Through the Fire

by Elizabeth Johns

  “Yardley might.”

  “You brought Yardley with you?” Margaux could not believe it. “Are you betrothed?”

  “No, we are not. And he insisted. As did his mother. The Season is over, and they were on their way to their country house anyway.”

  “Dear me. I hope you will explain later.” Margaux laughed. “The villagers will be too terrified to step into the house if they know the Duke and Duchess are present.”

  “They will not know until it is too late. They do know how to behave,” she chided.

  “Do they? Around those they consider well beneath them?”

  “That is unfair, Marg.”

  “Perhaps. He only disapproves of society, then.”

  “It is easy to become jaded when everyone toad-eats you all the time.”

  “Very well. I will give him another chance. He approves of you, so he cannot be all bad. If he makes you happy, I will try to be happy for you.”

  “I am not sure.”

  Chapter 21

  Margaux walked down the stairs arm in arm with her sister. She had not realized how much she had missed Jolie. She had poured her heart out to her and told her about the crazed Mulligans and their desire to harm her. She had struggled to maintain her composure so she did not appear blotched and with a red nose before the whole village. But she felt relief, knowing she no longer held the burden of her fear and guilt of her marriage inside. If only their other triplet, Anjou, were here. Margaux knew Anjou was unharmed, for Margaux knew she would sense if her sister were in danger, but missed her nonetheless.

  Everything suddenly seemed so real to her with Jolie and Yardley there. She saw him standing across the room, speaking to her father and her husband. She rarely disliked people before knowing them, but she held a very low opinion of the Duke. He would not make her sister happy. But if anything came of the courtship he would be her brother, and she must make an effort to be civil.

  She scanned the room. Seamus had come for the celebration, and his sisters were adoring him and, no doubt, filling his ears with all of their adventures since coming to live at the castle. Jolie was pulling her towards the Duke of Yardley, and she knew she might as well have it over with.

  “Welcome to our home, your Grace. I trust you had a pleasant journey?” she asked, while offering him her hand, though her voice was still strained. She was going to be hoarse again before the night was half over.

  “Lady Craig, I can see you have received excellent medical attention. I am pleased we find you recovering.” He took her hand and grazed a kiss over her fingers.

  Margaux had to fight a blush. Yardley was behaving in a kind and gracious manner. What was he about? She wondered, although she knew she was being unkind.

  “Thank you, sir. Forgive our tardiness.”

  “Forgiven. I understand the need to keep your sister to yourself.”

  He gave her sister a knowing look. Margaux was going to be ill.

  “I must greet the Duchess, if you will excuse me.”

  “May I join you?” Gavin asked as he took her arm and led her into the ballroom where the servants were lighting the last of the candles and the musicians were tuning their instruments.

  She smiled at his rhetorical question since he had already led her away. She noticed her mother speaking with the Duchess of Yardley and Aunt Ida near the terrace. It was going to be unbearably hot with the terrace doors closed and a full room of exuberant dancing.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I am trying to remain calm. It is nice to have my sister here. It makes the situation with the Mulligans seem like a nightmare I needed to wake up from.”

  “I am glad she is here for you, but do not let down your guard tonight. I have told Yardley of the situation, but we will remain discreet. I do not want word getting out and everyone panicking. Besides, we do not know who is on their side. Someone must have been helping them.”

  Margaux swallowed. She had not considered that. Would someone betray her? Many of the villagers did not like her. Many might feel as the Mulligans did.

  “There is a Runner at each door, though only the front entrance is open,” her husband was saying.

  “Do the Runners know what the Mulligans look like? They cannot have seen them before,” Margaux asked as the thought suddenly occurred to her.

  Gavin’s face paled. “Dear God. No, of course they have not. Forgive me. I must speak with them.”

  She watched her husband move out of the room with haste, so she made her way to greet the Duchess on her own, pretending that she was happy to be there, and that the Mulligans were not trying to kill her.

  When it was time to form the receiving line, Gavin informed her that he had taken some of the servants from their posts to help guard the front door. She felt her self-control threaten to abandon her. She was at someone else’s mercy, someone who had tried to kill her more than once. She pasted her best smile to her lips and stood in the line.

  As they greeted the guests, no one was as openly hostile as they had been the first day in the village. No one was friendly either. It was an improvement.

  When the time came for the dancing to begin, Gavin indicated for Yardley to do the honours with her sister.

  “Margaux canna dance yet, and I will remain by her side.”

  “I cannot ask you to sit out every dance for me, my lord,” Margaux protested.

  “In normal circumstances, I might be persuaded, but tonight I willna leave you. It is not such a bad bargain, my lady.” He smiled down at her and her stomach did a flip.

  All she could do was nod.

  He led her around the floor and introduced her to some of the nearby gentry who had come from beyond the village. They watched the dancing become more boisterous and loud as the evening progressed, after the completion of the stately opening quadrille. Some of the older children joined in the dancing, and the drawing room was filled with many of the younger ones playing games. The room was suffocating to her, and she wanted the night to be over.

  There were five sets of dancing before the supper began. Once the plates were filled and most everyone had taken their seats, Gavin tapped his glass with a fork to make an announcement.

  “Guid evening, everyone, and thank you for joining us to celebrate another successful harvest. It is a time of mixed emotions for us, having just lost Iain and his family, but he was a jolly fellow and would have been offended if we’d cancelled the ball on his behalf. I raise my glass to him and to you.”

  “Hear, hear” the crowd echoed.

  “And to my lovely wife, who I doona doubt is having second thoughts about marrying me after all, but I have hope, since she hasna left me yet.”

  He dimpled and gave her a sheepish grin. Margaux’s knees felt weak.

  “If you willna mind the liberty, I intend to have a waltz played so my wife may join me for one dance this evening. She is still recovering, but her doctor will allow this one exception.”

  He winked at her. She felt her face flush. There were a few chuckles and a few murmurs, but she hoped the villagers would understand.

  Gavin held his hand out to her and she placed her hand in his. She could feel her heart racing, but whether it was from her husband’s touch or the crowd watching them she did not know.

  But when the music started and her husband placed his hand on her waist and took her bandaged hand gently and held it to him, she lost herself in the moment, allowing herself that small glimpse of heaven. Their eyes met and held. She never wanted the dance to end.

  She was partially conscious of being joined on the floor by a few other couples swirling about in their periphery; Yardley had led Beaujolais out, her parents were there, and a few of the local gentry who knew the dance. The villagers stood and watched—some admiring and some disapproving, to judge by their expressions. Margaux could not care in that moment. It was glorious to be in her husband’s arms.

  And then, Margaux knew they were there. She could feel it. But where?

  �
��What is it?” Gavin asked. She must have become tense.

  “I feel them.” She was barely able to speak the words.

  Gavin looked up and began to scan the room. She also tried to look about. There were so many faces unknown to her. The Runners hadn’t ever seen them, had they? How could they be expected to keep them away? She began to break out in a cold sweat.

  “Keep smiling. Act normally until we find them,” he said, looking down to smile at her.

  “How will we find them before it is too late? There are too many people here.”

  “I am going through each face one by one. I gave the signal to Peters and he is combing through the crowd as we speak. Doona leave my side.”

  She nodded and tried to calm herself with deep breaths, though she felt as if no air were making it to her lungs. Her body was trembling despite her best efforts to control it. Gavin swirled her to the edge of the room and kept her there, surveying the throng with every turn.

  Lawn bowls, bag and spoon races, oranges and lemons, draughts, and an area for dancing…what should she try next? Maili surveyed the almost chaotic scene with bliss. And to think she lived here! She still had to pinch herself to believe she wasn’t dreaming. Alberfoyle had been pleasant enough, but she had longed for a family again. And now she had one.

  As she waited her turn for a game of draughts, she spied the table with desserts and decided it was impossible to have too many ices, though she had already indulged in one. She watched Catriona dancing a jig with a local boy she had never seen before, and decided to peek through the terrace doors to watch the adults. She sighed wistfully as she caught a glimpse of Lord and Lady Craig waltzing. The two of them, arm in arm, fitted every picture of a fairy tale in her young mind.

  Maili turned when she heard something sounding like a yelp then a whimper in the nearby hedge close to the gardener’s shed, and walked over to investigate. Mayhap an animal had been caught up that needed help. As she drew near to the shed, a dirty older woman came out from behind it.

  “M-m-may I help you?” Maili asked nervously, instantly stepping back from the woman who had strange eyes and messy hair. She searched in vain for her nurse, wondering what she should do.

  “I need you to take me to Lord Craig! My husband is hurt and I need help!” she exclaimed.

  Without another thought Maili took the woman’s hand.

  Peters was waiting for Gavin when they made it to the side of the ballroom.

  “Have you news, Peters?” Gavin asked anxiously.

  “Maili’s nurse cannot find her,” the Runner said as quietly as he could in the noise-filled ballroom.

  Gavin sucked in his breath. It had never occurred to him that the girls could be in danger. “Do you think they have taken her?”

  “I don’t know, m’lord. But we have not found her in with the other children and we wanted to inform you straight away.”

  Gavin nodded absent-mindedly, searching his brain for ideas. He should not panic. It was not likely that Maili had been taken.

  Margaux touched his arm. “Does Catriona know?”

  Peters nodded. “The nurse found her first before coming to me. I’ve sent the guards to scour the grounds.”

  “We need to search the house before we panic,” Gavin suggested, though he could feel Margaux’s tension when she heard the guards were no longer at the doors.

  “She might have gone to her room or to the nursery,” Margaux suggested. “I can ask Jolie to go with me.”

  “No. You will not leave my side. We can ask your mother.”

  Margaux nodded and began searching the crowd for her parents.

  Suddenly the crowd began to part and the music stopped—along with Margaux’s heart. For there, hand in hand with Mrs. Mulligan, was Maili.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  “Stay calm, mo grá,” Gavin said quietly, keeping his eyes focused on Mrs. Mulligan.

  “Maili,” Gavin said, with a calm he did not feel, and held out his hand to his girl, who clearly had no idea of the danger she was in.

  “Not so fast,” Mrs. Mulligan hissed. The woman pulled Maili to her in a vice-like grip about both arms, and the little girl yelped with pain. The woman held a gardener’s dibble in her other hand.

  “Please, Mrs. Mulligan. Your complaint is with me, not an innocent child.” Gavin attempted to reason with the woman, who had clearly lost all sense of reality, as she did not appear to have bathed or combed her hair in days. Maili began to cry, the noise resounding in the otherwise silent ballroom. The entire crowd stood paralyzed, watching with horror as their beloved Mrs. Mulligan stood demon-like before them. Most were unaware what their vicar and his wife had done to Margaux and the orphans.

  The woman looked to Margaux and spat at her.

  “Jezebel!”

  The woman was possessed. Gavin had occasionally seen soldiers lose their minds on the battlefield, and he knew there was no point in trying to reason with her. He did need to pry Maili from her arms before she could be apprehended. The only place for her was an asylum.

  “This woman has been sent by the devil! He sent this temptress to ruin you and corrupt you!” Mrs. Mulligan was ranting, her eyes glazed and unseeing.

  “Mrs. Mulligan,” Gavin said gently, “may we go outside and talk about this?”

  “No! You have been seduced by her lies. I don’t want to talk! She must be punished!”

  “What do you mean, Mrs. Mulligan?” Gavin asked, in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

  “The devil must die!”

  The devil, meaning Margaux.

  Gavin had to remain calm. He could feel Margaux trembling beside him, but she had not said a word. This needed to end quickly, but the village needed to see him try to do what he could for her.

  “Mrs. Mulligan, where is the vicar?” he asked calmly.

  “He was weak.” She narrowed her eyes.

  Good God, had she murdered him? Gavin could see Peters, Yardley, and Ashbury sneaking up behind Mrs. Mulligan. He willed himself not to look at them and fix his attention on Mrs. Mulligan. He had to distract her.

  “Mrs. Mulligan, I am none of these things you accuse me of.” Margaux spoke, though her voice was still weak.

  “Lies!” she hissed.

  Beaujolais stepped next to Margaux to defend her, into Mrs. Mulligan’s line of vision.

  “You double before my eyes, God save our souls! Seize them!” she shouted to the crowd hysterically.

  She had lifted one arm to point at the sisters with the sharp-pointed dibble, and Ashbury almost had Maili. Gavin shook his head at the Marquess. It was not worth risking.

  The crowd was still standing around them, silent, listening to every word. Shock was written on every face.

  “Let us go out and talk, shall we?” Gavin suggested again.

  The woman narrowed her eyes, but followed through the doors Gavin opened.

  Margaux felt some small relief at being out of the ballroom, though there was little breeze.

  They were all now on the terrace, but Mrs. Mulligan was still holding on to Maili with a fierce grip. The little girl had stopped crying, but was clearly terrified. This could not go on indefinitely.

  “Please let her go. Take me instead.” Margaux pleaded.

  Gavin squeezed her arm in warning. She ignored it and stepped forward to offer herself.

  The crazed woman released Maili, who ran into Gavin’s arms. Mrs. Mulligan lunged for Margaux, who held the dagger in her good hand. Margaux jumped back out of the way, desperately hoping it would not come to a scuffle between her and the woman. She came perilously close to the terrace edge and grabbed onto the ledge to steady herself. Margaux tried to calm her breathing, though all she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears. She waited for the woman’s next move. The look in Mrs. Mulligan’s eyes would forever haunt her—if she lived through this.

  Mrs. Mulligan stumbled, but recovered and leapt toward her again, the sharp tool thrust directly at her. Margaux deflect
ed the weapon with her bad hand, but her good hand with the dagger was pinned behind her against the ledge. She felt her strength weaken as she barely managed to shove the woman away. She saw her father and Gavin approaching from behind, but Mrs. Mulligan steadied herself and immediately charged at her again.

  What happened next was a blur. Before anyone else could reach her, someone stepped in front of her and pushed Mrs. Mulligan over the railing. There was a scream and a horrible thudding sound.

  When Margaux had the wherewithal to look over and see what had become of Mrs. Mulligan, Aunt Ida was standing beside Margaux with a satisfied gleam.

  “Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord,” Aunt Ida whispered.

  Chapter 22

  The ball had ended abruptly after Mrs. Mulligan’s death. Margaux would ever be grateful that her mother had been there to take over her duties and see the guests on their way. She could not have smiled and said polite trivialities to anyone. It had been a relief to be ushered upstairs instead. Her mother’s maid had whisked her out of her ball gown and brushed out her hair in a soothing ritual that almost made the evening seem commonplace.

  She sat now in her room, in the armchair by the hearth, her knees pulled up to her chest, trembling and staring at the window. She had sent her mother and sister away, needing to be alone. The horrid final moments with Mrs. Mulligan played over and over in her mind. She had not realized Aunt Ida was even there. Apparently her aunt was there more often than anyone knew, thank heavens.

  Margaux’s reflection was not to last long. Maili was too scared to fall asleep, the nurse exclaimed in nervous tones when she came for Margaux.

  She had been able to discover parts of the story from the nurse and Catriona, both wracked with guilt for not keeping better track of Maili.

  As they made their way quickly to the nursery, Margaux was able to ascertain from the agitated nurse disjointed parts of what had happened. It seemed Mrs. Mulligan had drawn Maili away from the other children when she had been watching the dancing inside the ballroom. She’d told Maili her husband was hurt and needed Lord Craig, and so naturally Maili had wished to help. The footmen and guards posted near the door had gone to search for the girl as soon as she was discovered missing, and had not seen Mrs. Mulligan enter the ballroom with Maili.