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scrambled to his knees in the doorway as the old furnishings and piles
of hay burst into flame behind him.
As he managed to get to his feet and stumble into the clearing,
screams and cries warned that his incendiary device had caught
someone, with any luck both of them. He raced forward then turned
back, hands braced on his thighs as he panted for breath. The blaze
swiftly encompassed the whole building.
Harry forced himself upright. He didn't have time to bask in
the brilliant way his device had functioned, or in catching the traitors
that had eluded his elder brother. He looked about for the horse he'd
ridden earlier, and spotted the broken branch he'd tied her to. The
beast had apparently broken free after the explosion.
Fuck. No help for it but to walk to the manor and bring Nash
back. He looked down at his feet, one boot on, one off. Thank god for
small favors: he still wore his breeches. In the ensuing excitement
he'd nearly forgotten he'd been in the process of stripping when he'd
been accosted.
Shrugging, he began hobbling his way down the path. Nash
had seen him in less, and unless Andre happened to be lurking above
stairs, there wasn't much chance that any of the servants would care
about his nakedness. If the blushing housekeeper should happen to
faint, so much the better for distracting everyone else from his
nakedness while he sent Nash to fetch Martin back from the road to
London.
Nevertheless. It was something of a relief to encounter Nash
on the road to the manor, riding hell bent for leather. Perhaps the girl
at the window had had the good sense to fetch help. "Well met,
brother!" he called.
Nash reined in the huge stallion he sat astride. The beast
reared up, and Harry darted away. "Harry! I just received word from
the village. What the devil has happened to you?"
"It's a bit of a long tale. I don't suppose you'd mind taking me
up and returning to the house?"
Nash chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Perhaps it would be best. I
received a missive from Martin followed by one from Peregrine
demanding my immediate presence with a most unusual list of
stationary supplies. I assume it's all related to your current state of
& er& dishabille."
"Most likely." Harry felt infinitely more cheerful knowing that
Peregrine and Martin were so close. "If you don't mind, I'd rather like
a bath and a clean set of clothes."
Nash reached down a strong arm and hauled him up behind.
"You will tell me what this is all about, won't you?"
"Treason."
Nash stiffened in the saddle. "Harry? Are my woods afire?"
Oh blast. He peered over his taller, broader brother's shoulder.
Sure enough, orange flames flickered just within sight and plumes of
black smoke rose in the darkening sky. "Um. I rather hope it's just the
cottage. Perhaps the incipient rainfall will take care of it?"
Furious curses rained down on his head as Nash wheeled the
horse about and set off for the manor in a gallop. Within fifteen
minutes every man on the estate was gathered to control the blaze,
and a youth from the stable sent to the village to fetch Peregrine and
Martin. Harry had to make do with an ewer of water and a rag to wash
himself.
Chapter Sixteen
"Thank god!" Martin was relieved that the butler's assertion
that the master and his brother could be found in Nash's small study
was correct. He'd taken the stairs recklessly two at a time, slipping on
the dangerously polished wood risers more than once in his urgency
to assure himself of Harry's well-being.
Nash and Harry sat in upholstered armchairs in front of a
blazing fire, drinking glasses of brandy and staring shell-shocked at
the flames. Harry's overlong brown hair was still damp from bathing
and he was wrapped in a deep blue velvet robe that Martin had never
seen before. Nash was in a like state of undress, and both were
barefoot. Their chairs were angled to the fire and both men had
stretched their feet out to the flames as though chilled.
Ignoring Perry's imposing presence behind him, Martin darted
across the room to kneel at Harry's feet. He embraced Harry,
squeezing the other man so tightly he could feel his heartbeat against
his own damp jacket. The ache in his chest he hadn't been able to ease
since he'd left Harry in the cottage with the traitors finally faded as the
man's warmth soaked into him.
"Martin? You're making me wet again." Harry's hand on the
nape of his neck didn't seem to push him away though, and Martin
merely relaxed his grip. To his pleasure, Harry snuggled closer.
Closing his eyes helped to get his emotions under control. "I
saw the remains of the cottage. The workmen brought out a body, but
none of them could tell us if they'd seen you." He drew back slightly
to stare down into Harry's eyes through his spectacles. "I thought I'd
lost you."
"I'm right here," Harry soothed him, softly, leaning into him.
"He torched my cottage," Nash said sourly, swirling his glass
of brandy before taking another sip. "I lay the blame for this at your
door, Peregrine."
Perry approached and leaned against the mantle, letting the
heat of the fire dry out his own rain dampened clothes. "I fail to see
how I am responsible for Harry's setting fire to your cottage."
Harry turned to his brother. "It was the pistol I was modifying
for you, Perry. It worked beautifully."
Straightening slowly, Perry spoke with soft and deceptive
calm. "The pistol I asked you to modify was supposed to fire three
shots instead of one and to do so in rapid succession if necessary. It
was not supposed to blow up buildings and set them aflame."
"Oh, I know. But while I was working on that, which by the
way, wasn't working out correctly anyway, I figured out a way to
make the whole into a small incendiary device. It worked brilliantly."
Martin urged Harry to his feet and then slipped into the chair, pulling
Harry down onto his lap. Harry looked at him curiously then turned
back to Perry. "Your agents will love them."
A strange expression crossed Perry's face, his eyes widening
then narrowing, lips tightening to a thin line. "No, they will not. I
wanted something small and discreet. There is nothing discreet about
exploding buildings and setting them afire." Apparently that was the
end of that discussion because Perry turned his back to them and
addressed Nash. "That cottage was in terrible condition anyway. I had
understood that you intended to tear it down, so I seem to have done
you a favor."
"What happened?" Martin murmured to Harry when he'd
satisfied himself thorough examination that Harry was not injured.
"Perry, there's a decanter of decent smuggled brandy over
there on the table by the door to Nash's room. If you'll fill us all up
again, I'll fill you all in on what happened." Hiding his smile by
ducking his head and burying his nose in Harry's damp hair, Martin
thought that only Harry would have the temerity to order Lord
Gretton about like a servant.
Nash bolted out of his chair so fast all stared at him in shock.
"I'll fetch it. Perry needs to dry out before he ruins any of the rugs and
furnishings."
They watched silently as Nash in his stocking feet crossed to
the little table and picked up the entire tray with its remaining two
glasses and the crystal decanter. He set the tray on the floor by his
chair and poured glasses of brandy for both Perry and Martin.
Martin accepted his glass and took a sip, wrapping his other
hand around Harry's waist to reassure himself of his lover's safety.
"Ahem." The throat clearing dragged his attention from where
a tiny pulse beat at Harry's temple to realize that the other men in the
room were staring at him.
"Ah& " He gulped down more brandy. The fiery liquid seared [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]