Clarissa is standing on the deck, a fiery tornado of deadly flame swooping around her, but she doesn't feel afraid. A figure is standing behind her, their arms wrapped around her shoulders, holding her, comforting her. She turns her head and smiles, looking up into Daniel's handsome face. A sense of relief and calm flows through her and she leans her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. The fire creeps closer to them, biting at their ankles but they stay locked in their embrace.
Then, a searing pain grips Clarissa's wrist and she gasps, looking down. A charred hand with pealing flakes of flesh has attached itself to her and trying to pull her into the fire. She struggles against it but the grip is punishing and brutal, she turns to Daniel for help but her eyes widen as he grins manically and lets go of her. She begins to scream as she is yanked closer to the wall of flame. She fights with all her might, kicking and yelling, but she cannot escape the burnt hand as it pulls her to her death. A solid shove to her back sends her stumbling forwards. She glances over her shoulder just in time to see Daniel smirk and give a small wave before the fire engulfs her. The betrayal and hurt rip through her but she barely has time to process it as she falls. She puts her hands out in front of her, expecting to be falling onto fire and wood but instead her palms hit cold ground.
She groans as she hits the stone, the impact sending waves of dull pain through her body. Once the ache has subsided, she raises her head and squints around her. The fire has vanished and she is lying on the pavement in front of her old house. A small whimper draws her attention and she clambers to her feet, moving towards it. A burnt and shaking body lies on the top step, curled up and helpless, moaning something terrible. Clarissa immediately rushes over to kneel at their side. She brushes the remaining wisps of hair from their face and then she freezes.
Staring back at her are the same purple eyes she sees when she looks in the mirror. She tears her hand away, scrambling back, her heart pounding in her ears. She feels sick but she can't drag her gaze away from her dying self, their pitiful cries filling her ears. A dull thud echos through the street and she looks around, terrified of what is coming next. She feels invisible hands seize her shoulders and she starts to scream as she is shaken like a rag doll.
"Clarissa,"
She moans and pushes out.
"Clarissa!"
"Wha...what?" Clarissa jolts awake, disorientated. She blinks and sees Daniel leaning over her, his tousled blonde hair falling lazily across his face. She sits up, looking around, her fear falling away when she realises that she is safe in his room. The dull thud happens again and she jumps.
"What's going on?" She asks, pinching her arm to make sure she still isn't dreaming. The faint light from a single candle illuminates half of the room, casting the rest in shadow but she can see the clock on the bedside table is reading a little after half 2.
Daniel places a finger to her lips and shakes his head. He gestures for her to stay and then he climbs out of bed and picks up the poker by the fireplace. He creeps towards the door, his weapon held aloft. The knock happens again and they share an alert and alarmed look, both ready to strike. Before they can make another move the door crashes open and a young boy stumbles into the room.
"Who the hell are you?" Daniel barks, brandishing the poker and advancing on him. The boy skids to a halt to avoid the sharp point, holding up his hands in surrender.
"Simon, what are you doing here?!" Clarissa demands, frowning at his dark hair, wonky jaw and the S Guard badge sitting askew on his jacket. Simon ducks around the sharp iron rod, giving the duke a wary look before approaching the bed.
"You have to come now!" He pleads, grabbing her nearest hand, panic alive in his eyes, "There's an emergency in Kingsway,"
"What?" Daniel drops the poker and strides over to him. He removes the boy's grip on his wife, and holds him firmly by the shoulders, looking directly into his eyes, "What's happened?"
"I don't sir, but I was sent here to tell you to come," Simon says frantically, his thin face full of terror, "And to get you to come no matter what,"
"Who gave the order?" Clarissa asks, getting out of the bed and lighting another candle. The warm light floods the room, sending shadows spiralling across the furniture.
"Peter and John miss," Simon replies. She frowns, turning to Daniel.
"Jack and Tim are on watch tonight," She says, "So this isn't about them, and they wouldn't both ask for us unless it was serious,"
He nods grimly, his mind on the same path. There is a pause and then he turns to the boy, releasing his shoulders, "We will leave immediately. Follow the stairs down and take a right to the servants quarters and tell them to ready my horse."
Simon nods and wastes no time in rushing from the room. Daniel sighs, running a hand through his hair and Clarissa raises the candle so she can see his face better.
"What do you think it is?"
He shakes his head, directing her in the direction of her dressing room, "Get dressed and bring a coat, and then meet me outside,"
Clarissa doesn't hesitate, she hurries to her wardrobe and dresses as quickly as she is able in the half-light. She pulls out a long navy coat and puts it on, buttoning it all the way to the top. As she leaves, she picks up a ribbon from her dressing table and ties it into her hair, keeping the wild unbrushed locks at bay.
The crisp cold early morning air hits her in the face as she steps outside. Daniel has already mounted a large grey steed held by one of the servants. He reaches down and helps her onto the saddle behind him. She wraps her arms around his waist and tucks her face into the soft material of his jacket. She hears him mutter to the servant and then he urges the horse forward. The horse trots out of the open gate and then they move into a canter. They tear down the streets, flying past closed shops and dark houses. The rhythm of the hooves and the early morning air is too familiar to Clarissa's last disaster, and it has created a sick feeling in her stomach. The streets are quiet, eerily so, with most of the shops and houses dark, and sleeping and a light fog lingers in the air, trapping the light from the dim lamps and casting it below.
Kingsway is in The City, roughly 2.5 miles away from Lygon Place so it takes them 20 minutes to arrive in the right area. Daniel slows the horse to a stop when he sees Peter standing on the corner of the street. He dismounts, only slowing to help Clarissa down, before marching over to her godfather and seizing him by the scruff.
"What the hell has happened? What is going on?" He demands, shaking the older man. Clarissa steps forward to intervene but Peter doesn't react, he just looks at the duke with a regretful expression.
"I am deeply sorry, your grace," He says, lowering his eyes to the ground. Daniel frowns at him, tightening his grip and casting a look around the cobbles. Some shouting comes from the next street and it startles the horse into rearing up. Clarissa is instantly at the animal's side, soothing him in a lowered voice, stroking his long neck. The horse paws the ground but settles back down, snorting. Daniel checks that she is fine before turning back to Peter to continue the questioning.
"What....."
"My duke," John Francis appears on the corner of the street, his hands behind his back. Daniel drops Peter, pushing past him and walking over to his man.
"What is going on?"
John looks away, pursing his lip, struggling for words, "You have to see this,"
Clarissa pushes the horse's reins into Peter's hand and marches to her husband's side.
"What's happened?" She asks, but John just shakes his head and gestures for them to follow him. He leads them around the corner onto Kingswell and then Clarissa feels her heart stop.
Grace Cavendish hangs from a sign advertising a tobacco lounge, a thick rope tied around her neck. Her eyes are open and glassy, her arms hang at her sides and her head is lolling to the right at an unnatural angle. Her corpse swings in the breeze, white and ghostly, an expression of slight surprise on her face. She is like a rag doll, limp and broken, suspended in mid-air for all to see.
Already a group of drunks, late-night strollers and locals have gathered nearby to stare and point, but a few of Daniel's men are standing around the body, keeping anyone from getting too close. The tears begin to fall thick and fast as Clarissa stares at the body of her mother in law, her throat thick and constricted. She goes to move forward but a hand clamps down on her shoulder. She looks up and Daniel stares stiffly down at her, no emotion on his face.
"You can't react," He instructs, moving his grip down to take her hand and pull her to his side.
"What?" She gasps, through half-choked sobs, pain blurring her senses. He sighs and turns her into him so that her face is pressed up against the soft cotton of his jacket. His arm holds her protectively as he looks at the body of his mother.
"Stop crying Clarissa, and compose yourself," He orders, squeezing her shoulder, "We are being watched."
She opens her mouth in disbelief, her voice sticking in her throat. She turns her head to look at their audience. They are watching her and the duke closely, but how can one hold their emotion in, in such a situation? Why can't she cry? Daniel senses that she wants to move away but he holds her close, his arm tightening around her.
"I am not letting you go until you stop crying and act accordingly," He warns.
"But it's...."
"I know who it is," He snaps, a hint of pain cutting through. She gasps against his chest, fresh tears appearing in the corner of her eyes. She tries to hold them back, but they pour down her face, soaking into his jacket. He looks down at the top of her head and growls.
"Fuck this,"
He roughly pulls her away from Grace, turning them away. He jerks his head and John follows them as he takes long, purposeful strides away, with her trailing behind him. With her free hand, Clarissa wipes away the tears on her face, sniffling and stumbling on the cobbles. She takes a final look behind her as they disappear around the corner and Grace's glassy eyes find her. A shiver runs through her at the dead, empty orbs that once held such light. They pass Peter, who opens his mouth but one glance from the duke effectively silences him. They continue to march down the street until Daniel swings to the right, entering a dark alley. He drops her hand and she falls against the wall as he rounds on his guard.
"What happened?" He snarls, his voice is as sharp as nails and as cold as ice.
John flinches under the scrutiny but manages to answers confidently, "The night patrol found her around 2 am. We searched the area but we couldn't find anything suspicious and there were no witnesses."
"She has guards to prevent things like this from happening!" Daniel seethes, "What happened to them?"
John sighs, "I've spoken to them and they reported nothing unusual until she didn't appear from her book club in Holborn. It normally finished between 8 and 10 but when it struck 11 she still hadn't appeared. They searched for her but she was nowhere to be seen. Her guards aren't even sure that she was even there in the first place."
Clarissa's eyes widen and she realises that her hands are shaking. She hides them behind her back, a chill running through her.
"Book club?" Daniel spits, "How the fuck did she go missing from book club?"
"Because she wasn't there," Clarissa murmers, more to herself than anyone else, but the men hear her words and turn to her. With their attention on her, she straightens up, clearing her throat, "Dury Lane Theatre is near here, correct?"
"Yes, two streets over," John says, confused.
"That's where she was," She says, raising a shaking hand to wipe the streaks off her face, "She used the book club to lose her guards so she could go to the theatre,"
"How do you know?" Her husband demands, stalking towards her.
She backs up against the wall, away from his imposing figure. Her voice trembles as she replies, "She told me,"
John and Daniel share a glance while she closes her fists, her nails biting into her skin. The pain trickles up her palms and calms her racing heart, although the pain is still burning.
"She told me," She repeats, stronger this time. The men seem to accept this explanation as they fall silent and consider the situation in front of them.
John breaks the quiet, "People will be starting to wake soon, we can't leave her there to be ogled at,"
"I know," Daniel murmers, rubbing his temples as he thinks, "Does my brother know?"
"Yes, he was in the area when we found her," John says, "But he disappeared soon after,"
"Do you know where he went?" Clarissa questions. Her heart is bleeding for both Cavendish brothers and she needs to know that George is safe and not alone.
"He said he was going home," John says, glancing at her distractedly.
"Good," Daniel says, placing his hands on his back and rotating his neck, "Alright," He turns to John, "Find Rawson, get him here now. She needs to be gone before the whole of London wakes up. We were never here."
John bows lowly, "Of course, your grace," He casts a meaningful grimace towards Clarissa before leaving the alley. With him gone, Daniel's posture sags and his mouth twitches, indecision flickering in his face as he looks at her. He mutters something that she doesn't quite catch.
"Pardon?" She says, stepping forward, searching for something in his cool calculating eyes.
"Tell me it wasn't you!" He says through gritted teeth, as though the mere idea is causing him great pain. She swallows and places her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look directly at her.
"It wasn't me," She vows, not blinking. He regards her for an agonising moment before nodding, seeming to believe her. Her hands drift down to his shoulders and she leans into him. She doesn't blame him for asking her, she would do the same in his position.
"Let's go home," She whispers, bringing his face close to hers, "Please take me home,"
He shakes his head and tries to pull away, "Angel, I have to do...."
"There is nothing you can do," She says, firmly cutting him off, "So you are going to take me home right now,"
She waits for his argument but it doesn't come, so she takes his hand and leads him out of the alley.