Susan Stephens - Susan Stephens Selection

Laughing hysterically, Kate got to her knees and made a desperate calculation. There was no sign as yet of any flames on the upper floor of the cottage. Perhaps she could retrace her steps? Dazed with shock, she got up slowly. She had seen films where people wet a cloth and tied it around their mouth and nose to keep out the worst of the deadly fumes.

All she could think about was the locket. And then she remembered the chain biting into her hand as she leaped down the stairs. Slipping off her robe, she soaked it under the outside tap. Then, shivering with fear and cold, she forced her arms back inside the sodden towelling. Stepping quickly out of her flimsy pyjama bottoms, she wet them too and, tying them around her face, she staggered back to the front door cursing the fact that while her resolve was as strong as ever, the old injury to her leg was holding her back. Darting her head in and out fast, she took in the scene. The fire had taken a strong hold, but the flames would light her way and she might be all right if she was quick enough. There was a slim chance she could save the locket before it melted into a pool of molten metal…and a slim chance was enough.

She was just gearing herself up to dive in when the sound of noisy engines crested the ugly sounds of the fire. People were shouting and then she became aware that alarm bells were ringing in the village. Relief burst from her throat in a guttural cry she would not have recognised as her own. She was so thankful not to be alone—so grateful someone had noticed and had thought to rouse help. But she was past the point where reason governed her actions. And if she was going to find the locket she had to go now—

‘No! Kate, no! What are you doing?’

An iron band snapped round her waist, holding her back. Then she was yanked away from the threshold of the cottage—carried off, away from the stream of people who were racing up the path—some carrying a wide bore hose between them, others bringing water in an endless stream of buckets and all of them shouting, urging each other on as they rushed to help.

‘Let me go! Let me go!’ Kate shrieked so forcefully that her throat was almost raw by the time Guy lowered her to the ground.

‘ Mon Dieu! Kate!’ he said as he stared into her wild, desperate eyes. ‘What were you thinking of? You could have been killed!’

‘I don’t care! It doesn’t matter! Don’t you understand?’ she cried huskily as she tried to fight him off, tried to get back to the cottage. ‘I have to go back. Let me go!’

‘No!’ Guy rasped as he held her tight to his chest.

‘I’m warning you—’ But her voice was wobbling and her legs were giving way.

‘No,’ he said again a little more gently, but holding her even more securely. ‘You’re not going back in there, Kate. It’s too late.’

‘No! It can’t be!’ Her cry was almost primeval in intensity. But her ferocity only seemed to make Guy all the more determined to hold on to her.

‘ Regardes , Kate!’ he insisted, gripping her chin and forcing her round to face him. ‘They’re getting the fire under control. The cottage will be saved. Look!’ he said again. And when she tried in a last desperate flurry of blows to fight him off, he bound her so tight in his arms she couldn’t move at all. ‘You can’t turn away,’ he said, ‘and you will listen to me. I will personally oversee all the repairs. I’ll have the damn cottage rebuilt brick by brick if necessary. I’ll even build it myself—’

‘No…no, you don’t understand,’ she broke in, repeatedly shaking her head. ‘It won’t be the same.’

‘What do you mean, it won’t be the same?’

‘Aunt Alice’s things—’ Kate broke off then, sobbing against him, melting into him, accepting, needing his arms around her and the comfort of his soft, body-warmed sweater against her face.

‘Things?’ Guy queried softly, nestling his face against the top of her head while he smoothed her hair with long calming strokes.

‘You know what I mean,’ Kate insisted.

‘I’m not sure I do,’ he said, holding her back so that he could look into her face. ‘But if you’re trying to tell me that all these tears are being wasted on a few ornaments and decorations—’ He shook his head as he stared down at her. Then, very gently, he rested the palm of his right hand against the left side of her chest. ‘Aunt Alice is in here, Kate, not in the cottage,’ he said softly.

For a few moments she stared back at him. His conviction gave her strength, broke through the madness of the last hour. Very slowly she relaxed in his arms. ‘You’re right,’ she whispered, fighting to come to terms with it. ‘But it’s not fair,’ she added brokenly, half to herself. ‘I can’t keep hold of the past, however hard I try.’

The soft knit of his cashmere sweater felt warm against her face as she nestled against it and Guy’s voice was like a caress as he drew her into him. ‘The future will be even better,’ he said roughly. ‘You’ll see.’ But then they were distracted by a small group of men, their faces smoke-blackened as they emerged from the cottage.

‘Everything is under control, Monsieur le Comte,’ said one. ‘But we will have a better idea if the structure is safe in the morning, when we can make a thorough examination in good light.’

‘ Merci…merci beaucoup ,’ Guy exclaimed softly, still with his arm around Kate, supporting her. ‘You have all responded magnificently. I can’t thank you enough.’

Kate knew words were inadequate for what they had done. ‘You saved the cottage and my life. I will always be in your debt,’ she managed huskily.

‘It is nothing, mademoiselle ,’ the leader informed her. It is our job, after all.’

‘It was the middle of the night,’ Kate pointed out hoarsely. ‘Yet you came…all of you.’ She turned to include the many villagers who had turned out to help their local firemen.

‘Monsieur le Comte alerted us,’ one man explained. ‘We all rely on each other here in Villeneuve. It’s a good system, don’t you think, mademoiselle ?’

‘I certainly do,’ she said, flashing a look at Guy, who showed no sign of wanting to accept any of the credit for saving her life. ‘And now that the fire is out, can I just go back inside and—?’

‘Certainly not, mademoiselle ,’ the chief fireman insisted. ‘We cannot be sure yet that the cottage is safe. You really must wait until tomorrow.’

‘But if I only take a quick look around outside, surely that will be OK?’ As Guy groaned with impatience she saw how the thick black smudges only managed to enhance his incredible bone structure. Only Guy, she thought ruefully, could look like some warrior prince with what looked like camouflage paint striped across his face.

‘You’re not going back,’ he said bluntly.

Kate bristled. She wasn’t used to following orders. ‘But if the fire engine turned so that its lights—’

‘I know you’ve had a frightening experience and I know you’re upset,’ Guy told her, ‘but you’re not thinking straight. These men left their beds to come here.’

A rush of heat spread across her cheeks as Kate realised he was right. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said at once. ‘It can wait.’ It couldn’t, but she knew it would have to.

With their job completed, the villagers and the firemen began to peel away, singly and in groups, until just Kate and Guy were left together on the grassy bank in front of the cottage. The only light came from the slivers of moonshine that managed to penetrate the thick canopy of trees.

‘I’m taking you home with me,’ he said, starting to lead her away.

‘Oh, no, I—’ She tried to pull back and then stopped. What was she going to do? She had nothing with her and was only wearing the top of her pyjamas under a filthy, wet robe. She could hardly bed down in the forest dressed like that.