Page 163 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

The bonds came free and Porter scrambled up, then froze, his face going pale. "He's here. In the house."

"Where?"

"I don't know. He had Thomas too, and someone else. Someone he paid. They set three fires, all timed to trap..." He stopped, horror dawning. "You're the target. This whole wing, it's meant for you."

"What?"

"He knew you'd come for the servants. He said you were too noble for your own good. This is a trap."

The door slammed shut behind them before Arabella could respond. They both spun to find Harrington standing there, wild-eyed and smoke-stained, holding a lamp that flickered dangerously.

"Lady Blackthorn. How perfectly predictable."

"Let us go."

"No. This is better than I planned. He couldn't save Matilda. Let's see if he can save you and your child."

"We're married!"

"Now. But were you when it was conceived? Or did you trap him with a baby like the fallen woman you are?"

"How dare you?"

"Matilda was pure. Innocent. You're nothing but a lake-diving fortune hunter who..."

His words were cut off by Arabella swinging a nearby candlestick with all her strength. It caught him on the shoulder, sending him stumbling.

"Run!" she shouted at Porter, who didn't need to be told twice.

But Harrington recovered quickly, rage making him strong. He grabbed her wrist, twisting until she dropped the candlestick.

"You're going to burn," he hissed. "Like she did. Alone and afraid."

"I'm not alone."

"No? Where's your precious Beast? Saving others, like the hero he pretends to be. He'll have to choose, you see. You, Cordelia, or the servants. He can't save everyone."

"He doesn't have to. We save ourselves."

She brought her knee up hard, catching him in a place that made him release her with a howl. But as she turned to run, pain shot through her abdomen—sharp, wrong, terrifying.

"No," she gasped, her hand going to her stomach. "No, not now."

"What..." Harrington started, then his eyes widened as he saw her double over. "You're..."

"In labour, you fool! Your revenge is going to kill an innocent baby!"

"I didn't mean...Matilda wouldn't want..."

"Matilda's dead! She doesn't want anything!"

Another contraction, stronger than the first. The smoke was getting thicker, the heat unbearable. Through the door, she could hear shouting—Lucien's voice among them.

"He's coming," Harrington said, something strange in his voice. Not satisfaction, but fear? Regret?

"Good."

"He'll be too late."