Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1) (25 page)

Gasping, Silver ran for the stone steps leading to the house.

Bram would be in the study, no doubt, dark head bent forward, oblivious to the world as he scribbled in his well-worn notebook of his.

But there was no sign of the boy in the quiet, book-lined study at the front of the house. Nor in the little sitting room that he had commandeered for his working area.

“Bram!”
Silver’s voice was raw with panic as heavy smoke churned up around her.

A sound came from the floor. Through the smoke Silver made out an unmoving shape. With a ragged cry she caught her brother’s arm and struggled toward the door.

He gave a racking cough as his eyes cracked opened. “So sorry, Syl.” Bram coughed painfully. “Tried t’ stop him but I never even knew what hit me.”

And then the boy shuddered and fell back into unconsciousness.

~ ~ ~

It wasn’t until Silver had carried Bram to safety and gone for water that Tinker came pounding up the path, breathless and pale with fear. “What afoot
now?”

Silver slung a wooden bucket into his hand as she dashed her own bucket onto the flames licking the front porch. “No time — Bram’s safe out back. Must save — the cottage.”

Instantly Tinker swung into action. After checking on Bram for himself he set off for more water vessels.

Silver’s lungs were burning and her cheeks were coated with soot when Tinker reappeared, dragging a heavy copper tub. Together they wrestled the vessel toward the house.

For over an hour she and Tinker ran back and forth, not speaking. When the last flames were finally drowned, Silver sank down on the blackened porch, dragged in a choking breath, and dropped her chin onto sooty hands.

Only then did she see the words scrawled on the wall below the window.

This time’s only a warning.

Next time you’re ALL going to burn.

Trembling, Silver locked her hands beneath her knees to keep. All she could see was Bram’s face, pale and frightened, dark with soot.

Next time you’re ALL going to burn.

“N-not Bram.” Tears began to streak down her face. She bit her lip as Tinker gently brushed them away. “I am
not
crying.”

“Of course you’re not, miss. Thought never crossed my mind.”

“Well, I’m not, so don’t think I am.”

But it was too late for their simple schemes, too late to hope they’d escaped her enemies. She had saved Bram today, but what about next time and the time after that? Luc was right.

Silver knew then what she must do. She seized upon the idea with grim determination, driven by the reckless pride that had been the ruin of far too many St. Clairs. “Look after Bram, Tinker.”

“And just where do y’ think you’re going, miss? Covered with soot, you are, and your eyes barely able to see.”

“I — I must change. And there’s my face to clean…” She was talking more to herself than to him. “Then I must go out.”

“The only place you’re going is down to the drying shed with me, so you can scrub off some of that soot. And then you’ll hie yourself into a chair while I bandage those burned fingers of yours!”

Silver cocked her head, barely listening. “Fingers? Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ll need gloves. I’d quite forgotten. It would never do for them to see how close they came to succeeding.”

“For who to see
what
? What’re you scheming on about now, miss? I know that look of yours. Seen it too many times afore to mistake it. Trouble, that’s what it means, trouble pure and simple. Now just you tell me—”

“Not now, Tinker.” Silver’s voice was utterly calm.
Dangerously
calm. “I must hurry. There is so little time.”

Then she disappeared up the narrow stairs to her bedroom.

~ ~ ~

When Silver pushed open the blackened door of the cottage thirty minutes later, the soot was gone from her cheeks and her blistered fingers were covered by fine doeskin gloves. She had waited until she was certain that Bram was resting comfortably and Tinker was standing guard. Only then did she slip outside.

She looked down at her gloves, frowning. How odd that she’d never worn them before. And how odd that now, at a desperate time like this, she should find them useful. She felt wild laughter build in her throat, but bit it back.

No time for that, she told herself sternly, smoothing down her skirt of ivory jaconet muslin. She was wearing her best gown — nearly her
only
gown. Its yards of fine fabric were caught at full sleeves and a froth of lace curved along the bodice. Ribbons of forest-green peeked from the sleeves, deepening the hue of her eyes.

Silver studied her image in a window dusted with ash.

Passable, she decided, twitching a ribbon straight at her sleeve. But what Silver did not see was that she looked far more than passable. With her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing, she was a rare combination of innocence and passion. To any man she would have been a temptation. To a man who was already halfway in love with her, she would be a seduction beyond resisting.

But Silver had no thought of love or seduction. Her heart was hard as granite as she hurried down the path toward the stables, remembering her father’s words.

And she would do whatever was necessary to protect her brother’s life.

I am writing this to you, Susannah, because you have your mother’s curiosity and my damnable temper. It is not something I’m proud of bequeathing you, but I’m certain you’ll control yours better than I have done.

And I tell myself that it will take a bit of temper, a bit of grit, to complete the hard task I’m leaving you.

Find out who killed your mother, my Susannah. Find out why.

When you do, you’ll know who is standing out there in the night, watching me even now as I write.

I have tried and failed.

Now I leave the task to you…

Luc strode up to the workrooms with only one thought in mind: that he had to make Silver leave.

It was too dangerous for any of them to stay here longer. He needed time to trace who was behind the attacks — and why. Whether Silver liked it or not, she was going to leave. This very afternoon, if he could make her.

But when he swung open the polished oak door to the workroom Silver had vanished. Lavender fields, rose rows, and herb garden were empty, and a smoky haze drifted over the fields.

Then Luc saw the blackened walls of the cottage on top of the hill.

“What happened?” he growled to Tinker, who had appeared behind him.

“Those brutes set fire to the cottage, that’s what. Nearly killed Bram in the process. When I came down from checking on him, she was gone.”

Luc scowled, already envisioning a dozen deadly scenarios: Silver confronting Sir Charles Millbank. Silver in that damnable bordello. Silver being held and beaten by masked desperados—

He caught a hard breath. No good to jump to conclusions. “Did she say where she was going?”

“Could be Kingsdon Cross, since she was dressed in her only nice gown,” the old man said darkly.

“How could you have let her go, damn it?”

Tinker started to say something, then closed his mouth and shrugged. “Truth is, she snuck past me. I was just going down for my horse to follow her when you came. And as for
letting
the female go, when Miss Silver’s in one of her takings, there’s no reasoning with her about anything!”

Luc swore softly. “These men are dangerous. They’ll stop at nothing to have their way, you must see that now. As soon as I find her, we must make her go. Get them both packed and ready to leave this afternoon. Since there appears to be no other place, they can come to me. They’ll be safe with me, you have my word on it.”

Tinker gave him a measuring look. “Safe, aye, but from who?”

“From anyone who would try to harm them. Myself included,” Luc added grimly.

Tinker shoved a lavender sprig between his teeth and studied Luc. After a long moment he nodded. “Reckon I saw something else, highwayman. When she raced off in that gig of hers, she was headed
away
from the high road.”

“You mean she wasn’t headed for Kingsdon Cross? Then why did you tell me—”

“Because I’m still not sure I trust you. Not enough to risk Miss Silver’s life on it. But you’re two score years younger than I am, so I reckon I’ll have to trust you, and that’s why I’m telling you now. She went west. Over the hill and straight on past the meadow.”

West? There was nothing there but farm country and the fens and…

Luc’s face hardened. And the only road that led to the Green Man.

“I can see you’ve got the same idea I do. She’s storming off to
that
disreputable den of thieves in her finest dress.”

But these were not men to be argued with or threatened — not by a solitary woman. She was in serious danger.

~ ~ ~

All the way there Luc told himself he was a fool. Not even someone with Silver’s boundless stubbornness would dare to confront the lion in its den.

But when he reined in his horse outside the Green Man half an hour later, he saw Silver’s gig waiting outside the inn’s rickety front door.

A little boy with a grimy face was sitting on a crate nearby, minding her horse. He jumped up when he saw Luc’s imposing figure, black from head to toe, mask, hat, and shining boots. “You’re Blackwood, ain’t you?”

Luc laughed. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m mad King George.”

The boy smiled hugely. “Pooh. You looking for the angry lady?”

The angry lady!
That fit Silver to perfection. “I expect I am.”