Page 54 of Vanquished By A Viscount
Seventeen
Charlie was so in love that he could hardly contain himself. Even after the last week or so of outstanding sex, making love with Grayson the way he just had had been one of the best experiences of his life. Gray was beautiful and nimble. His kisses were like fine wine, and the stretch and pull of his muscles as they coupled, the feel of him under his hands and surrounding his cock, were exquisite.
“I love you?—”
He’d been in the middle of confessing his love for Gray and begging the man to stay with him so that they might spend the rest of their lives together, come what may, when the cry of “Fire!” from the hallway shook him out of the moment.
It would have been startling enough for someone to cry fire, but when the footman continued with “The gamekeeper’s cottage was struck by lightning! It’s on fire, and Lady Felcourt is trapped inside!” Charlie felt as though he, too, had been struck by lightning.
He yanked back from Gray, kneeling for a moment and turning his attention to the window, which was rain-streaked and dark. Not entirely dark, though. The distinct glow of asignificant blaze lit the raindrops clinging to the glass and limned the darkness beyond.
“Charlie,” Gray gasped, sitting up with him, his voice filled with knowing sympathy.
“I have to go to her,” Charlie said, half to Gray and half to himself.
Regardless of the stickiness painting his torso, he tore from the bed and stumbled to gather up his clothing so he could dress again. Grayson said nothing, joining him in throwing clothes on, careless of the messy state of his body. It wouldn’t matter if it was still raining outside. They would both be soaked in minutes.
Charlie was reasonably certain he’d donned Gray’s shirt and Gray his, but that didn’t matter either. As soon as they were dressed decently enough not to cause a scene, they tore from the bedroom and down the hall.
“What happened?” Robert demanded of the footman as he, too, tore out of his room in little more than his nightshirt and raced downstairs and to the nearest outward exit. “I saw the lightning strike, but I never would have imagined?—”
“No one is certain how it happened,” the footman explained, glancing to Charlie as well as they hurried along the downstairs hallway to the door. “Several of us were in the conservatory, tidying the last of the night’s activities. We saw the strike and thought nothing of it until Ivy screamed that the cottage roof had caught fire.”
Charlie suddenly couldn’t recall whether the cottage roof was thatched or tiled or made of wood. It didn’t matter. As the four of them shot out into the kitchen garden, instantly doused by the tail end of the storm, just as Charlie was certain they would be, and raced around the corner, he saw the flames licking up through the rain.
“Barbara!” He and Robert picked up their pace, racing across the sodden grass toward the distant cottage. Charlie’s heart wasin his throat, and when he slipped in the grass, pulling a muscle in his leg, he hardly noticed.
“Barbara!” Robert shouted even louder. “My love!”
Charlie was vaguely aware of Gray and the footmen shouting something that sounded like orders to several of the other servants who were nearby. They were like buzzing flies to Charlie as he sprinted on, lungs and heart burning as they approached the cottage.
The entire roof was ablaze despite the rain that continued to pour down. After all the rain they’d had at the beginning of the house party, he would have thought it would be too damp to catch fire the way it had. But the last several days had been dry as a bone, and the cottage roof had looked like it needed replacing from the moment Charlie first saw it.
None of that mattered as Robert dashed ahead of Charlie to reach for the cottage door. It should have been an easy thing to grasp the handle and yank it open, but for whatever reason, it stuck when Robert tried to open it.
“Barbara!” Charlie shouted again, dashing to the side when he spotted Barbara standing near one of the windows.
Barbara was in tears and terrified. She banged against the window, shouting something that Charlie could only barely make out above the sound of the rain, the flames, and the servants and guests who now rushed toward the house. Behind his sister, Charlie could see the cottage filling with smoke, and it appeared as though the far corner of the ceiling had collapsed, showering flames and burning embers down.
The interior of the cottage was catching fire fast.
“The door!” Charlie shouted, rushing up to the window and slamming his hands over Barbara’s as she beat against the pane. “Unlock the door!”
“It’s not locked!” Barbara shouted back, her voice muffled by the glass. “It’s stuck.”
A thousand reasons why it might be stuck flew into Charlie’s scattered head. The wood could have warped. There might have been a problem with the locking mechanism. The hinges might have rusted. None of that mattered at the moment. Barbara was trapped, and the space behind her was quickly filling up with smoke and fire.
“Smash the window!” he shouted next. There had to be a dozen things inside the cottage Barbara could have smashed the glass with to free herself.
But Barbara was clearly overwrought. Her weeping turned to coughing as the smoke thickened, and Charlie knew there wasn’t time for anything other than rapid action.
“Robert!” he called to his brother-in-law, stepping back and gesturing for Robert. “The door’s stuck. We need something to smash the window!”
Robert nodded and rushed away from the door, but it was Gray who leapt forward a moment later with a thick bit of firewood from the pile around the corner. He charged right at the window, log raised.
“Barbara, step back!” Charlie shouted as Gray prepared to smash the window.
Barbara staggered back a small distance, sleeve raised to her face as she coughed. Charlie didn’t blame her for not going far. He could see fire spreading through the cottage at an alarming speed.
