Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart) (21 page)

“Help! Help us!”

At the top of a loft, a mother appeared, cradling her baby close to her. Lisette recognised her straight away. ’Twas Elizabeth and baby John. Only days before Lisette had held and clucked over the infant as Rowan had ridden into village Romsey.

Lisette looked around her. The scene was sheer pandemonium. Everyone was occupied with fire-fighting further down the street and had not heard the cries over the roar and crackle of the fire and people shouting. There was no time to gain Rowan’s attention. He was still too far away from her.

’Twas up to her. She must do something.

“Catch him for me! Catch my baby!” Elizabeth called out in a panic as Lisette changed her direction and headed toward her.

“Nay! Don’t drop him.” There had to be another way, but she saw and understood the desperation in Elizabeth. The baby must be saved. Lisette would want that too if ’twere her babe at risk.

“The stairs and the back of the building are on fire. Pray help me!” the young mother sobbed. “I can’t get down.”

Praise God. There was a ladder which leant against the wall of the neighbouring building. ’Twasn’t long enough to reach the window if placed against the outside of the building, but it should reach the floor of the loft from inside the building. “Keep calm, Elizabeth. I’m coming for both of you.”

Unencumbered by the skirts of a gown, Lisette was able to move fast to get the ladder. ’Twas heavier than she’d thought, but her fear for Elizabeth and John gave her the strength to carry it. When she entered the barn she was nearly driven back out by the fierce heat of the flames which leapt about, consuming the rear wall of the structure.

“Elizabeth!” Lisette shouted. She hauled hard to stand the ladder up so that it rested against the upper floor. Hard, racking coughs jerked her frame. The smoke was getting thicker to the point that she found it a struggle to inhale. “Bring John. Quickly!”

Despite her eyes swimming in tears from the sting of the smoke, she saw Elizabeth appear with John. Lisette held tight to the sides of the ladder to brace it as the young mother made her way down. John’s wailing was interspersed with infantile coughing.

Pray, let me get them out in time!

Once down safely, Elizabeth turned. Her face was partly covered with a kerchief but, above the fabric, her watering eyes were panic-stricken. “My husband is still up there. He was hit by a flaming arrow.” She thrust baby John at Lisette. “I have to go back for him.”

Shock roiled through Lisette as she absorbed Elizabeth’s partially muffled words. If she’d heard properly this news could only mean there had been a deliberate attack on the village. Marking the thought in her memory she would ponder this further when the emergency was over. Now there was another to be saved.

“Nay, Elizabeth.”  She refused to take John from his mother. “Get John out.” Another series of coughs shook her frame. “I’ll go back up for Will.”

“Countess! It’s you!” Elizabeth’s tone was incredulous.

“Hurry, Elizabeth. Get John outside and tell Lord Rowan. It’s still not...”

There was a deafening sound from above. Lisette looked up just in time to see the main supporting beam of the roof partially give way. With an almighty shove, she pushed Elizabeth and baby John out of harm’s way and toward the doorway.

In the next second she was knocked heavily to the ground. A great weight pinned her shoulder and agonising pain reverberated through her skull before everything went black.

Chapter 10

“Lord Rowan! Come quickly!”

Rowan heard panic in the woman’s voice. Distress was etched into each of her features. “What is it,” he searched his mind for her name, “Elizabeth?”

“I need help. Will’s been wounded by a flaming arrow and he’s trapped in the fire. The countess has been injured.” She broke off on a huge sob.

What?
Rowan’s heartbeat stuttered. “My wife is hurt? How can that be?”

“Aye,” Elizabeth wailed as she hugged her baby tight. “I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

Terror shot through him and paralysed his movement. “Nay!” he choked out. “It cannot be.”

Lisette was injured? How badly? Was her unborn baby harmed? How could she possibly have been injured in their chamber? A multitude of questions bombarded his brain while a great ball of panic and dread lodged in his throat.

“She is trapped in the fire, my lord. You must come immediately.”

The woman was panicking and not making sense. Lisette couldn’t be in the fire. He’d left her in their chamber only a short time ago. For perhaps the first time in his life, Rowan’s cool, calm, logical thought processes deserted him. He looked in the direction of the castle but could not see any smoke coming from that direction. “The castle has been attacked?”

Without waiting for a reply to his question, Rowan cursed his stupidity. “Bradford! Round up the knights and tell them to follow me to the castle!” It had been obvious the minute he saw the village fire that it had been deliberately lit. The fire must have been a diversion to launch an attack against the castle. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He’d left Lisette there thinking she’d been safe when she’d actually been poorly defended and would have been safer by his side. “I’m going to my wife,” he told Bradford. “You stay here in the village. Elizabeth’s husband needs rescuing.”

“Nay, my lord!” Elizabeth almost screamed at him. “Lady Lisette isn’t at the castle. She’s trapped in our barn.”

He stopped mid-stride. Turning on his heel, he grabbed Elizabeth’s shoulders and looked into her troubled eyes. Had the woman lost her mind? “I left my wife abed at the castle.” In a flash he knew the truth of it. His wilful wife had disobeyed his order.

“Nay.” She shook her head vigorously. “She came to the village to help us.”

“For the love of God!”

Elizabeth’s teeth started to chatter. Tremors ran through her arms. “The roof has partly collapsed in our barn and the countess is trapped under a beam, Lord Rowan. The barn is ablaze.”

Fear, unlike any Rowan had known, gripped as sharp as a raptor’s claws. Sprinting across the street and down toward the barn of Elizabeth and Will, he clung to the faint hope that Elizabeth was mistaken. Lisette should be asleep. She should be keeping herself and her babe safe in their bed at the castle. He’d commanded that she wait for him. Anger started to churn with worry in the pit of his stomach. His wife had defied him and now her life and that of her child may be in danger.

Reaching his destination, he stopped for a moment to assess the situation. Black smoke spewed out from the building and dread squeezed his chest tight.

When he would have charged ahead, a hand on his arm arrested his movement.

“Nay, my lord.” Bradford breathed hard from the exertion of having kept up with Rowan. “You can’t seriously be thinking of going in there.”

“Will!” Elizabeth shrieked.

Rowan’s head snapped back and he followed Elizabeth’s gaze up. Elizabeth’s husband was out the loft window and hanging on by one arm. An arrow protruded from his back. The top floor had, indeed, collapsed. ’Twould be possible for Will to drop from his position now if they had some way of catching him so as to soften his fall. Bed linen was out of the question—the castle was too far away. Will swung a little precariously. The back of his shirt was stained with blood and he was surely in a weakened state.

“Hang on, Will!” Elizabeth screamed again.

Rowan’s mind raced.              “You’re certain Lisette is inside?” he demanded of Elizabeth, who began to sob almost hysterically.

A nod of reply was all she managed.

Scanning the area frantically for a solution, Rowan spied a wagon.

“Bradford, get that wagon.” He gestured toward it. “Get it under Will as fast as you can, man. If you stand in it you should almost be able to reach him to help him down to safety.”

Rowan was taller, but his first priority was to rescue Lisette. Bradford’s height should suffice.
Pray God, let me be in time before the entire structure collapses on top of her.

For the second time that night Rowan found himself charging into a burning building. The heat from the blaze was like a furnace blistering his skin. Head held as low as possible so he breathed the air where the smoke was thinner, he shielded his nose with the cloth of his sleeve to filter the air. Only a few steps in, he nearly stumbled over the beam. Squinting through gritty eyes, he made out a human form trapped beneath it. Mercifully the fire had not yet reached that section although tongues of flame lashed their way along the beam. Rowan dropped to his knees beside the trapped body.

Hell!
’Twasn’t his lady wife but a man. Despair filled him as he took in the hose covering the legs. He had to save this man, but he still had to locate Lisette.

Scanning up the body to see the point where the man was trapped by the beam, Rowan’s watering eyes narrowed then widened as he saw the figure had breasts.

Dear Lord
,
what is this?
He searched for the person’s face. Despite his incredulity he knew immense relief. Through the smoke he saw that ’twas his wife after all—she was merely dressed in male attire...His clothes. Shock had him paralysed and inept for several precious seconds as his brain tried to make sense of the scene before him. Urgently, he shook himself out of his trance.

“Lisette!” He stifled a cough. “Lisette, can you hear me?”

No response.

There was no time to check for a pulse. Damping down the panic welling in him that his wife may already be dead, he placed his arms around the beam and heaved. It barely budged, but he had to shift it for it pinned her shoulder to the ground.

Smoke filled his lungs, making his head spin with dizziness.

Nay, he would not be overcome. Her life depended on him.

With everything he had, he gritted his teeth, held his breath and prayed for strength as he struggled to haul the massive beam up and off Lisette. The muscles in his arms bulged and burnt. Every tendon in his wrists stretched as he tried to support the weight as it lifted. His shoulders and the muscles in his legs screamed in protest, yet he must move that beam away. His body’s protests had to be ignored. He could do this...he must do this. ’Twas his wife who lay there.

Rowan couldn’t hold his breath any longer. The smoke-filled air he breathed in irritated his lungs and hampered his strength rather than helping him. Steadying himself, he willed his feet not to lose grip as he took a step away from Lisette’s prone form. The last thing he needed now was to stumble and drop the beam back onto her body. Another step. One more. Sweat trickled from his brow. The pressure built up in his chest from the sheer effort of holding the beam. A cough threatened to erupt from his lungs, but he couldn’t let that happen. ’Twas essential to keep bearing this weight. Two more steps. Aye. He judged the distance and dropped the beam safely to the ground.

Deep coughs followed, for ’twas impossible to hold them at bay. Light-headed, he realised ’twould not be long before the smoke overwhelmed him. Focussing upon Lisette he forced his legs to move toward her. After having hefted the great weight of the beam away from her, she was weightless in his arms as he bent down and scooped her up.

I’ve got you, Lisette.
Now he had to get both of them out of there.

Rowan was more than a little disoriented in the thick smoke. He strained to see where he was going. The doorway must surely be close. He needed to keep the flames behind him.

“Lord Rowan!”

“Keep talking!” Rowan ordered.

Bradford’s voice rang clear above the raging of the fire and was exactly the guide Rowan needed to find his way to safety. Forcing one foot in front of another, he shifted Lisette so her face was turned into his chest. He prayed to God that he wasn’t imagining the slight rise and fall of her breasts and that she was alive with no lasting damage done to her or her babe.

In reality ’twasn’t more than a dozen steps before he stumbled out to safety on the village street, but it felt as though he was walking to London.

Bradford steadied him. “Let me take the countess, my lord,” his captain offered.

“Nay.” Rowan held Lisette tight while great wracking coughs shook him. His head ached so badly it made thinking difficult, but he would not surrender the care of his wife to another. Lisette was his to have and to hold...to love and to cherish...

“Bring water,” Bradford commanded as he steered Rowan to sit on the back of a wagon.

Rowan sat gratefully, his legs like lead weights. He wiped the stinging tears away and breathed in air that was less thick with smoke. “Lisette,” he rasped through his dry throat. She was still out cold and he could not rouse her. His fingers pressed into her wrist. “Praise God.” Her pulse was weak, but steady. “Summon the physician.”

“He’ll be here directly, my lord. Will is safe. The physician is tending his wound.”

“Good,” Rowan acknowledged.

“The countess rescued Elizabeth and her baby,” Sir Bradford informed him. “She insisted Elizabeth take the infant to safety and was about to try to save Will when part of the roof collapsed.”

Rowan looked down at his beautiful wife. Far from being dutiful and obedient she was wilful, reckless, infuriatingly defiant...and brave. She was also very lucky to have survived. Now he prayed that she had no serious injuries from the knock she’d received, for surely such an ordeal could cause her to miscarry.

Bradford passed a pail of water to him.

Shifting so that Lisette was still secure against him, Rowan cupped his hands and scooped some water to wash her face.

The slight moan from her was a good sign, but she did not rally to drink.

Fear for her health made his jaw tighten. She was still unconscious, probably having inhaled too much smoke.

For all her bravery, Lisette may yet pay a high price. By disobeying his command to stay at the castle, she’d jeopardised her pregnancy and put her life in danger.