stand on end, and touched the lit end of the candle to the fragile silk bed hangings. They caught at once, and within seconds the flames were crawling up the carved wooden bed posts to the canopy above.
“No!” Gideon made another grab for Leanora, but it was too late. The candle fell to the floor behind the bed. Gideon prayed the flame was snuffed out before it dropped, but a second later the thick carpet under their feet caught fire.
Leanora whirled around and… somehow vanished into the clouds of smoke billowing toward the ceiling, as if she truly were a ghost.
Gideon stared with his brain frozen in shock. He took a step toward the empty place where she’d been moments before, but Cecilia grabbed his arm. She was shouting something at him, but Gideon couldn’t hear what she said over the roar of the fire. Something about a blocked passageway, and getting trapped inside the castle.
“Gideon!” Cecilia clawed at his arm. “Listen to me!”
He jerked his attention back to her, dazed, but as he stared into her dark eyes, the fog dissolved, and his brain snapped back into focus.
Cecilia. The only thing that mattered now was Cecilia.
Without a word, he swept Cecilia into his arms, but just as he turned toward the door leading into the hallway, the beam above exploded in a shower of sparks, then collapsed to the floor with a thundering crash.
Their only hope now was to flee through Cecilia’s bedchamber. The connecting door itself was on fire, the hungry flames devouring the wood, but for the moment, the beam was still sound. Gideon rushed toward it, and with Cecilia still in his arms, kicked the burning door open and flew through it.
“Isabella!” Cecilia screamed. She struggled to get free as they ran through her bedchamber, but Gideon held her fast. “She’s safe.”
The flames hadn’t reached this room yet, but the smoke was so thick Gideon could hardly make out the door. He staggered in that direction, his head going dizzy as his lungs burned for air, but just as he was certain he couldn’t take another step—that he’d fall to his knees—he was through the door and into the hallway, Cecilia clutched in his arms.
They were both choking and gagging on the smoke, but Gideon kept running, the fire at his back and a desperate prayer on his lips. He ran down the stairs and through the entrance hall, sucking in breath after greedy breath as they left the worst of the smoke behind them.
His eyes were burning and stinging, but as he stumbled through the entrance hall, he could see Mrs. Briggs, Amy, and Isabella on the other side of the door. Duncan and Fraser stood behind them, and Haslemere and his men were just thundering up the drive, Haslemere’s face as white as death.
Gideon burst through the door, and a shout went up when they staggered onto the drive. He fell to his knees, still clasping Cecilia against his chest. A second shout went up—Haslemere and the men—and then everyone was rushing upon them at once.
Gideon didn’t know how long they sat there in the drive with everyone crowding around them. All he knew was he had Cecilia in his arms, and she was holding him tightly against her, as if nothing in the world could ever make her let him go.
Chapter Twenty-five
Lady Leanora, the sixth Marchioness of Darlington and Edenbridge’s notorious White Lady, died in the fire at Darlington Castle, overcome by the smoke billowing into the secret passageway.
Alerted by the smoke pouring into the sky, a group of men from Edenbridge arrived at the castle soon after Cecilia and Gideon escaped, and worked alongside Gideon, Haslemere, and their men to battle the fire. By dawn the following morning the flames were out, but the entire eastern wing of the castle where Cassandra’s bedchamber had been had collapsed into rubble.
Cecilia, Amy, and Mrs. Briggs were sent to the Dower house with Isabella, who, after a warm bath and much petting and soothing, had at last been coaxed into bed. Amy took a bed in the same room so she could comfort her if she woke.
Mrs. Briggs made up beds for herself and Cecilia on the same floor, but neither of them retired. Cecilia had been standing at the window in the front parlor since they arrived at the Dower house, gripping the windowsill with white knuckles.
“Go to bed, Cecilia.” Mrs. Briggs stood behind her, wringing her hands. “You need to rest, child.”
Rest. There’d