Thoughts of Lilly willingly spreading for such a man turned Arabella’s stomach. “I thought she was in love with you...”
“She is in love only with herself.” Gregory, grin growing by the lingering flicker of lamplight, crooned. “As I am in love only with you, and you are in love only with me.”
When he spoke to her that way, his voice gentle and touch sweet, Arabella never knew what to make of Mr. Harrow. “I have so many questions, Gregory. Ion...”
Standing over her, he took her face in his hands. “What of Ion?”
Guilty to her core, Arabella swallowed. “Ion died on that ship.”
Gregory dared to stroke his thumb over the hollow of her cheek. “What did he have left to live for?”
Arabella could not answer. All she could do was close her eyes. “You used him up, convinced him to take his own life.”
“I ask you again, Arabella. What did Ion have to live for? Do you not think he might have desired to die now that his family was avenged? Do you not think he longed to go to them in heaven?”
Eyes spilling, she whispered. “Murderers do not go to heaven.”
Sweet as honey, ravenous smirk in place, Gregory swore, “I would fight my way past the gates of hell to find you in heaven and be at your side. Do not doubt his love for his wife and the child stolen from him would be any less.”
Leaning down to claim her lips, groaning in triumph, he took and took. She let him have her mouth, she let him have her breath, wanting reassurance even from the devil.
Gregory did not push, bent on comforting the woman who was scared, tired, and in pain. “Tomorrow I will finish this.”
Nodding, Arabella sniffed. “And then?”
“We marry.” His smile was genuine, his touch careful as he wiped her tears.
In that quiet moment it felt as if the world did not extend beyond the two of them. Payne’s deep breaths were their music, the snores of Hugh, soft as a breeze.
Gregory noticed before she, the man stiffening and pricking his ear toward the window. It started softly, growing in the wind—a cacophony of shrieks. Fire!
The smell of smoke came next.
Taking his lapels, Arabella demanded, “What have you done?”
An instant grip on her arm shackled the baroness when she thought to rush to the window. Gregory still as stone, whispered, “This was not I.”
He was listening for something, watching the stable door as if anticipating combat. The house was in a panic, the whine of windows forced open, the shattering of glass. It all happened so quickly, and then they saw the cause.
Flames were seen licking out the casements on Stonewall Grove’s second floor. Windows thrown open to release the smoke, encouraged the fire, men and women in their nightclothes streaming out into the yard.
Arabella’s immediate thoughts were only of her family. If an ember were to land on the stable’s roof, the structure would ignite in moments. Glancing to where Payne convalesced, darting a gaze back to Hugh’s waking form, she sought out a view of one more and found her missing. “Where is Mary?”
Ignoring Gregory’s iron arm around her middle, Arabella called, “Hugh, where has Mary gone?”
Blinking, hay falling from his hair, Hugh shrugged. “I do not know, my lady.”
Heart in her throat, Arabella rounded on the man determined to pin her to his side. “Gregory? She is in the house.”
“You cannot go in there!”
A wink of light flashed off her hidden weapon, Arabella raising it to him with a shaking hand. “Mary needs me. Please, do not make me hurt you.”
Silver saw pressed to his throat, the teeth biting, Gregory’s black eyes were full of a different kind of pain. “Arabella... listen to me. In the melee one of them might grab you. Screams would go unnoticed. Do you understand what I am saying?”
Tears fell free, Arabella pleading, “I do not know how she did it, I do not know why. All I know is that Mary must have gone into the house... I have to find her.”
Wrapping his spare hand around the silver serrated edge, Gregory pushed the blade from his throat. “No.”