Lilian tasted the wine which still lingered on his lips and quickly warmed to his kiss. She opened her mouth slightly, and his tongue took advantage, invading the cavity, teasing and caressing her own. Her body began to heat in response. She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to soar, carried by the delicious scent of bay leaf and bergamot, the fragrance of him she had memorized since the day of her accident. I have wanted this all evening. His scent pulled her in, and she kissed him back, her arms softly resting about his neck.
Booted feet walking across the wooden floor of the dining room roused them from the kiss and she pulled back, attempting to regain her composure and slow down her own ragged breathing before they were discovered.
“You look perfectly presentable,” he whispered, sitting straighter in his own chair.
Viscount Yarstone and her sister appeared in the doorway. “Would you mind if we joined you?” Yarstone asked.
“Not at all. Please do,” Harlow replied. He stood and offered her sister the chair.
“That is very kind,” Lydia acknowledged, “but I enjoy leaning over the railings—dreadfully indecorous of me, I know! The scent of honeysuckle is one of my favourites and the perfume is particularly lovely at night.”
“Felicitations to the both of you on your engagement.” Harlow extended his hand to Yarstone, who shook it heartily.
“Thank you, Harlow,” Yarstone replied. “I cannot wait to make Lydia my bride. I have been pinching myself all day to make sure I am not dreaming,” he added.
Lydia gave a nervous laugh. “Mama seems overjoyed, and will have a new diversion, although I do rather dread meeting that horrible Lady Poinz again in the village. Why is she even here?”
“What happened, my dear?” Yarstone asked. “I do not believe we have spoken of it.”
Lydia related the incident, drawing out every detail of her mother’s reproach to the woman.
“Lilian and I were astonished,” she declared. “The woman should have a care. Our Mama can be fierce when she is protecting one of us.”
“Was she attacking one of you?” Yarstone asked, raising a brow.
“It seemed to me she was making a point at Lilian’s expense. Mama was not about to accept such behaviour and gave Lady Poinz a cutting set-down. I was most impressed.”
Lilian grimaced. Mama would be most embarrassed if she heard herself being discussed so.
“Did you, by any chance, see a man wearing black while you were on your walk earlier today?” Lilian ventured to ask.
“What are you speaking of, Lilian? Did you seen such a person?” Harlow asked, his voice tight with some emotion she could not quite determine.
“I thought I saw him earlier today, shortly after they left for a walk,” she said, motioning to Lydia and Richard, “but when I asked Mary to look, he had disappeared, assuming he even existed. However, I have never been one to see things that are non-existent. I thought it best to mention it to Father.”
“No, I did not see anyone. Did you, Richard?” Lydia asked, concern clear in her voice.
“The only person with us was your maid,” responded Yarstone.
After a moment of silence, Yarstone and Lydia returned to the drawing room.
“We are behind you, Lydia,” Lilian informed her sister, then releasing the brake on her chair so that Harlow could push it.
Lilian turned her chair to face him. She wished they could stay on the veranda a little longer, but with Lydia and Richard leaving, it was not appropriate.
“Wait. You saw someone watching the house?” he asked, his voice low.
“I thought I did, but he disappeared,” she responded, feeling a little unsure now. Perhaps she should not have mentioned it. She felt silly.
“Can you describe him?”
“Not very well. He was too far away. He wore black and had a large blot of black on his face…like a moustache, although it was not clear from the window.” Now she was worrying that there had been someone.
“One more thing.” He lifted up her chin. “You mean a great deal to me. I have work to do in the village tomorrow but would ask you to make sure Winston or your father are with you if you leave the house.”
“Should I fear something?” Her throat suddenly felt as though it was closing. Was she in danger?
“I do not think so, but what you have related leaves me concerned. I will return again late tomorrow evening.”
“I will do as you say.” She wondered if her father had found anything after she had commented on it to him earlier and decided she would ask him in the morning.
Harlow brushed a quick kiss across her lips and pushed her chair towards the parlour.
Mama spoke up at their arrival. “We may have all enjoyed our dinner a little more than usual. We were all about to retire.”
“I think I will make an early night of it as well,” Harlow replied. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. I believe I will spend what is left of the evening in my bedchamber. Good night.” He sketched a bow and left on his words.
Later, Lilian lay awake, thinking about the day. Cooper lay on the pillow next to her and she pulled him closer, nuzzling him. She felt a sense of calmness with Harlow in the house—there was no other way to describe it.
The next morning, Lilian hurried to dress and had Winston bring her downstairs to the breakfast parlour, with Cooper behind her, to break her fast, hoping she would see Lord Harlow before he and Lord Worsley left. Her father, Lord Worsley, and Lord Harlow were already eating.
“Good morning, daughter.” The Earl stood up as Winston eased his daughter’s chair to the table, placing her in the empty space to Lord Harlow’s left. “Cook has prepared you something special.” He gestured to a footman who brought a dish to her and removed the cover.
“Pancakes!” She clapped her hands together. “I whispered to Cook just yesterday that it had been a while since I had enjoyed a good pancake. This is wonderful. With sausage and syrup, it is my favourite!” She looked down at Cooper, who sat patiently looking at her. “I will share a piece with you, sweet boy,” she whispered, and tearing off a corner, slid it under the table, hiding it from her father.
“Lilian, the footman placed Cooper’s dish in the corner, which is already beyond the bounds of most households,” her father chided gently, turning his gaze to the small bowl sitting near the door.
Fancy getting caught, she chastised herself as she felt the warmth of colour stealing up her neck.
“Daughter, I have just been speaking with Lords Harlow and Worsley about the man you saw by the lake yesterday.” He put down his fork and spoke softly; a deep frown creased his forehead. “You had not imagined him. Winston and I found fresh footprints in a muddy area at the edge of the lake you described. They could not have been made by your sister or Lord Yarstone, since they were together. These prints were on the smallish side for a man, but they showed the presence of only one person.”
Harlow inclined his head in her direction. “Lady Lilian, please stay close to the house until Max and I look into this.” His voice was very sombre.
She gave an affirmative nod of her head and looked down at her chair. “I will do my best. I have not been about the grounds in the last year,” she said, struggling to keep self-pity from her voice.
Harlow reached over with his left hand and covered hers for a moment. His touch sent familiar butterflies to her stomach. What I would give to be closer to him, to place my head on his chest and run my fingers through his hair. She wanted all of that and much more—so much more that she did not understand.
Lord Worsley looked across the table at Harlow. “We should be on our way, I think.”
Harlow finished with his napkin and stood up. “We may be back late tonight, your lordship.”
“You have a task to perform. Take your time and get it done to the best of your ability,” her father returned.
Lilian knew better than to ask, yet she could not help but wonder what they were doing in Tintagel.
“Are you ready
, Cooper? Shall we go to the back portico and play with your ball?” She reached into her pocket and withdrew the blue tethered ball her mother had given her. She showed Cooper, and he jumped on her lap, intent on playing with it. “Please allow us a few minutes to remove from the house.” She took her puppy, and the two of them rode together to the portico.
Cooper loves to play ball, she thought. I wish I had brought the larger one I made. He enjoys shaking it in his teeth until it surrenders, she chuckled, tossing the ball for her dog.
“I smell smoke, Cooper,” she remarked after some minutes of play. She sniffed the air and looked around her, trying to determine what was burning. “The stables! Oh, no!” She rang the bell hanging near her on the portico and frantically wheeled her chair down the path towards the fire. The bricked path her father had made for her sloped slightly down hill, making getting to the stable quicker. Cooper ran ahead of her, barking furiously and repeatedly trying to jump in her lap. He seemed to want her to stop. However, Lilian could only think of her horse, Danby, who would perish in a fire unless released from his stall.
“Barney!” She shouted repeatedly, without response. She wheeled her chair as fast as she could, praying she did not tip, and relieved to see the front of the stable was free of fire. Tears streaming, and calling his name, she manoeuvred her chair towards Danby’s stall. The small dog continued to protest. She would not risk her dog’s life, too.
“Cooper, get help!” She pointed the dog back towards the house. He barked in protest, jumping on her and running towards the door, trying to tell her to come with him, but eventually stopped and ran outside.
Lilian wheeled as fast as she could towards her horse, screaming his name. She could hear fear in his whinny and that of Ginger, her sister’s horse. The stable was already overwarm, and the smell of smoke was almost suffocating. She yelled again for Barney and the grooms, but no one answered. The stable was large and could comfortably hold well over two dozen horses when filled. Danby’s stall was now about twenty feet ahead. Where can everyone be? She pushed the wheels harder, seeing a wall of smoke encroaching from the back of the stable. She had to get to him. The only option was to cut him loose. Reaching the edge of his stall, with no thought for what she was doing, she stood up and leaned against the partition separating Danby's stall from her sister's horse. Her feet dragged unsteadily and after a few steps, she felt too weak to continue. Exhausted and gasping from the smoke, she saw the cane her sister had given her, hanging close enough to reach. She pulled herself closer to the partition and stretched to reach the cane…until, at last, she was able to lift it from the wall. Leaning heavily on it, Lilian pushed herself to walk. Just a few steps, please.
Awkwardly, she struggled along his stall towards the manger. Finally getting close enough, she reached over and freed Danby from his tether. Her horse whinnied louder and began nudging her with his head to climb on him. Gagging from the smoke, she steadied herself and tore off a section of her gown. Soaking it in his bucket of water, she then fashioned it over her nose and mouth.
“Run, Danby!” she ordered, but her horse would not leave. What is wrong with him? The horse grabbed the fabric of her gown in his teeth and backed up, trying to drag her from the stall. I cannot leave Ginger. With every last ounce of strength, she pulled herself up on the cane and inched around the wall that separated them, disengaging the chain across the heel end of the stall and reaching for Ginger’s rope and finally unhooking her headstall. The mare ran towards the open door, but still Danby stayed. Instead, he pushed her with his nose and stamped his hooves. Could he want her to climb on him? Lilian dearly wanted to try, except her strength faltered, and again, she screamed for him to go. Still, he remained. Desperate, she looked for her chair, but it was almost ten feet away. It might as well have been halfway across the sea. The fire had grown too close. Fire licked at the thick ceiling beams and the thick smoke billowed towards them, choking and almost blinding her. Fearing the roof would soon cave in, Lilian dropped to her stomach and crawled towards her chair, encouraged only by the soft nickers of her horse and the continued pushes of his nose.
The pounding of footsteps and Cooper’s barks closed in on Lilian’s fading senses. Then she felt herself being scooped up into warm arms and held tightly against a muscled chest.
“I have you, Lilian. Stay with me! You are safe now. I will never let you go.” Harlow’s voice broke, but she warmed to it.
“Is my daughter still breathing?” It was her father’s ragged voice. She heard other male voices, frantically issuing orders and saying her name. She wanted to answer but could not.
“Yes, thank God. She still breathes.”
“We moved Barney on to the grass beyond the yard and have sent for the doctor.”
Warm teardrops fell on her face, and she fluttered her eyes. “My dog, my horse…?”
“They saved your life, my dearest one. They are safe. Thank God we got to you in time.” Harlow pulled her close against him.
Her nostrils burned from the acrid smoke, yet she could still smell his pleasing scent. His heartbeat thumped powerfully against her ear.
“I am safe,” she muttered hoarsely, and closed her eyes.
Chapter 16
Harlow and Max had gathered necessary supplies for the day and were heading out of the door to collect their horses. Lord Avalon had generously asked Cook to provide some sandwiches, fruits, and cheeses for the three men, while they waited for the operation to take place. Winston opened the door for them, and Lilian’s dog shot through his legs and ran to Harlow, barking madly. The small dog repeatedly jumped up against his leg and then ran a short distance in front of him until the men realized the puppy wanted them to follow. As soon as they were clear of the doorway, Harlow smelled acrid smoke of a fire.
“The stables are on fire!” Max pointed towards a plume of grey-black smoke.
“Get Lord Avalon,” Harlow turned and shouted to Winston before running behind Max down the brick path. The two men hastened after the dog, which had calmed a little and was racing ahead. The back of the stables was burning, the roof ablaze with orange flame and thick smoke, and with no back door to the stables, the black smoke was bellowing forth. Cooper had been alone, and Lilian was nowhere to be seen. In sudden horror, Harlow realized that Lilian was probably in there. Panting more from fear than exertion, they charged into the stable yard and met a young groom who had moved as many horses as possible out into the paddocks.
They found Barney unconscious, and his body pulled behind a blanket chest in the harness room. The large lantern was still hanging in the entrance, but he had already suspected the cause was one of the ones along the passage fronting the stalls. As if of one mind, both men took off their shirts, soaked them in a nearby trough and held them over their heads. Lord Avalon and Yarstone arrived as they began to fight their way through the acrid smoke and at once did the same.
Harlow recalled that Danby’s stall was closer to the feed room and away from the fire. As he and the other men ventured into the burning structure, they met a groom shooing his and Max’s horses from the back of the stable and breathed a sigh of relief. Several male servants from the house had also run in to help with the horses, and Max called a servant to run for the veterinarian.
“Have you seen Lady Lilian?” Harlow asked loudly. The groom shook his head.
“I ’asn’t seen Barney, neither. Had to get these ’orses out afore I looked, sir. There are still two more horses in ’ere. I started at the far end, see, nearest the fire.” The man pointed toward the stalls at the other end of the row, where Danby was housed.
A ginger-coloured mare ran past them, followed by sounds of a horse still in distress. The men ran towards the sound of stamping. Then they heard a woman scream. The piercing sound came from the direction of Danby’s stall. Harlow chased along the passage as though he had wings. He found Lilian on the ground, her horse alternately nudging her and tugging at her skirts, clearly trying to drag her towards the door. In her righ
t hand she clutched a wooden cane.
Thinking her dead, Harlow picked her up and pulled her close to his heart, begging her not to leave him. The sight of her hair hanging dirty and limp around her shoulders caused his heart to sink. He ripped off the wet rag covering her nose and mouth and willed her to breathe. He could see the rise and fall of her chest, albeit slightly; it gave him hope. She tried to open her eyes but could only mouth his name. Rogue tears escaped unchecked down his face.
“Is my daughter still breathing?” her father cried out, grasping her face and begging her to open her eyes.
“My dog, my horse?” she muttered.
Harlow wanted to get down on his knees and give thanks. If he had not been holding her, he would have done so. Slowly, he turned and carried her out into the fresh air. Only then did he realize his state of undress. Feeling a surge of embarrassment, he looked away over the paddock fences, where the horses were grazing, rolling and kicking up their heels in happy freedom. Miraculously, all the animals had survived the blaze, because of the quick thinking of the groom and the strength and will of this beautiful woman in his arms.
Max brought up Lilian’s chair, also largely unscathed, and with great reluctance, Harlow lowered her into it. A few moments later, a large crash sounded as part of the roof towards the back of the stable fell. He shielded her body as sparks leaped into the air.
Viscount Yarstone had organized two bucket brigades to douse the flames from two directions and wetting the ground surrounding the stable. A fire engine finally arrived from the village and directed its efforts on the centre of the blaze, fuelled by unspent ceiling timbers. It took several more hours before the estate workers could get the blaze under control, to a point where they finally felt it could burn itself out.
The doctor, who had arrived earlier, said, “Keep her propped up with pillows to enable her lungs to function more easily. I have told her maid. The posture will assist in forcing out the poisons inhaled from the smoke. I will return in a day or two to see how she goes on.” Lifting his hat to the assembled servants, family and well-wishers, he had departed.
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