She kicked him in the shin, used his surprise to push him off the porch and then raced through the front door. Vivid memories of her mother running inside their townhouse returned with painful clarity. Calliope felt sick and terror consumed her, but her foremost thought was finding James.
"James! James! Where are you?"
There was no answer. The entire back of the house was engulfed in flames. Sparks singed her hair and face. Seeing a shape ahead, Calliope dropped to the floor and crawled on hands and knees to the back hallway. James was pinned between a beam and the floor. He was trying to move the obstruction.
"What the hell are you doing? Get out of here before the ceiling collapses," he shouted.
It wasn’t exactly the welcome she had been hoping for, but she ignored his orders, panting as she tried to lift the beam. It was heavy. Falling cinders and scorching heat blasted her. Her bloody handprints stained the wood.
"If you don’t move your bloody arse towards the door, I will kill you myself."
"If you could carry out that threat we wouldn’t be here right now."
His eyes tried.
She bent her knees and heaved. Nothing. Suddenly Finn was next to her helping to lift the beam. The splinters of a crushed chair littered the floor around James. She grabbed one of the chair legs and used it as a lever under the beam. Finn grunted; she pushed. One more inch…
He was free.
James scooted out from under the beam and rose unsteadily to his feet. He nodded at Finn, who ran toward the door. James pressed her forward and she stumbled. Scooping her up, he hobbled as fast as he could.
Planks were falling everywhere and the opening of the door was surrounded by flames. James pulled her head against his chest and leaped through.
Chapter 16
Calliope closed her eyes as they dove through the burning doorway. James twisted in the air and took the brunt of the impact as she landed on top of him.
Together they collapsed on the grass, entwined and panting for air.
"How did you find me, James?"
"So that I could kill you." He coughed, his brows drawn together.
Calliope looked into his pain-filled eyes and fell in love with him all over again. She smoothed a lock of hair from his eyes and ran her fingers down his cheek. "How did you find me; not why. "
He grunted. "It was something Holt said."
"Holt knew I was here?"
"No, but he said the Earl of Flanders was often seen visiting Terrence Smith."
"You know about Flanders, then?"
A cinder landed on his torn shirt. "Yes."
Finn interrupted. "Do you think we might move away from the house?"
She scrambled to her feet and James followed. James limped a few steps before bending over. His hacking coughs inspired a similar reaction in her.
After a few minutes of bone-jarring coughs, her throat was raw but her lungs were clear. Satisfied that she was still intact, Calliope grabbed the cane from the ground. The handle was slick with blood where she touched it.
James was still bent over when she offered it to him. He took one look at the handle and grabbed her hands.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?"
He checked her hands, ignoring her head shake.
"Who did this?"
"l did it while trying to escape." Calliope pointed at the cane. "Cut them on the blade."
An icy mask fell over his features. "And your ripped dress?"
She had never seen him so angry. Calliope looked down at her hands. There were deep cuts oozing blood and she’d probably have some scars. But they still worked and that was all she was worried about at the moment.
James tore his cravat in two and wrapped the pieces carefully around her palms. He then picked up his discarded jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
Neighbors gathered around the edges of the property to watch the edifice burn. They were muttering among themselves, concerned about their adjoining properties.
"You’d think people would have used stone to build after the Great Fire."
"One can never be too careful."
Some kind-hearted soul had begun a bucket brigade to extinguish the flames, but it was a futile attempt. The building would be a total loss.
Finn dumped Terrence’s unconscious form into the carriage. His body sprawled across one seat. James lifted Calliope into the coach so she didn’t have to use her hands. As soon as he sat down, he pulled her onto his lap. She rested against his shoulder and he laid his cheek on her hair. She felt better than she had all day.
"Why did he start a fire?" James asked.
"It had to be the papers Flanders asked about. Terrence wouldn’t tell him where they were hidden. Destroying the whole house, with us in it, was the most efficient way to accomplish all of his goals." She shuddered. "But how did Holt know Flanders was the villain?"
"He recognized Flanders ’s ring. Apparently each ring is unique and Holt knows the markings on all of them."
She kept silent for a minute.
"We need to fetch a doctor for both Terrence and Stephen. Is it safe to send for one now?"
James nodded against her head. "Hopefully Stephen is awake and I can tell you both my plan."
They reached the townhouse and James lifted her gently from the carriage. He spoke to Finn, who nodded and then continued down the street. James and Calliope walked unsteadily to the door. No one greeted them and the door remained closed.
James opened it. "Where are the footmen?"
They walked slowly into the hallway. The two beefy footmen weren’t at their posts.
Something exploded in the backyard. They ran to the windows and saw Stephen’s carriage house ablaze. All of the servants were working to extinguish it.
James pulled out his pistol and pushed her behind him. "I should have had Finn take you someplace safer. I thought we had time."
The shrieks of the horses and yells of the servants trying to extinguish the blaze reverberated through the otherwise empty house.
"I want you to go back to the street and hail a hackney," he whispered.
"No. We have to see if Stephen is still upstairs. I’m not leaving without you," she whispered back. She wasn’t going to budge.
He narrowed his eyes. "Stay behind me."
Their footfalls registered on the marble floor with each step.
There wasn’t a servant in sight.
The stairs rose into the distant shadows. Each step increased her anxiety. Calliope’s nerves were frayed by the time they neared her door.
James reached for the handle but it was flung aside. A flash of movement from the corner of her eye was the only warning she had before a rough hand twisted her arm from behind.
"Move inside, my lord." Curdle’s oily voice and fetid odor coated Calliope’s skin.
Flanders stood inside the doorway. "My, my… your survival skills are amazing, my dear. Glad you two could join my little party. Where is Terrence?"
"He’s safe," James said.
"We shall see. I don’t think Terrence has enough survival skills to last long."
Calliope looked to the bed. Stephen’s eyes were burning holes into Flanders ’s expensively tailored coat. His complexion was still pale, but he was conscious. Curdle shoved her forward, positioning himself with his back to the corner.
"Stephen, are you all right?"
"I’ve had better days. You two don’t look so well either."
Calliope gave him a weak smile and tried to edge away from the gun’s barrel.
"Don’t you worry, my sweet. You will be the last to go. I have plans for you." The whispered voice repulsively caressed her ear as he ran the gun down her side. "I thought I’d lost my chance, but the fates are kind today."
James’s eyes were murderous as he moved toward them, but he stopped when the hammer cocked at Calliope’s side.
"The good Mr. Chalmers has deigned to grace our presence once again," Flanders said. "You were lucky you had such a faithful watcher Chalmers, or else we would have had you days ago."
Stephen frowned in obvious confusion, but said nothing.
"But you finally made a mistake, Chalmers," Flanders said with relish. "At our meeting I noticed your expression when you saw Holt’s ring. I knew then that you had mine or at the very least knew where to find it. You found Salisbury just before he died; it made sense you recovered it, even though I didn’t find it on him myself. "
"Why did you need it back?" Calliope’s interruption caused Flanders to shift his attention to her. James was inching toward Stephen and he needed more time.
"I needed that ring back so I wouldn’t be implicated. The ring identifies me as plainly as my face."
"Implicated in killing my father? Why did you do it?"
"The bloody bastard was investigating us, his own team, and he was too close to finding the truth."
"The truth that you were working with Bonaparte, not against him?"
Flanders stared at her, mouth gone slack. James and Stephen both turned to her as well.
Calliope continued. "If the group’s sole purpose was to work against Bonaparte and the members started cannibalizing each other, then it was because some of you were working for the general."
Stephen nodded at her. "Our intelligence sources detected a resurgence of correspondence and suspicious movement among Napoleon’s staunch supporters. We knew the Old Guard was assembling and that plans for Napoleon’s escape from Elba were being hatched."