Seven Wicked Nights (Turner #1.5)

A rumbling rolled through the crowd toward her, then an actual cheer. Cat stopped on shaky legs and peered down the street. At the far end of Abbey Lane, where her cottages lay in smoke and ash, appeared a horse and carriage. No, not a carriage, another hose cart. Jamie must have sent word to the baronet, their closest neighbor. The horses protested at being led toward the fire. Their harnesses jangled as they threw their heads and drew back from the smoke.

Five men rushed forward and freed the hose cart from the horses, then ran the cart down the street to the smoldering ruins of the Warners’ cottage.

Water. Glorious water poured over the flames, sputtering them out.

The village was saved. But everything Cat had worked for—the cottages, the lace factory, the barns—it was all destroyed. Burnt to a pile of ash and charred ground.





Chapter Ten





FIRE IS AN EQUITABLE FORCE. It clears away everything in its path, regardless of use or beauty.

Jamie’s shoulders sank with relief when the blaze was contained at last. God’s teeth, he’d seen the plumes of smoke from miles away. He thanked the men who had fought the fire, grateful there were no serious injuries, and went to find his wife.

By now, the unburnt half of the village was swarming with dazed, sooty faces. Everyone wanted to talk to him. He shook hands, murmured assurances, and answered what questions he could. Finally he spotted Cat by the village square. She stood beside a wagon, a line of villagers spread before her. Two men wandered away with slices of cheese and apples in hand.

She was feeding them.

She was safe.

Breath he did not know he was holding whooshed out of him. Her face was pale beneath the smudges of soot and ash. At some point, she’d removed her bonnet and her hair fell in tangles around her shoulders. The sleeve of her gown was ripped, her skirts in ruins. She looked exhausted. She looked beautiful.

She looked sad.

He headed straight for her, not stopping until his arms were around her. He did not care who witnessed their embrace. God, what if something had happened to her? He loved this woman. Was fair to bursting with it. “I am so damn proud of you, Cat. And so sorry about your cottages.” His voice was raw from emotion as much as smoke.

“Jamie.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him tightly. “Don’t you ever disappear again.”

“I won’t, love.” He buried his face in her hair. She smelled like smoke.

“You’re squeezing me,” she coughed.

“I want you close.”

“I waited all night for you.”

He might have thought she was angry, were she not pressing her face into his neck. “I apologize, darling. I had to go around the bridge in Polesworth and lost nearly twenty miles. It was an incredibly difficult journey.”

“Polesworth? Where did you go?” His shoulder muffled her voice.

“To get you a gift.”

At this, she pulled back and looked up at him. Her eyes were soft, surprised, but the corners of her lips dipped down.

He ran a finger down her cheek. “Why are you angry with me?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed.

Jamie didn’t want to stop touching her. “I’m sorry I was detained, Cat. I meant what I said.”

“You said you needed an heir.”

“No.” He pulled her back into his arms so she wouldn’t see his smile. “I mean, I said a lot more than that.”

“You said you liked my taste in bedclothes.”

He let out an exasperated laugh. What a saucy wife he had. He loved that about her.

He dropped his chin and glanced down at her. She kept her face buried in his neck.

“Look at me.” She must have heard the tenderness in his voice, for when she glanced up, no lines of anger marked her features. “Let me be clear. I love you, Cat. I always have. I want you as my wife. And I never want to be away from you again.”





CAT STARED UP INTO her husband’s blue eyes.

He’d said he loved her.

Or maybe the fire and smoke and shouting had damaged her ears. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Cat.”

Her heart leapt, and she began to tremble everywhere.

“I—” She stopped to catch her breath. Why was she so nervous? She placed her hand on his heart. Willed herself to be brave. She wanted to say this, needed to. “I never stopped loving you, Jamie.”

She did not know he could look like this, so soft and tender. She kissed him on his chest, where his shirt was open. “I suppose if something is worth doing once, husband, it is worth doing twice.”

“Yes.” He stroked her hair.

Cat looked up at him, this man she had loved for as long as she could remember. “We can rebuild.”

He tilted his head to the side. “The cottages?”

“Yes, the cottages.” Down the lane, smoke rose from the ruins of her homes. She’d put so much time and work and hope into those cottages. A part of her felt very nearly burnt to the ground with them. But another part of her, a stronger part, refused to give up. She would rebuild. The families could stay in the empty cabins on the western edge of the estate, closer to the fields. Jamie wouldn’t hire more laborers until spring, and by then her families would be settled in the village. In fact, the women and children could help with the restoration.

One setback, even a large one, was not cause for defeat.