Unraveled By The Rebel Read Online Free PDF Page A

until she found her mother. Beatrice hugged her tight, already holding the hand of Amelia. Her sister’s eyes were wide, terrified of the fire.
    “Where’s Margaret?” Beatrice demanded. “And Victoria?”
    She let out a shaky breath of air. “Victoria was in her room, the last I saw her. I haven’t seen Margaret.” Juliette glanced up at the house and saw that the flames were spreading so fast, it was nearly impossible to keep the fire under control. “Do you think they got out?”
    An icy coldness gripped her at the thought of losing her sisters.It couldn’t happen—she refused to even think of it. She stared at the flames, a thousand prayers rising up for their safety.
    “Stay here while I find out.” Beatrice took Juliette’s hand and put Amelia in her care. “Watch over your sister.”
    As soon as their mother left, Amelia started crying. Though her sister was sixteen and prone to dramatics, in this instance, she had reason to fear. “Toria’s still in the house. I just know it. I don’t want her to die.”
    “She won’t die.” Juliette held her sister tight, trying to soothe her, though she silently feared Amelia was right about Victoria. “They’ll bring her out, if she’s still there. Though I don’t think she would stay inside a burning house.” Even as she said the words, she wasn’t convinced. Her sister’s fears were deeply rooted, and Juliette had never once seen Victoria walk outside in the five years they’d been here.
    “They’ll find her,” she promised. But she kept searching for a glimpse of her sister.
Someone find her, please.
    There was an eerie silence, as the crofters passed their buckets down the line to the burning rooms. Though they fought bravely, Juliette suspected it was a losing battle to save the house. The stone exterior might remain, but the inside was crumbling apart.
    Horses approached, and at last, the riders returned. The duke wasted no time in dismounting from his horse, racing inside the burning house when he learned that his wife was still inside. Juliette was horror-struck, afraid that both of them would die in the conflagration.
    Dr. Fraser pushed his way through the people, his eyes searching until they rested upon her. The remainder of the crowd seemed to disappear until there was only him. His dark hair was rumpled, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. Though he didn’t move any closer, she sensed his unspoken words.
    You’re all right?
    Yes, I’m all right.
    Thank God.
    Juliette forced herself not to move forward, to let the distance remain between them. But she was so glad to see that he’d returned unharmed. It was a visible relief, though she couldn’t let go of the worry for her sisters.
    Dr. Fraser gave an almost imperceptible nod, fading back among the others until he took his place with the crofters. He rolled up his sleeves and aided them in fighting the fire while Juliette held back, praying that someone would find her sisters.
    An invisible weight lifted from her shoulders when Margaret joined them at last. Her sister’s hair was rumpled, her face flushed, but in her arms, she held a cloth bundle. Juliette recognized it as the garments Victoria had been sewing—hundreds of pounds’ worth of silk and satin. Their eldest sister had taken it upon herself to begin selling corsets and chemises in December, and the profits had been staggering. Though Margaret had balked at the idea, at least she’d had enough sense to salvage their raw materials.
    “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she murmured as Margaret embraced them both. Though her older sister gave no explanations about where she’d been, she pointed off in the distance. “Mr. Sinclair is hitching up the coach for us. He’s taking us somewhere safe for the night, since we can’t”—her voice broke off as she glanced back at the burning house—“sleep here.”
    “But what about Toria and Mother?” Amelia looked appalled at the idea of leaving them.
    “Mother is safe,