The Paradise Will (26 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Hanbury

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

BOOK: The Paradise Will
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Sweat and tears trickled down her face as she hauled her burden across the floor. Her hair had fallen from its confines and impatiently, she pushed the tresses back – her every movement now had a desperate edge. After feeding the rope under and around the bale before tying it in a secure knot, she hurried to the coiled end of the rope and pulled, her arms aching as she heaved to lift the bale inch by inch off the floor until it was level with the access door. Staggering a little from the smoke and heat, she secured the rope and began to swing the suspended bale to and fro until it struck the door repeatedly but her efforts were to no avail: the oak refused to yield and eventually Alyssa collapsed to her knees, exhausted.

Two-thirds of the roof was now on fire and the heat and smoke in the hayloft threatened to overwhelm her. Alyssa realized she must quickly get back to the lowest point to gain what relief she could from the black acrid smoke. She crawled to the ladder and climbed down with shaking legs before stumbling back to the entrance door, and frantically rattling the iron latch in a futile gesture of despair.

Above her head, the roar of the fire as it devoured the timbers and thatch was incredible. She put her handkerchief to her mouth; smoke was filling her nose and lungs making it difficult to breathe. A huge charred beam crashed to the floor and ignited the dry straw and hay there. Alyssa flinched but she was
struggling
to hold on to consciousness. Slowly, with her back against the door, she slid to the ground and hugged her knees to her chest. It was too late: she was going to die here and she would never see Gil again. She would never know the
physical
fulfilment of their love. Never have his children. Never grow old with him. It was over.

She began to cry; great, heart-wrenching sobs racked her body as she buried her head in her arms and waited to meet her fate.

 

CHAPTER 17

The rising smoke was clearly visible; a black curtain starkly delineated against an azure sky. The image branded itself on Gil’s brain as the slow graceful ascent of that dark lodestar mocked his earthbound urgency to reach it. Knowing it came from the vicinity of Winterborn barn made him feel sick with fear: Alyssa was in danger, he was certain of it. In another cruel trick, his mind replayed every smile she had given him; every kiss they had shared; her laughter and the humorous sparkle lurking in her eyes; the faint scent of lavender and roses which clung to her and sent a frisson of desire through his body … Gil was haunted by a sweet collection of images juxtaposed against the barely acknowledged dread that there could be no more in the future. At the same time, his anger towards Piers was intense, but he could not allow his attention to be diverted – he would have to be dealt with later.

Piers, who was as anxious as his companion to reach the barn, muttered a few inarticulate curses under his breath and fell silent again. Conversation had been sparse because of the speed at which they were travelling but during the last mile no words had been exchanged at all. Their journey was unhindered by any delay but time – as whimsical and capricious as ever – seemed to slow down and only after an apparently interminable ride did they skirt along the river to reach the meadow where they dismounted.

‘Dear God!’ cried Piers.

Gil’s blood froze at what he saw. The roof of the barn was well alight and flames leapt high into the air. Alyssa’s horse, skittish and nervous from the conflagration, was tethered to a bush nearby but Alyssa was nowhere to be seen and he knew instinctively that she was inside the building.

‘No!’

The single word, torn from the depths of his being, reverberated through the air and he ran the final yards, discarding his jacket as he went. He lifted the timber plank to wrench open the door and a sharp edge gashed his palm, but Gil barely noticed the pain, or the blood that began to trickle towards his wrist. A blast of hot air hit him in the chest and thick smoke swirled out, filling his eyes and nostrils. As he blinked to clear his streaming eyes, he peered frantically into the Stygian gloom and glimpsed Alyssa, lying fearfully still, on the stone floor.

The acrid smell of burning assailed him as soon as he entered. He could see little as he felt his way slowly through the smoke, but Gil knew it was imperative that he take some precautions because any rescue attempt would fail if he were injured now. He edged along the wall until he was parallel with Alyssa’s barely discernible silhouette and then, crouching, reached her in quick strides and knelt down. There was no time to search for injuries or even a pulse; he had to get her outside, well away from the fire and falling debris.

Lifting her into his arms, he muttered in a voice which shook, ‘You cannot die, Alyssa!
Do you hear me?
I won’t let you go!’

Gil carried her limp body a safe distance away and laid her gently on the grass in the shade thrown by a horse chestnut tree. Trickles of perspiration ran down his back and chest and dimly he was aware of the salty taste of tears as he smoothed back the hair that clung to her dirt-streaked face.

‘Is she …’ Piers’s hushed question trailed away; he could not bring himself to utter the word.

He had run to the barn in Gil’s wake but now he stood back, watching, with his lips compressed as he fought a gamut of emotions. There was nothing more he could do. He was unwilling to intrude as Gil sought for signs of life and indeed, had he tried to, he believed Gil would have snarled like a wild animal to warn him away.

At the moment Gil found a pulse, Alyssa’s eyes flickered open and she looked at him, her gaze wide and questioning but lucid. Immediately, she was racked by a bout of coughing and only when it had finished did she croak,

‘Gil! You came to find me after all.’

Relief, so acute it was almost a physical pain, flooded through him and he gathered her into his arms. ‘Did you doubt it, love?’ he murmured, his voice, barely above a whisper, wavered on every syllable.

‘No,’ she admitted, huskily, ‘but I was afraid you would not be in time.’

Piers, thankful his cousin was seemingly unhurt, felt elated until the
realization
of what he had done returned with a vengeance and he suddenly felt a
traitorous
and hateful interloper on this intimacy. He turned on his heel towards the river, unobserved by Gil or Alyssa.

Gil relaxed his embrace a little and said, ‘I sensed something might be wrong and went to Hawkscote before following you here. Oh God, when I arrived and saw—!’ He stopped and rubbed his hand across his eyes, adding in a choked voice, ‘I-I thought I had lost you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, through her tears. ‘Please don’t be vexed with me, even if I was a wet goose to come alone.’

He shook his head and threaded his fingers through hers. ‘I’m not vexed with you – I love you! I need to say those words now and every day in the future.’

‘Say them as often as you like,’ she replied earnestly, wiping away tears with the back of her hand as her mouth wobbled into a smile. ‘I shall not tire of
hearing
them, nor will I ever stop telling you I feel the same. In th-there, w-when I was trapped and thought I wouldn’t see you again, the sense of loss was
overwhelming
.’

Gil placed a featherlight kiss on her lips. ‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘It must have been far worse for you, alone and incarcerated inside that hellish place. But I am a birdwitted rattle, Alyssa, I should have asked immediately if you are hurt.’

‘No, I don’t think so. I still feel a little faint though.’

‘Hardly surprising, given your ordeal. Thank goodness, you seem to have suffered nothing more serious than shock and the effects of inhaling smoke,’ he said, relieved.

She nodded, and then coughed again. ‘Can you help me to sit up?’

‘Is that wise?’

She gave a shaky laugh, saying, ‘Perhaps not, but I believe I will feel more the thing if I do.’

Alyssa struggled to raise herself and, with Gil’s help, soon lay with her head against his shoulder. Slowly, after some minutes held thus, her breathing returned to normal and her body stopped trembling. She sighed deeply and placed her hand against his cheek: she had somehow regained this exquisite
sanctuary
when it had seemed forever lost to her. Tender understanding shone in his eyes and, as he turned his head to place a kiss in her palm, she whispered, ‘I feel much better already. You know, my fate would have been sealed if you had not arrived when you did.’

Gil, who glanced at the fire still blazing with unbridled menace, felt another shudder run through her body as her gaze followed his. ‘It is best not to dwell on what might have been, love. You are safe now and that is all that matters.’

‘Yes, you are right, of course.’ She cast another concerned look at the barn. ‘But should we at least try and stem the flames – in case the fire spreads?’

‘No,’ he said, emphatically shaking his head. ‘It is too dangerous to go near the building again. There is little chance of it spreading because the wood is some distance away but when the labourers arrive, they can dig a fire break as a precaution. The flames will most likely burn out in an hour or two once the roof has been consumed.’

‘I hope so,’ she replied, obliged to be satisfied. Alyssa chewed at her bottom lip as she mused on her escape and then, looking into his face, she smiled and added, ‘What excellent timing you have, Gil! Thank God you did not wait to receive word from me before coming here.’

‘So, I am forgiven then?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Forgiven? For what?’

‘Why, for deliberately riding roughshod over your instructions last night. I have been quaking in my boots as to your opinion of me for doing so, but now perhaps I shall be absolved.’ Amazingly, considering the horror of only a short while ago, his lip quivered as he struggled to preserve his countenance.

Her eyes laughed back at him. ‘Oh! Detestable creature! I should have guessed you were bamboozling me.’ She feigned a grimace, saying, ‘Well, I suppose I can forgive even an unprincipled, overbearing wretch like you under the circumstances.’

‘Flatterer!’ he asserted, with a rich chuckle. ‘That deserves a fitting riposte.’

‘Oh?’ she replied teasingly, opening her eyes a little wider, ‘And what do you suggest?’

‘Only this, my beautiful termagant.’ Tightening his embrace, he crushed her mouth under his in a fervent kiss. Long moments later, he whispered with a smile, ‘Now, do you still think me detestable?’

‘No, indeed,’ she said, sighing in contentment. ‘Mad perhaps, but not detestable. However, it is an axiom that lunatics must be humoured so I am prepared to let you kiss me again.’

‘Gladly,’ he said, laughing, and did so.

‘But Gil, how
can
you think me beautiful?’ she protested afterwards, a little breathlessly. ‘To be sure, I must look
ravishing
with my face and clothes covered in soot and my hair in disarray.’

He grinned. ‘Must you argue over every point? My good girl, you look a bewitching hoyden and I will brook no disagreement on the matter.’

Alyssa’s smile quickly vanished when she noticed the deep red stain amongst the dirt and grime marking the front of his shirt and she started forward in alarm, crying, ‘There is blood on your shirt!’

‘From a veritable scratch, nothing more.’ He shrugged and held up his palm to show the deep cut there, still oozing blood.

‘Indeed, it is more than a scratch!’ she exclaimed, sitting up. ‘Give me your handkerchief so I may bind it.’

‘Very well, if you have recovered sufficiently,’ he said, relinquishing the item.

‘I have and you don’t need to fear I will be sent into another swoon by the sight of blood.’

‘I didn’t imagine you would be,’ he replied, with another grin. Watching as she knelt beside him and began to wrap the cloth around his hand, he waited a moment before asking tentatively, ‘Can you recall what happened?’

Alyssa nodded and described it in detail, from receiving the note, to her plight in the barn. ‘It has to be Draper who is responsible,’ she concluded, ‘but I can’t comprehend why. Surely he cannot be so angered by his situation that he wished to
kill
me? Perhaps Piers can shed some light on his motives.’ She put her head on one side to examine her handiwork critically. ‘There, I have done now.’

‘Thank you – a definite improvement on what I could have achieved.’ Gil’s brows drew together in a frown as he considered her words. When she had already endured so much, was it was right to subject her to further disquiet now? On balance, he thought it was: she would want the truth and it was important she heard her cousin’s confession as soon as possible. He watched her face as he ventured, ‘My love, there is something else you must know but Piers will need to explain.’

‘Oh dear, that sounds ominous,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘He is here then?’

‘Yes, we travelled together.’ Gil looked up to see Piers walking back from the river. With shoulders slumped and head dipped low, his demeanour was one of self-loathing. Gil, pointing out the solitary figure, said, ‘Piers must have wandered away while we talked – he is returning now.’

With his assistance, Alyssa rose to her feet and waited.

‘Hello, Coz,’ said Piers, in a subdued voice when he reached them. ‘I-I’m damned glad to see you are all right. Gil had things in hand so I left the two of you alone once I realized that you weren’t badly hurt. Thank God you are well, but it’s no thanks to me you haven’t been injured, or even killed.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Alyssa, noting his hands trembled.

‘Has Gil spoken to you yet … regarding me?’ His glance flicked nervously from one to the other.

‘No, he has only said you have something to explain.’

‘I thought you would prefer it that way, Piers,’ said Gil grimly.

He nodded. ‘Yes, of course. Thank you.’ He turned to his cousin. ‘This is my fault, Alyssa,’ he said, gesturing hopelessly towards the fire, ‘the result of
my
wretched folly.’

‘You take too much upon yourself,’ she said soothingly, ‘I believe Draper is to blame. You cannot be held accountable.’

‘No,
I
am to blame,’ he said, gloomily candid, ‘and if it were not for Letty and her faith in me, I’d drown myself in the river.’

Alyssa stared. ‘What on earth! It is not like you to say such a thing and I see from your face you mean it, too. You had better tell me the whole.’

He did so while she listened in stunned silence. ‘I can only say I’m devilish sorry, Alyssa,’ he concluded, reddening.

‘Upon my word,’ she cried explosively, her eyes sparkling with wrath, ‘I can hardly credit what you have told me and yet I know it is true – it explains many things. You should be ashamed as well as sorry, Piers!’

‘I am.’

‘What a selfish irresponsible blockhead you have been!’

‘I know.’

‘Why?’
she urged. ‘Why didn’t you speak to me on this subject when you came to Dorset? You should have told me how deeply you felt.’

‘But if I had, it would have not have changed anything.’

‘I wish you had confided in me all the same. At least we could have discussed the matter in a civilized way and it might have prevented you from behaving like an idiot. I knew, of course, that Uncle Tom’s will had angered you – you made that plain enough in London – but I did not realize you would act in this underhand way,’ she exclaimed, still incensed.

He shrugged disconsolately. ‘I offer no excuses. You’ve always been fair, Coz; Tom’s will was not your doing and you promised to help me financially when you could, but I was blinded by selfishness, wanting a share of Hawkscote. Please believe me when I say, however misguided my motivations and deeds were, I truly
never
intended things to go this far.’

‘Am I supposed to take consolation from that?’ she demanded.

‘Yes – no!’ Piers raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Oh God! I admit to making a mull of everything. I have been racked with guilt for weeks and that was why I arranged to see you this morning – so I could confess – only to discover instead that Draper had decided to take revenge on you.’ He flushed scarlet and said in a despairing voice, ‘I wanted to cast up my accounts when I heard! Gil has every right to land me a facer for putting you in danger.’

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