One Wicked Winter

by Emma V. Leech

  After a pleasant couple of hours spent enjoying the old lady’s gossip, especially as it pertained to the marquess, who had been quite a terror as a boy, by all accounts, she set off for home. Walking back, however, she paused as she strolled past Mr and Mrs Abram’s farm, as she heard plaintiff crying coming from one of the barns.

  Calling out, she got no reply, but the crying persisted, so she set down her empty basket and went to investigate.

  The barn was huge and cavernous with a vast, high ceiling. It was dark, too, after the bright sunlight of the spring day, and Belle squinted. The crying had dropped to a whimpering sound, and Belle looked up to see a pair of large brown eyes staring down at her from the hayloft.

  “Hello,” she called up as a dirty, tear-streaked face appeared around the eyes, which blinked in an owlish fashion. “Are you alright?”

  The little boy, as that was what it was, wiped his nose on his sleeve and shook his head. “Stuck,” he said, rather succinctly.

  “Oh, dear.” Belle bit her lip and eyed the spindly ladder and the height of the loft with misgiving. “Shall I go and get help?”

  The boy shook his head again looking panicked. “I ain’t supposed to be up here. Da works for Mr Abram and I been tol’ I mustn’t come again. Ma will tan me hide, anyways, now, since I missed breakfast,” he added with a tragic expression.

  “How long have you been up there?” Belle demanded.

  “Dunno. Long time. Me guts is rumblin’,” he added.

  Belle sighed and hitched her skirts up. He was only five years old, by her reckoning, and on the scrawny side, but she still doubted she could carry him. But maybe she could help him come down by himself.

  Half way up, her courage deserted her and she made the mistake of looking down.

  “Oh, my,” she murmured, clinging to the ladder for dear life.

  “I know,” the boy said with a grave tone, staring down with his wide eyes. “That’s why I’m stuck.”

  Belle muttered that it wasn’t a terribly helpful remark and advised him to heed his Da’s advice in the future.

  Once at the top, and after a fair deal of discussion, she persuaded the boy to turn around and back onto the ladder, placing his feet onto the rungs with care. Once he was on, the two of them just stayed still for a moment, both of them quaking and breathless.

  “You ain’t gonna swoon?” the boy demanded in terror, clinging to the ladder with white knuckles.

  “Certainly not!” Belle replied with asperity, though she did feel rather light-headed. “Now come along, one rung at a time, you can do it.” Except the boy was frozen and wouldn’t budge an inch in either direction.

  Little by little, she managed to coax him down a couple of rungs, but by now, he was sobbing in earnest, and Belle at her wits end. “Come along now, little man. What would your brothers say if they saw you crying so? Buck up now, you’re a brave soldier.”

  By the time they were half-way down, Belle was perspiring and her arms aching under the strain. The boy was still wailing, despite Belle’s best efforts, though now she rather thought it was the idea of the tanning his mother would give him, rather than fear of falling. The noise, however, must have alerted whatever voices she heard drifting in from the lane, and the next thing she knew, a furious voice was bellowing up at her.

  “Belle!”

  Belle was so startled that she missed her footing and her arms were too tired to take her weight. She fell, thankful that it wasn’t far, at least, but instead of hitting the ground, was scooped up by none other than her husband. Having a rather softer landing was appreciated, and she might have been grateful for that fact if it weren’t for the glittering fury in his eyes.

  Rather than face her husband’s obvious wrath, she turned back to the boy to discover Mr Abram plucking the young fellow off with one hand. “Come now, Timmy. Your poor mother has been searching high an’ low for you, ye young varlet.” With a touch to his forelock, the man lifted young Timmy into his arms and hauled him away. Leaving Belle with Edward.

  Who was clearly furious.

  Deciding that a good offensive was far better than a good defensive, Belle glared back at him.

  “What on earth were you thinking, shouting at me like that? I was doing perfectly well before you frightened me half to death!”

  Edward was white faced now, his breathing harsh, and, too late, Belle realised that she had misjudged.

  “Edward,” she said, her tone softer now. “Edward, I’m fine. I was perfectly safe, and you caught me, in any event. No harm done.” She reached for his hand but he snatched it away, backing towards the door. “Edward,” she called, as anxiety kicked up in her chest. “Edward, I’m fine.” Edward turned and left. “Edward!”

  By the time Belle had run outside, Edward was gone, and Belle knew she wouldn’t see him again that day.

  ***

  “He’ll be back soon, Belle. He’s so much better than he was, anyone can see that.” Crecy gave her a sympathetic smile, her grey eyes full of concern. “He just needs to calm himself, you know that. Once he’s settled down, he’ll be back here begging forgiveness.”

  Belle smiled at Crecy and nodded, but her stomach was in knots.

  “Come now,” her sister said, gesturing towards the untouched bowl of soup in front of her. “Eat up. You must keep your strength up.”

  Crecy’s mouth twitched a little as she spoke, and Belle narrowed her eyes at her.

  “What do you mean by that?” she demanded.

  Her beautiful sister pushed an errant curl from her eyes with irritation and smirked. “I’m not stupid, Belle, and I know you better than I do myself. You’ve never had a fondness for peppermint tea, and you’ve always loved roast pork and lamb. Especially the fatty cuts.” Crecy snorted with amusement as Belle swallowed convulsively. “I’m so happy for you,” she added with a broad grin. “I hope it’s a boy,” she added with a wicked glint in her eyes. “I shall teach him to play in the dirt, and tell a badger’s skull from a fox’s, and how to tame a magpie.”

  “Have mercy, Crecy, love,” Belle begged, feeling rather overwhelmed and a little alarmed, as she well knew Crecy meant every word. “And besides,” she added with a sniff. “It’s probably a girl.”

  Crecy pursed her lips. “Actually, that’s even better,” she added after a moments reflection. “I’ll teach her all the same things, and then she’ll be a sight more interesting than all the other simpering débutantes when she’s grown.” Crecy gave a dark chuckle as she looked back at Belle, clearly reading her face with accuracy. “You love me, really,” she taunted, sticking her tongue out at Belle until she gave in and laughed.

  “Does Edward know?” she asked, her voice gentler now.

  Belle shook her head. “I’ve wanted to tell him, but I’m afraid how he’ll take it, and after today ...” She trailed off, knowing she need not elaborate.

  Although Edward’s morbid thoughts were growing fewer and more manageable, more and more of them included Belle and revolved around his fears for her. She’d been anxious enough about his reaction before today, but now she felt she must keep the news to herself for as long as she could.

  “You mustn’t say anything,” she said to Crecy, who looked horrified at the idea.

  “As if I would!”

  Belle sighed and nodded. “Forgive me,” she said, wishing Edward was home. She just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep, knowing that he was safe beside her.

  A knock at the door startled them, more so as Garrett and the other staff usually made a scratching sound, which Edward said was easier on the nerves.

  A moment later, Garrett came through the door, looking uncharacteristically ruffled. “Forgive the intrusion, my lady, but I must beg leave to go and help in the south barn. It’s on fire, and with the wind blowing as it is, it could catch the castle, too, if we don’t act fast.”

  “Oh my word!” Belle exclaimed, setting down her spoon with a clatter.

  “Please, my lady,” Garrett begged, look
ing appalled at having frightened her. “There is no need for concern. I took the liberty of sending to the village for help, we’ll have it under control in no time.”

  “And Lord Winterbourne?” Belle demanded as Crecy rose and crossed around the table to take her hand.

  “We’ve not yet seen his lordship,” Garrett replied, but he was obviously eager to be gone, so Belle sent him on his way with a plea to take care.

  “He’ll be fine, Belle. You know he’ll be hiding out in the woods somewhere like he always does.”

  Belle nodded, agreeing, but couldn’t stop the knot of distress from growing tighter. She wanted Edward here. Now.

  “The south barn is full of hay,” Belle said, her eyes on Crecy. Neither of them said anything. They both knew how fast that could burn if the fire took hold.

  “I can’t sit here imagining,” Belle cried, getting to her feet. Crecy nodded and the two of them hurried to fetch their pelisses before rushing outside.

  They could smell the burning, fierce and hot, long before they reached it, hearing the crackling fire as they turned the corner of the castle to see flames leaping high into the night sky above them.

  “Oh my,” Crecy exclaimed, clutching Belle’s hand.

  Belle was relieved to see a great crowd from the village had gathered to help. As far as she could tell, all the young men from Edward’s boxing club were there, shirt sleeves rolled up as they made a chain from the nearest well. Buckets of water were passed as fast as they could manage, but it seemed an impossible task, as the flames simply leapt higher.

  Searching the crowd, Belle prayed for a glimpse of Edward, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 30

  “Wherein lessons are learned, and our hero awakens.”

  Edward’s rage took him down a familiar path until he found himself staring down into the hole he had dug himself. He gave a grim smile as he realised how apt the words were. He was forever digging himself holes, whether metaphorical or tangible. His anger left him by increments, draining away and leaving him weary and shaken.

  Hauling in a deep breath, he looked up at the branches overhead and their haze of green where buds were showing evidence of the new season. He’d always loved the spring. It always seemed so full of possibilities, fresh starts and new adventures.

  Belle had been right, of course. If he hadn’t shouted, she wouldn’t have fallen at all. Yet he’d been gripped by panic, and her name had been on his lips before his brain had time to catch up. Why in God’s named she hadn’t gone to fetch help instead of climbing that obviously rickety ladder by herself ... His guts clenched, but of course he knew the reason. Belle had to help there and then, because that’s what Belle did. She would never turn her back on anyone in need, least of all a child.

  Edward concentrated on his breathing. Breath in, breath out. She was probably furious with him for being such a damned fool. He frowned and stared at the leaf-strewn floor. She was probably worried sick.

  Picking his cravat up from where it lay discarded in the dirt, he tied it back around his neck in a hasty knot. He realised that it was growing dark already, and felt shaken by how much time had passed. Had he been standing here staring into this bloody hole for hours? He couldn’t remember it. It had only felt like moments ago he’d left the barn with panic clawing at his throat.

  Turning around, Edward headed back out into the pasture that bordered the woods, and decided to go via the lane rather than tramping across the fields in the dimming light. It would be just his luck to put his foot down a rabbit hole and break his blasted ankle. He probably deserved it for being such a fool. Why in heaven’s name Belle bore with him was beyond him.

  Because she loves you.

  The knowledge wrapped around him, warming him against the chill of the evening. He smiled to himself. He was a fool, alright, but he was a lucky one.

  Edward was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn’t hear the shout from the cottage that lay to his left. He looked up as Tommy Green hurried down the path, waving his one remaining arm and grinning at him, teeth glinting white in the twilight.

  “Good evening, Lord Winterbourne.”

  “Tommy,” Edward replied with a smile. “It’s good to see you. How are things?” He reached out to shake Tommy’s hand, grasping it firmly.

  “Better than I dared hope after losing this,” Tommy said, indicating the empty sleeve that was neatly pinned up on his left side. “In fact, I was hoping you might spare a moment to come in and take a drink with us. We’re celebrating, you see.”

  “Oh?” Edward replied, smiling, though he really wanted only to return and tell Belle he was an idiot, though she should know that well enough by now.

  “Yes, my lord,” the young man said, blushing a little. “Well, you see, I had hopes of marrying Sarah Brown before I went off to war, but then ...” He gave an eloquent shrug. “A one-armed man with no job is no good to anyone,” he said, though there wasn’t a trace of self-pity behind the words. “But you changed that, my lord. Finding me that job overseeing the lads putting in that new drainage, well, you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Nonsense,” Edward blustered, feeling uncomfortable with the man’s obvious gratitude. “After your experience in the engineers at the siege of Burgos, it would take an idiot not to put you charge of digging trenches,” Edward said with a wry grin. “So you can stop looking at me like I brought some kind of salvation. You’re over-qualified for the job and well you know it. I’m getting a bargain.”

  “Aye, a bad one,” Tommy laughed, his eyes full of good-natured humour. “But let’s not argue over it. If we’re both of the mind we got a good deal, we should be happy enough to raise a toast. Especially as I’m about to become a married man,” he added with obvious pride.

  Edward beamed at him and shook his hand again, clasping his good arm. “You lucky dog!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t Miss Brown the pretty young lady that works at The Lamb?”

  Tommy nodded, quite unable to wipe the grin from his face. “That’s the one, but not for much longer. It’s a rough crowd they get down there, and my Sarah don’t like it. Now I can afford to keep her, and that’s your doing.”

  Edward snorted, waving his words away. “Let’s not repeat that dance again, eh? You’d best show me in so I can toast your future happiness, then,” he said, regretting the fact that he would be late getting home and putting Belle’s mind at rest, but quite unable to dash the young man’s hopes. He was so obviously eager for Edward to share in his happiness.

  Edward followed him up the narrow path to the cottage, staring at the tatty thatch on the roof.

  “That needs looking at,” he observed, realising with a stab of guilt that he hadn’t attended to his duties to his tenants since he’d returned.

  Tommy shrugged, looking awkward. “I know it. Normally I’d have it done by now, but ...” He trailed off and Edward’s guilt increased.

  “It’s my fault, not yours. You should have told me sooner, though. I’ll get someone over tomorrow to take a look at it.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Tommy said, looking horribly grateful again. Edward cleared his throat.

  “Let’s have that drink, shall we?”

  “Let’s,” Tommy agreed, opening the door. He paused before crossing the threshold. “By the way, Sarah has given me leave to place a bet on you, if you ever decide to fight again. Said the turn up you had with that old bruiser Blackthorn last year was something to behold. Not that she holds with fightin’, mind, but she reckoned there wasn’t a man anywhere to stand against you.”

  Edward ran a hand through his hair and returned a rather chagrined expression. “Well, I thank her kindly, and I’ll bear it in mind,” he said. “Only, do me a favour. Don’t repeat that in front of my wife.”

  “Done.” Tommy chuckled, and Edward smiled as he knew the fellow completely misunderstood why he’d said it. Far from being angry, Belle would likely sell tickets!

  With an amused grin, Edward followed Tommy ind
oors.

  ***

  One drink had inevitably led to three or four, as the good-natured company of Tommy and Sarah’s respective families were unwilling to let him go without showing him the best of local hospitality. So, Edward found himself in a remarkably mellow frame of mind as he made his way home, the lantern Tommy had lent him swinging in his hand.

  It was a fine spring night, chilly, to be sure, but he doubted there would be a frost. The sky was a soft black and lit with stars, a tiny sliver of moon shining, sharp, and crisp as a sabre.

  He was looking forward to making up with Belle. He had never yet known her to hold a grudge against him for his bad behaviour, though sometimes he knew well that she ought to. He would find a way to make up for it. Perhaps he should take her to Bath for a few days. She’d had little chance to socialise and perhaps she missed it, hidden away at Longwold, and he knew she enjoyed the theatre. The idea filled him with horror, but he would go to please her. Though in truth, the thought of it wasn’t so appalling as it had used to be, not when he knew that she would be by his side. In fact, the idea of showing his lovely wife off did hold a certain appeal, as long as it was only a few days.

  With this happy resolution turning in his brain, it took him a few moments to realise he could smell smoke. The acrid smell of burning hay reached his nostrils, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled with alarm. Good God, if he’d told the stupid buggers not to smoke their pipes around the south barn, he’d said it a thousand times.

  Edward quickened his pace, walking as fast as he dared over the uneven ground in the dim light of the lantern.

  His hopes that he’d been wrong were dashed as he turned, and where the silhouette of the south barn ought to be, there was only a blaze of light. He felt a surge of relief at seeing the men toiling to put the blaze out, but the smaller, rather dilapidated barn that stood between it and the castle was already beginning to smoke. The men were throwing endless buckets of water against the side that was closest to the blaze, but the heat was so intense that it forced them back.