Page 34 of Mistress of Misfortune

Chapter 9

Thorne tore the drapes from the window and engulfed her in them as he hauled her away, using the heavy material to smother the flames crawling up her skirts. Once he was certain they were extinguished, he picked up a fire bucket beside the hearth and doused the smoldering carpet with sand before returning to her to check her dress again, which no longer burned.

“I am truly cursed,” Meredith said, her face so white it looked carved from chalk. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she dropped.

Catching her, Thorne carried her out of the study and upstairs. He only realized he had brought her to his bed chamber when he placed her on the silk coverlet. He called her name, but she did not stir, and she barely breathed.

Thorne had seen the shock of sudden injury kill soldiers, and frantically ripped open her bodice and dragged her scorched gown from her still form. He saw no burns, thankfully, only soot marks on her skin transferred from the fabric. He removed the dagger from his boot and used the blade to slice through her stays. Some color returned to her face as the release allowed her to breathe more naturally.

Once he had her swaddled under the blankets on his bed he tore off his own soiled jacket and shirt and stretched out beside her. Gathering her against his chest, he tucked a leg over hers and warmed her with the heat of his body.

“You must wake up, Meredith.” He looked down at her face and lifted a hand to stroke a tangle of hair back from her brow. “I have not yet shown you the rest of the house. You wished to see every room, did you not? And climb to the top of both towers to see the view. So, you will, just as soon as I have the steps made safe.”

She did not move or respond, but the weak patter of her heart seemed to him stronger now.

“Over the last day I have received a dozen new invitations,” he murmured, pressing her cheek to his own hammering heart. “Including another ball at Christmas. You must reserve two dances for me. I have never enjoyed dancing as much as I did with you.”

She did not stir, but Thorne could feel the tension easing from her limbs. He thought he saw a tear on her cheek, but when he wiped it away he found it to be a shard of glass. He thought of the suddenness of the explosion of fire. If he went back to the study now, he felt certain he would find more shards of glass.

Someone had dropped a lamp down the chimney, which had smashed and caused the blast. Someone had done this to hurt her.

Thorne wanted to find the man responsible, and beat him to death. Instead he kept talking nonsense to Meredith, knowing the sound of his voice might draw her back to her senses. When she did not rouse, he pulled her close and held her tightly.

“Listen to me now, my girl. I know you are frightened and weary. So am I.” He pressed his lips to her brow, “I have felt just the same every day since leaving India. But you cannot surrender, Meredith. You must fight this, and come back to me. We will find the one who has done this, I promise you. Together.”

“Alistair.”

The barest whisper of his name came with a soft puff of breath against his chest.

“Meredith?” He gazed down at her, and cradled her face between his hands. “Say that again. Say my name. Please.”

“Alistair.” Her eyes fluttered and then slowly opened, and she shook her head a little. “Why?”

“Someone tried to hurt you, my dear,” he told her. “I put out the flames. You are not burned.”

“No. That is not what I mean.” She glanced down at his bare chest, and the thin chemise covering her breasts. “Why are we here, like this?”

He drew back a little. “You suffered a bad shock, and could not breathe. I had to remove your stays and warm you. Lying together in this fashion is the most effective means.”

“Oh.” She nestled back against him. “That was very good of you.” She peeped up at him, her expression uncertain. “I fear I cannot tell Dr. Mallory about this method when he returns from his journey. I think he would not approve.”

Thorne sighed his relief; she had come back to her senses. “Yes, and he would relate it to your parents, who would most certainly regard it unfavorably.” He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “Meredith, someone has been tormenting you by arranging these mishaps and accidents. Now I am convinced of it.”

“You think to find someone in your chimney? The mysterious gentleman who tripped me at the ball, perhaps?” She shook her head. “I am cursed, Alistair.”

“As it happens, so am I.” He pulled her closer so that her soft breasts pressed against the vault of his chest. “Look at me now. There is no curse. Why do you frown?”

“We should not be in this bed together,” she whispered as she stared at his mouth. “Although I never want to leave it. I have fallen in love with you.”

He groaned as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “Now I never will.”

“I did not mean to love you,” she told his shoulder. “I was quite happy being a spinster, you know. Then my rig overturned and you were there and I was lost.” She hesitated before she added, “I should confess something. I know nothing about this, truly. Mama would never tell me.”

Thorne knew she was warm, and that he should release her and leave her to rest. He also knew there was no force in Heaven or on Earth that could make him do so. “Do you wish me to tell you what they do?”

She bit her lower lip. “I would very much like you to show me.”

“So would I, more than I can tell you.” He picked up her hand and held it between his. “Meredith, I would happily spend the rest of day and night here with you in my bed. But that cannot happen. I would not stop at kisses and caresses. What I do want could cause you to have a baby.”