Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

"W here is she?" Hugh demanded, tugging off his coat and tossing it to the ground. Behind him, the castle continued to burn. "Where is my wife? Where's Lily?"

He sprinted up to where Margaret was standing by a huddle of servants, her voice low and commanding as she calmed them.

"I don't know," Margaret said, her calm cracking like thin ice. "Evangeline went back inside for Lily, and I haven't seen either of them since."

Terror went through him like a blow.

He couldn't lose anyone else.

"Get everyone out," he said shortly. "Nothing in there is worth saving except the people."

"Yes, Your Grace," Mr. Moore said, his usually austere face smeared with soot. "We've sent for men from the village."

"Good."

Hugh didn't wait for anything else as he charged in through the castle doors. This portion of the castle was still standing, but other rooms had collapsed, and everywhere was thick with noxious smoke.

If Evangeline had gone in looking for Lily, logic dictated that they were in the west wing. With that in mind, he set off, sprinting through the corridors, mindless of the heat or the smoke.

The only thing that mattered was saving his wife and sister.

Eventually, the smoke grew too thick, and he fell back, coughing as his eyes streamed. The roar of the fire grew ever closer, and burning beams hung from the ceiling.

If they were still there, they were gone.

He couldn't bear it.

"Evangeline!" he roared, daring the fire to outmatch him.

If this was a test of wills, he would win. He always won.

" Evangeline ."

Nothing but the ever-present lick of flame.

The terror rose into grief, already. His knees buckled with the force of it. But he would rip apart every room in this godforsaken castle if it would only mean he found her.

"Evangeline!" he shouted again, wrenching open one door. "Lily! Where are you?"

Ahead of him, almost obscured by smoke, there was movement. A door flung back, figures stumbling out of it. Two figures, emerged from a room that gave way behind them.

"Hugh?" Evangeline's voice was scratchy, but despite everything, she sounded unafraid.

He did not think he could have loved her more.

"I'm here." He reached them, his wife and his sister, their arms around one another.

Lily was holding onto Evangeline for dear life, and Evangeline had an expression of rare determination on her face, the little of it he could see past the smoke.

"Lily," she said. "Help me, Hugh, please."

She didn't even have to ask. He scooped Lily into his arms, feeling her body shake with a cough.

"This way." He held his sister close as he led the way back through the trembling building. The heart of the castle was of stone, but there was plenty within it to burn, and plenty of auxiliary buildings that had been constructed at least partially from wood.

Time seemed to slow as they emerged from the smoke into the night air. Lily was limp against him, her dress scorched and her skin red from burns. Her chest rose and fell with each breath.

Alive. She was at least alive.

Evangeline coughed, her entire body shuddering. Her hair was loose, falling over her shoulders in a sooty, dark waves, darkened by the fire.

He immediately turned to her, Lily's head rocking limply on his shoulder.

"Are you all right? What happened?"

"I woke up to a fire." She rubbed her eyes red-rimmed from the smoke. "The servants got me outside, but when I got out, I realized Lily wasn't. I think there must have been some confusion, or not all the servants realized she needed saving, or perhaps they couldn't find her. I don't know…"

His stomach clenched with unreasonable anger. "That didn't necessitate you going inside! Do you know what could have happened to you?"

"I couldn't leave her."

"Yes, but—" He shut down the words before they could leave his lips. She wasn't the source of his anger—he could never be angry with her for wanting to save his sister. "Where was she?"

"Trapped. I think she was running and got stuck." Evangeline brushed a soot-stained arm across her face. "I think she's all right though."

"When I got here and saw you were both inside, I thought?—"

Mr. Moore came running up, both hands blackened, his face twisted with genuine worry. "Your Grace! You made it out."

"Send for a physician." Hugh almost didn't want to relinquish his sister, but he knew he needed to.

Aside from anything else, his home was on fire, and he needed to participate in putting out the flames.

"Here," Margaret said, pointing to where she had piled a collection of clothes they had saved into a makeshift bed. Hugh lowered Lily gently to the ground, where she stirred.

"Hugh?"

"You're safe now." He brushed the hair back from her face. "I said I would never let anything happen to you, and I meant it. You're safe."

"He came for me," she whispered.

"What?"

"George."

The blood drained from Hugh's face. He sat motionless as Evangeline crouched by Lily's other side.

"Hush now. He's gone. He won't ever be able to destroy our peace again. He's gone."

"I can't believe he came back." Lily's voice was small. "I don't regret it."

"You did nothing you need to be ashamed of."

"What happened?" Hugh asked, his voice too quiet.

Evangeline gestured for Margaret to take her place beside Lily and led Hugh away to where they might speak privately. She, too, had sustained mild burns, and her nightgown was scorched. All-too-familiar anger rose in him at the thought that this had happened in his house. Under his protection.

"It was George," Evangeline said, though he'd known that would be the case from before the moment she even spoke. "I suppose he wanted revenge against you. Lily says he came for her, but he came for me. I suppose he came to know how you cared for me, and thought he could take me away from you. The way you took me away from him."

Hugh's jaw was so tight he thought it might crack. "Where is he?"

"He's dead, Hugh. It's over." She took his hand, squeezing it in both of hers—as though he was the one who needed comforting. "The roof fell on him, and good riddance, I say. He only would have hurt more people if he was alive, and now Lily is free to live her life, no longer bound to another."

Hugh caught her and pulled her closer. "Did he hurt you? If I had known before I left, then?—"

"You could never have known." She said the words gently, as though she had looked into his soul and seen the level of fear that existed there. "And if you had known and postponed your visit, surely George would also have postponed his intentions, too. You thought you had done everything necessary to protect Lily."

"I never knew terror until I thought I might lose you," he said, cupping her face.

She wasn't quite whole—perhaps she would take time to recover—but she was alive.

Lily was alive.

"He could take my home and burn it to the ground, and I wouldn't care so long as I never lost you," he said, bringing her face to his.

She met him with enthusiasm, returning his kiss with the fervor he put into it. In every respect, she matched him, and he needed her to know, if through his mouth rather than his words, how much she meant to him, and just how afraid he had been for her.

"I wouldn't have let him take me from you," Evangeline whispered against his mouth. "I love you too much for that."

"I'm glad he's dead," he said viciously, and softened. "But I am sorry you had to see it."

For an instant, she closed her eyes, as though the memory was so unpleasant, she could hardly bear to recall it. But then she opened them, and the defiance he loved so much blazed in her expression.

"I'm glad his last moment was one of fear, and I don't regret helping make that happen. Does that make me a terrible person?"

"No. No, love. It makes you human."

"He won't terrorize anyone else."

"Good." He stroked her face. "But I hope you won't let the memory of him terrorize you, either."

"No." She shook her head emphatically. "It's over, and I can know it's over because I saw it happen with my own eyes. That's something."

"That's something indeed." He kissed her again. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Thank you for coming after us."

"I would never have done anything else."

* * *

An onset of autumn rain dealt the final blow to the fire early that morning, and Evangeline worked with the ladies of the village, bringing water and bandages to any who had been injured in the blaze.

Luckily it had been reasonably few. Some footmen had burns on their hands from dealing with the fire, and some of the men in the village had suffered the same affliction.

"Thank you, Your Grace," one man said awkwardly to her. "I know you shouldn't be doing this."

"Nonsense," she said briskly. "You came to help with our home, and you paid the price of that. The least I can do is bandage you up."

"Of course, we came to help out. After all His Grace has done for us, it was the least we could do."

Evangeline's hands faltered. She'd never thought about it that way. Of course, his people had a duty to him—they paid their taxes, and they paid him to maintain the roof over his head, and they worked his land, but she hadn't known the loyalty had run so deep.

Then again, why was she surprised? She had seen for herself how hard he had worked for his people.

"His Grace is lucky to have men like you on his side," she said after a moment, finishing her bandage and smiling at him. "I hope you know that."

"We're lucky to have a man like him on ours." His voice was serious, and his face was darkened from the soot that he had sustained while running into her burning building to put out the fire there.

In London, things were not comparable. In some ways, she loved the nature of it, but in others, she realized once again how fortunate they were to have these people surrounding her.

The good people of the north, humble and generous. She would not soon forget them.

"Evangeline?" Margaret called. "Lily is awake."

Evangeline rose, making her excuses, and hurried to Lily's side.

"Everything is all right," she murmured, taking Lily's hand.

Lily turned, her blue eyes large and bright in her face. "Was it my fault?"

"Was what your fault?"

"That he… He was running from me when?—"

"It was his fault for ever coming here and doing this in the first place."

"I'm not sorry I did it. I'm sorry he did this, but I'm not sorry that in his final moments, he was afraid of me."

Evangeline squeezed the girl's hand. Maybe now was the moment when she ought to have delivered a lecture on forgiveness, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. George had wronged her, and it wasn't a terrible thing that she had taken back some small power.

"You don't need to think about him anymore," she said. "He's gone. Forever."

Lily nodded and winced as she looked at her ankle. "How bad is it?"

"Some scrapes and bruises, but you're all right."

"Thank you for coming after me."

"You don't need to thank me," Evangeline said. "That's what family is for."

Lily smiled, but it was clear she was tired and in some pain, so Evangeline left her in the care of Margaret and continued her rounds. She had found a long coat, which she wrapped around herself, but her first thought wasn't of modesty when so many people were hurting.

No, not of modesty.

As the sun rose higher, bathing the world in soft light, it was possible to take full stock of the devastation. Half the castle was blackened with the aftermath of the fire, and the wing she had shared with Hugh was also destroyed. The walls of the castle were largely untouched, but many of the things inside had been destroyed.

And yet, when Evangeline looked at it, although she felt a twinge of sadness for the possessions they had lost, she also felt a pang of relief.

Peace.

The worst of it was over. Nothing would ever be able to touch them again. Everything that George had done to destroy them had failed, and now they were free to live the rest of their lives in peace.

A castle could be rebuilt. Belongings could be restored or purchased again. Only lives could never be replaced. And none of those had been lost. Even the worst burns were superficial. George had lost. And he would never have a chance to win again.

There was no room for anything except relief and love. Perhaps one day she would pity him for being so bitter and twisted that he would rather do this than face the consequences of his actions.

But for now, there was just this.

Hugh's hand wrapped around hers as he came to join her, and she leaned against his strength.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "I know this was your home."

"I meant what I said before. This is just stone and brick. Things that money can buy."

"That doesn't mean you don't have to be sad at its loss."

"I suppose not." He turned to her and smiled, the early morning sunlight gilding his face.

The bags under his eyes were stark against the paleness of his skin, but there was no denying the softness of his smile. She'd thought he would be angrier—furious at George, even in death, for putting them in this position.

But it was as though he understood, as she did, that when the dust settled, it meant a new era for them.

"We can rebuild," he said, turning back to the destruction. "And until we do, we can move to one of my other properties. Lily will recover better there."

"I'll miss the sea air."

"We'll return. He can't chase us away forever."

They were silent for a long time. Odd, really, that she felt so relieved in the wake of something that ought to have been traumatic. But when it had come down to it, she hadn't thought about any of the things that could be saved. Her priority had been clear. And so was Hugh's.

"I'll leave Duncan here to oversee things," he said after another long moment. "I'll accompany you and Lily to my house in Cumbria."

"Our house," she corrected, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Our house."

Just as it was their future, their loss, their growth, and their love would carry them through. Evangeline was more sure of that than she had ever been surer of anything in her life.

"One day," she said, eyes on the sky, "we will look back at this as our rebirth. The day when we truly began to live."

The shadow of George had gone forever. They were free.

"I wouldn't choose to do it with anyone else by my side," he said, glancing down at her with another of those soft smiles he reserved only for her.

The rest of the world saw the hardened duke, master of half of the north. But she saw the person he was underneath, and she loved him for it.

"So now what?" she asked.

"Now," he said, "we learn to live."