him around to face him. “Nothing is worth risking your life,” he said in a severe tone. “Never let me catch you at that game again.”
Andrew gave him a startled look and then broke into a wide smile that did not seem the least bit repentant. “How is it that you are alive? Mother said—”
“I know,” Daniel said. “I heard.”
“You did?”
“I was outside her sitting room when she spilled the news. I am sorry I could not warn you ahead of time.”
Andrew stepped back, his face curious. “Why were you and Sir Phillip in my house?”
He gave his brother a considering glance and decided to be honest. “Sir Phillip and I came to search for a couple of stolen buckles, each set with a large ruby.”
Andrew’s gaze skittered away.
So, his brother did know about the missing items. Daniel had been afraid of that. “Sir Phillip believes your family may be involved in the theft. It is urgent that we retrieve those buckles. The regent is to present them to Wellington during the Burley ball.”
Andrew steadfastly avoided his gaze. “You should leave now. Before anyone finds you here and blames you for the fire.”
“Andrew, you should come away with us tonight. Sir Phillip will help you. I am sure of it.”
His brother frowned at him and then turned toward the house. “But I cannot leave her. She needs me.”
Daniel could not understand his brother’s attachment to a woman who had abused him all of his life. “She is neither sane nor safe to be around.”
“I will be all right. I told you. She needs me.”
“Only for her vile purposes.” He took his brother’s arm. “Once your usefulness is over, what will she do to you then?”
Andrew pulled away. “You do not understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
Andrew remained silent, merely shakin
g his head. And then Daniel did understand. His brother sought the same thing Daniel had craved all of his life. Someone to love him. And, like Daniel, he was seeking it in all the wrong places.
“Your mother has not given up on her crazy schemes.”
“What do you mean?”
“She attempted to poison Burley today, and sent a note to Faith saying that she would cure her father if Faith agreed to marry you. Your mother becomes bolder and deadlier.”
“Is Burley all right?” Andrew asked in a worried tone.
“Faith acted quickly to expel the poison. The duke is recovering. But that is not our main predicament. Once your mother achieves her goal of marrying you to Faith and she bears an heir, she will kill you, as she did my parents.”
“She has hinted that something similar will happen to me if I do not do as she says.”
If the duchess had been standing before Daniel, he would not have hesitated to strangle her. In a controlled voice, he said, “She will not harm you or Faith, that I promise.”
“How?” Andrew’s voice sank lower. “No one can stop her.”
To break the tension, Daniel forced himself to grin. “You made a valiant attempt by burning her poisonous plants.”
Andrew did not see the humor of his words and set to roaming about the trees, touching a branch, flicking at a leaf, or crushing spring blossoms. “If she finds out I started that fire, she will be furious. She hates it when people go into her greenhouse, or if they take her things.”
“Do you take her things?” Daniel asked. “Like the emerald broach you showed me?”
Andrew remained silent, pacing between the flowering chestnuts like a caged bear trapped behind wooden bars.
They were running out of time. Drops of rain pattered hard on leaves, and Daniel stepped under a chestnut’s canopy to keep from getting soaked. He took a deep breath and got a healthy whiff of the sweet spring blossoms.
He had a family to care for now. That came above other concerns of etiquette or hurt feelings. Still, his heart hammered at what he must say to Andrew so he measured his words for absolute clarity. “Andrew, during the Burley Ball, I intend to put myself forward as the rightful Duke of Morton.”
A Scorching Dilemma Page 22
