Family Scandals (37 page)

Moments later Diana was forgotten as the thatch over the door burst into flame.

“I took ’em all the way out to Epping Forest, m’lord.” Old Dobbin stood before an audience of the Inspector, Marcus, Brand, Felicia, Trent and Eliza in the library at Waring House.“The young‘un said his wife was ill and he was takin’ her out to see a healer what lives in a hut near the edge o’ the forest. Right pretty little thing she was too. But she was white as a sheet when he carried her out.”

“Did you stop anywhere along the way?” the Inspector asked.

The grizzled old man worried the battered hat he held in his hands. “As a matter o’ fact we did. We picked up the little lady’s sister at the White Table not long afore we reached the forest.”

“What did this ‘sister’ look like?” Brand asked.

“Couldn’t tell much ’cepting she had red hair.”

“Diana, maybe?” Felicia said to the room at large.

“Possibly,” Eliza answered.

“Houghton Hall isn’t far from Epping Forest.” These were the first words spoken by Marcus in a long time, but everyone understood the implication.

“Was the young woman still unconscious when you reached your destination?” Brand asked.

“I think so. The young‘un carried her inside while the sister paid me fee. She was wrapped in a blanket, so’s I only saw her face. I asked if’n they wanted me to wait, but the sister said no.”

“Did you overhear anything they said? Any conversation? Any names?” Trent asked.

“No, sir. I don’t listen in on me customers. It’s bad fer business.”

“All right then.” Brand turned to Marcus. “Epping Forest it is, and there’s no time to lose.”

The men moved toward the door. “I’ll send a coach to follow,” Felicia called as they disappeared through it.

Once mounted, they rode as fast as they could through the city, not able to give the horses their heads until they reached the open road to Epping. Marcus thanked every star in the sky for the full moon shining down on the empty road in front of them, enabling them to ride hard and fast.

His mind went back over what Eliza and Trent had revealed to the assembled company. Corinna’s cousin, Vincent, was indeed Lord Barber. Although Vincent and Julianna’s wedding had been a small family affair, Eliza and Trent had been invited because Trent and Viscount Northrup were longstanding friends. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary about the couple. Julianna seemed smitten by her bridegroom and Vincent seemed equally attentive.

Lord Northrup had revealed to Trent the intricacies of the search that turned up Vincent. He had been difficult to trace, it turned out, because his father, Conrad Pingree, had died not long after Vincent was born and his mother, Mirabel, had remarried. Vincent had been raised by his mother’s second husband, Joshua Lemmons, and had taken his name.

There was no untoward gossip about them in the
ton
, and Eliza and Trent had known Julianna had been safely delivered of a son about three months ago. Northrup had written to Trent of his relief at having the line seemingly secured.

He wondered why Vincent felt the need to kill Corinna, for there was no doubt in his mind that that’s what Vincent planned to do. Did he feel she was a threat to his position? Did she know something he didn’t want revealed? What kind of hold did he think she had over him that warranted murder?

As for Diana, Marcus had no answers. He knew from discussions with Felicia that Diana was mean and vindictive. But did she truly hate her younger sister enough to want her dead? And what would Corinna’s death accomplish?

It was as they rounded a bend in the road and the edge of the forest came into view that Marcus also noticed an unnatural brightness in the sky. Slowing down, he looked at Trent, who had pulled up beside him.

“What do you suppose that bright light is?” It was more of a statement than a question, voiced by Trent.

Brand rode up on the other side and was about to say something when a light breeze tickled their noses and dread slithered down their spines.

“Fire!” Marcus dug his heels into his stallion’s side and shot forward. Originally thinking he might have to sneak up on the small dwelling described by Dobbin, he threw caution to the wind and barreled forward, uncaring of who might hear.

Corinna was trying desperately not to panic, but the terror she always experienced when faced with open flames threatened to engulf her. Running to the window, she tore at the oilcloth in the opening, but still could not hoist herself up enough to get out. Standing there for a few moments, she tried to use her teeth to loosen the rope around her wrists, but gave up when she heard footsteps returning.

Shrinking back into the darkness, she looked around wildly for some other way out. The fire was spreading rapidly through the roof, chunks of flaming thatch beginning to fall to the dirt floor. Moving toward the back of the hut, she encountered the fireplace and flattened herself against the wall beside it as Vincent stuck his head in the window.

“Where are you?” he yelled.

Frozen in fear, Corinna watched as he pointed a pistol inside the hut. She didn’t dare move and bring herself to his attention, but the fire was spreading in her direction and she knew it would be directly overhead shortly. The smoke was already so thick it was tangible, causing her eyes to water, and her throat to close up. It was only a matter of time before she began to cough, and draw Vincent’s attention.

Something outside must have caught his attention for his arm suddenly disappeared and Corinna took the chance he was diverted and dropped to the ground. The smoke was nearly overwhelming now and she began to cough. Crawling on her hands and knees as best she could, she curled herself into a tight ball inside the mouth of the fireplace, sneezing when she encountered the ashes inside. She covered her nose and mouth with the skirt of her dress and blinked her eyes rapidly as they watered.

I can’t die now. Marcus needs me. I can’t leave him now.
The roof was fully engulfed and she knew it was only a matter of time before it completely caved in. She thought she heard another shot, but it was difficult to tell over the noise of the flames and the roar of falling beams as the portion of the roof over the door fell. Another part of the roof caved in, this one over the pallet she had awakened on.

The smoke was thicker now. She could see little beyond the mouth of the fireplace except flame. The heat was intense and she closed her eyes against it. Her lungs felt as if they might burst and she began gasping for air. It was raining fire all around her, and another piece of the roof collapsed, this time almost directly in front of her. A burning beam fell in front of the fireplace and she kicked it away. Two more beams fell directly against the fireplace, dislodging some of the stones surrounding her.

The fire hadn’t reached her directly, but the stones surrounding her were becoming heated. A small one fell on her leg. She cried out. Another stone fell. Then another beam fell and the pain that shot up her arm as she batted it away nearly brought with it unconsciousness. Dragging in smoke-tinged breaths, she thought she heard banging on the wall behind her, but could not make out the sound as darkness claimed her.

Marcus stood and stared helplessly at the burning hut. Vincent lay dead on the ground at his feet, but Marcus was oblivious to anything except that Corinna was inside the inferno before him. The front had completely collapsed, there was no way in from that direction.

Fear rose like bile in his throat as the elusive memory of the week before suddenly crystallized. Corinna had been burned as a child. Her dress had caught fire and she still bore the scars. What had Douglas told him? His mother told Corinna the fire was an accident, but she knew Diana had deliberately set the dress on fire.

Turning, he ran around to the side, looking frantically for another way inside. There was a small opening high up, but the roof over it had already collapsed. He continued to the back, where he found Brand had discovered a small well and was raising a bucket of water from its depths.

Looking around, he noticed an ax on the ground beside the wood, then turned to look at the back of the hut. Someone had taken some care in building it because the chimney was stone. He wondered if the whole fireplace and cooking area was made of stone, and his hopes rose. Picking up the ax, he swung it at the wall beside the chimney.

Trent came around back from the other side while Marcus chipped away at the wall. He spoke to Brand.

“I found Diana Houghton around the other side. She’s dead. Shot. There’s what looks to be a window there, but the roof has collapsed on that side so we couldn’t get in there.”

Marcus heard him, but concentrated on the task he had set himself. Knocking a hole in the wall, he dropped the ax, began to use his hands to pull away the stones and mortar to create an opening. Trent joined him while Brand dropped the bucket back into the well for more water. Intense heat and thick smoke greeted them as they worked frantically to dismantle the wall. Brand came up and tossed the bucket of water up into the thatch directly above them where the fire was just beginning to reach.

“Corinna!” Marcus yelled into the smoky blackness. “Corinna!”

There was no answer. But he continued to take pieces out of the wall until the hole was big enough for him to fit through. The smoke was thick and heavy, but Marcus did not hesitate as he climbed through the opening. Dropping to his hands and knees he looked around as best he could. Darkness and thick smoke was all he could see initially, but as he moved slowly forward and felt his way around the fireplace, his vision adjusted to the darkness and shapes began to form.

Two large beams had fallen at an angle before the fireplace and the roof had collapsed onto them, leaving the space before the fireplace relatively debris free. Even with his sight limited, Marcus knew that if Corinna was still alive, the fireplace was where she had to be. Coughing and gasping for air, he headed for the opening he could just barely make out.

Corinna was floating. She was no longer hot, but her arm and leg hurt. Someone was talking to her, and she thought she recognized Marcus’s voice, but couldn’t concentrate enough to be sure. Pain suddenly shot up her arm and she cried out.

“It’s all right, love. I’m here. You’re safe.”

The voice soothed her and she drifted off again.

The next time she surfaced she felt as if she was on fire. Her eyes were gritty, and refused to open, but she could feel the heat. She moaned as terror once again engulfed her. A bright light appeared and she screamed, turning away from the flames to escape the heat.

Gentle hands held her, smoothing cold, wet cloths over her face, chest, arms and legs. The coolness calmed her. The flames died, and once again she sank into the welcoming darkness.

“She’ll live,” the Earl of Wynton told Marcus, “but I’ll tell you, she’s damn lucky.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Marcus replied, looking down at Corinna now resting comfortably in the big bed. “She was barely breathing when I found her. If she hadn’t thought to put something over her mouth and nose, she would have already been gone.”

“From what I hear, you are both lucky to be alive. How’s that foot doing?”

“Better,” Marcus replied, looking down at his heavily bandaged foot. He had been so engrossed in pulling Corinna from her hiding place and getting her out of the hut he hadn’t noticed the burning ember that fell on his foot. It had melted the leather of his boot, and burned through to his skin before he registered the pain. He hadn’t cared. He would have gladly sacrificed his foot to get Corinna out alive. The thick smoke and heat had nearly overcome him and it had taken both Brand and Trent to get the two of them out.

By the time he and Corinna were outside, the coach sent by Felicia had arrived, with the Inspector and his men following. Brand and Trent stayed to help contain the fire and identify the bodies while he had climbed into the coach with Corinna and headed back to the city.

Felicia had taken the precaution of sending for her brother, and the earl had been waiting when they arrived.

“Good,” Lord Wynton said now. “Send someone over to Kent House if you run out of that salve.”

“And Corinna?” Marcus asked.

“She’s sleeping now,” the earl told him. “She’ll wake up soon enough and she’ll be hungry. Don’t let the cook fob you off with broth and swill. She can have anything she wants, as long as she can keep it down.”

Marcus nodded, and turned back to the bed as Lord Wynton left. The last two days had been nerve-racking. With Corinna unconscious, then developing a fever, he and Felicia had kept a constant vigil. Brand and Trent had taken on the responsibility of informing Viscount Northrup and Baron Houghton about Vincent and Diana. Eliza and Amanda had implemented rumor control, ensuring the
ton
had no idea Vincent’s and Diana’s deaths were connected.

Easing himself down into the bed beside Corinna’s still form, he closed his eyes for a moment and relived the nightmare. He could still see the two beams that had fallen before the front of the small fireplace. Those beams had saved her life. If not for them, the roof would have come down and her dress probably would have caught a spark. She would have been burned alive. He shuddered and took a deep breath to calm his racing heart.