While the storms had precluded any work being done on the exterior of the Dower House, the workmen had been scheduled to continue work on the interior and Lady Diana and Elizabeth were eager to see the progress.
“If there has been any progress,” Lady Diana said gloomily. “The roads have been atrocious and the only time we were at the house since this awful weather started the foreman indicated that he might send everyone home until the weather cleared.” She sighed. “He said that the paint and plaster was not drying and that the wall hangings were slipping because of the dampness in the air.” She sighed again. “And that the chimneys were blowing smoke into some of the newly redone rooms—something that must be repaired when the weather breaks.” She put down her cup of tea. “Sometimes I wonder if my house will ever be habitable. It seems that there has just been one delay after another.”
Lady Diana’s complaints were valid, Julian thought with a frown. Besides the weather, which no one had any control over, there had been several vexing delays. He had not paid a great deal of attention to Lady Diana’s grievances and, as he remembered, they’d been little things. There’d been some missing fabric, he recalled, and a carpet? A word with the head carpenter would not come amiss, he decided as they rose from the table.
They all exited the room together and walked to the front of the house, where a small trap drawn by a stout pony was waiting for Lady Diana and Elizabeth, and soon the women were happily driving to the Dower House. Having declined Lady Diana’s offer to join them, Nell waved them on their way.
No less eager than Lady Diana and Elizabeth were to escape the confines of the house, Julian and Marcus stood by Nell as their horses were led up from the stables. Their plans included a visit to Squire Chadbourne and the hope that the squire could be maneuvered into showing them the dungeons beneath Chadbourne House.
Turning to say good-bye to his wife, Julian frowned. “I do not like leaving you here alone.”
“I will not be alone,” Nell said. “How could I be with a house full of servants? Besides, you’d be horrified if I demanded to go with you.”
The guilty expression that crossed his face made her smile, but it was the appalled look on Marcus’s face that had her bursting into laughter. “Go away,” she said to the pair of them. “Do not worry about me, I will find something to amuse myself. In fact, I am looking forward to a pleasant day alone.”
Nell wasn’t pretending. Despite the soggy ground she did want to walk around the gardens and perhaps down to the stables. After two weeks of being housebound, she was eager to stretch her legs and be out and about in the sunshine.
Left to her own devices, Nell did as she planned, wearing a fur-trimmed pelisse to keep out the cold and a charming bonnet on her head, she strolled about the gardens, avoiding those pathways that seemed too muddy. It was wonderful to be outside, she thought, as she lifted her face to the sun’s rays and took a deep breath of the clean, country air. She patted her abdomen, pleased that there was an increasing bulge where her child grew. Except for the horrors associated with the Shadow Man and the specter of Julian’s first wife, Nell was happy. She did miss her family, her father in particular, but Wyndham Manor and its ways and people were feeling more and more like home to her. She adored her husband; he was a good, generous man and just the mere sight of him made her blood race and her heart lift. And there was the birth of their child in the summer to anticipate.
She had, she realized, much to be grateful for. Picturing the expression on Lord Tynedale’s face if she was to thank him for kidnapping her, she nearly laughed aloud. Without his interference, she thought, I’d never have known Julian, never married him and never fallen in love with him. But then she remembered Catherine and the fresh bouquet of roses or lilies carefully arranged every morning beneath the portrait in the gallery and her spirits plummeted.
You could stop torturing yourself by checking whether Julian was still ordering those bloody flowers, you know, she told herself sternly. You do yourself no good and only hurt yourself every time you prowl the gallery and see the new bouquets.
She’d tried to break the habit of going to the gallery, but just as Julian seemed unable to break his tradition, so did she hers.
Miserably, she walked back to the house, her enjoyment in the day and gardens ruined. I should have gone to the Dower House with Lady Diana, she thought bitterly. Her eyes turned in that direction and her breath caught at the sight of a huge, billowing cloud of black smoke rising in the air above the trees.
It took a second for her to understand what she was seeing, but then she did, and a thrill of horror went through her. The Dower House was on fire.
Chapter 17
Picking up her skirts, Nell ran back to the manor, her heart slamming hard against her ribs. What had happened? She glanced again in the direction of the Dower House, hoping that her eyes had deceived her. They had not. If anything the cloud was blacker, larger, more terrifying.
As she neared the front door, she heard the babble of the servants, the sounds of people running and calling out and realized that they too had seen the ominous cloud of smoke rising in the air and were sounding the alarm. Already there was the clatter of vehicles and horses as every able man and woman sped away to fight the fire at the Dower House.
Nell joined in the rush, only to be brought up short by someone calling her name. “Your ladyship! Your ladyship! Wait—I have brought a horse for you.”
She whirled around and there was Hodges astride a dancing chestnut and holding the reins to her favorite black mare. She flashed him a grateful smile and heedless of modesty or position, she easily vaulted into the saddle. Neck and neck, swerving to avoid those on foot and slower vehicles, she and Hodges careened down the road, mud flying from their horses’ hooves.
Reaching the rear of the Dower House where the fire raged, Nell discovered a scene of ordered chaos. Horses and wagons and carts were parked willy-nilly along a line of trees at the side of the house. Lady Diana, her dark hair mussed and wild, a black smudge on one cheek and the hem of her gown stained and torn, was organizing the newest arrivals. Now and then Lady Diana risked a horrified glance at the leaping flames coming from the rear of the house before seeming to gather herself once more and attend to the matter at hand. Elizabeth, looking as if she’d fought with a flaming coal bucket and lost—if her sooty face and scorched gown were anything to go by—was beating the flames with a wet rug as she and several others tried to keep the fire from spreading. Buckets and pails soon appeared; a straggling line of volunteers was formed and using the well at the back of the house, pail after pail of water was thrown onto the raging fire.
Nell joined in the fray, taking her place in the middle of the water brigade, eagerly accepting the sloshing pail of water passed to her and turning to pass it on to the next person. They worked tirelessly, the only thing that mattered being that next bucket of water that was swiftly hoisted from the well and passed on to the next pair of willing hands.
The unrelenting rain of the last few weeks was a godsend. The roof, the walls, the ground itself and the exterior were still soaked and that slowed the fire’s reach and gave them all hope that it could be stopped before engulfing the entire house.
A second line was formed as more volunteers arrived. The fight continued unrelentingly and Nell’s shoulders and arms were screaming for relief as she reached for what seemed like the hundredth bucket, but before her fingers touched the handle, a pair of masculine hands closed around her waist and lifted her bodily from the line.
Astonished she stared up into Charles Weston’s face. “Charles!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
He flashed a grim smile. “Saving my cousin’s heir and taking your place in the line. Go join my stepmother and Lady Diana on the sidelines. Raoul and I shall add our bit to the fight.”
Looking around, Nell noticed that Raoul, having apparently dispatched Elizabeth the same way Charles had her, had joined the other line of the water brigade. Mrs. Westo
n, garbed in a dark blue riding habit, was standing next to Lady Diana and Elizabeth was trudging over to where they stood staring at the fire.
Nell protested, but Charles gave her a warning look and said: “Now we can stand here arguing, an argument you shall lose, or you can let me go to work. Which shall it be, my lady?”
Nell knew when she was beaten—Charles was quite capable of picking her up and carrying her away from the line if need be. “Very well,” she said. “I shall join Lady Diana and the others.”
Reluctance in every step, Nell walked over to join the other ladies. Lady Diana embraced her. “Oh, Nell, it was so brave of you to help fight the fire.” She turned a proud maternal smile on Elizabeth. “And you, Elizabeth, my darling, you were splendid.”
Elizabeth smiled wanly. “I just hope that the house can be saved.”
“With my son and stepson adding their might to fight the fire, you have nothing to fear now,” said Sofia Weston with irritating assurance. “They will stop the fire.”
None of the other three ladies made any reply, but Elizabeth and Nell exchanged glances. Under her breath Nell muttered, “And I suppose our efforts were meaningless.”
Elizabeth choked back a laugh and looked away.
Sofia studied Nell for a moment, and Nell wondered if she had overheard her comment to Elizabeth.
“It is a good thing that my stepson and I decided to come to call this morning,” Sofia said after an awkward moment.
“Yes, it was,” Nell said meekly. “We are grateful for their help.”
It was feared that the fire would spread internally and gut the house, but as the time passed, and more people arrived and a third and fourth line were formed, the battle to save the Dower House was won, bucket by bucket, pail by pail. Though there was still an appalling cloud of smoke billowing skyward, the yellow and red flames subsided.
Water continued to be thrown on the remains of the fire, but eventually there was no longer any obvious sign of flames. Smoke lingered heavily in the air and a hiss and a sizzling snap greeted each new bucket of water.
The small wing at the rear of the Dower House that had consisted of the kitchen, scullery, pantry, larder and coal yard was a total loss, but the main structure, connected to the kitchen by a covered walkway, had been spared. There was much comment on how lucky it had been that the coal yard had been almost empty at the time, else the fire in that area would have burned so hot that there would not have been any stopping it.
The fight won, amid much backslapping and self-congratulations, most of the servants gradually drifted away, back to their usual chores. While the Westons remained off to the side, Nell, Lady Diana and Elizabeth stood in a bedraggled reception line in front of the house thanking each person as they left the scene of the fire.
Having a private word with Dibble, Nell said, “Everyone was magnificent! Will you see to it that all are given an extra half day off within the week?”
Despite a streak of soot smearing his cheek and his usual immaculate livery stained and smelling of smoke, Dibble rose nobly to the occasion. Bowing regally, he said, “It shall be done, my lady.”
When the last of the volunteers had departed, the three ladies walked to the back of the house to survey the damage. The Westons joined them. The foreman, the head carpenter and several of the men who had been working inside of the house when the fire started continued to monitor the smoky skeleton that had once been the kitchen area.
“How did it start?” Nell asked as she walked beside Lady Diana.
Her face wearing an expression of complete dejection, Lady Diana shrugged. “I don’t really know. Elizabeth and I were going over some newly arrived samples of fabric from London when we smelled something burning. A few moments later we actually saw wisps of smoke curling around the edges of the doorway. We immediately fled out of the room where we met the foreman and some others running from the back of the house. They yelled at us to leave, that the house was on fire.”
“Everything happened so fast,” Elizabeth said, “that there was no time to ask any questions. We just ran. It wasn’t until we got outside that we saw the flames and realized how dangerous the situation was.” She shuddered. “Thank goodness we were able to stop it before the whole house was consumed.”
A tear dripped down Lady Diana’s cheek. “It is all ruined. Everything. All my beautiful rooms. I shall never be able to live here.”
“Oh, now don’t be hasty,” Nell said, slipping an arm around Lady Diana’s waist. “This is indeed a horrid setback, but just think—you will have a whole new kitchen wing.”
Lady Diana looked at her. “I never go into the kitchen,” she said in a small voice.
“Ah, but stop and think,” Charles said as he walked up to join them, “with a new kitchen in which to work, your servants shall serve you meals whose praises will be sung by everyone fortunate enough to dine at your table.”
When Charles’s comment aroused nothing more than a heavy sigh in Lady Diana, Nell said bracingly, “I know it is a huge disappointment but you know there were some things that you’d had second thoughts about, now you will have a chance to do them over.”
Lady Diana regarded her with big brown eyes swimming in tears. “But the cost will be astronomical. And you know that we purchased the last bolt of cream silk with the pink rosebuds—it cannot be replaced.” She choked back a sob. “Julian will be so angry. He is likely to banish Elizabeth and me from Wyndham Manor. Whatever shall we do? We will be homeless on the streets.”
“Oh, good God!” Charles burst out. “Spare me these theatrics.”
Nell sent him a speaking look and he shrugged. Followed by Raoul, he walked over to speak with the foreman. Turning to Lady Diana, Nell regarded her fondly. In the midst of the crisis, Lady Diana had been superb, organizing everyone with the skill of a great general planning a crucial battle, but now that the danger was past…Nell sighed. She supposed that her stepmama-in-law could not help being a pea-goose. She smiled. A very practical pea-goose, though.
Giving her a hug, Nell said, “You know very well that Julian will not toss you homeless onto the streets—besides, I would not let him if he were so shatterbrained to even consider such a thing. As for the cost—fiddle! I’m sure that he can stand the nonsense, and be happy to do so. His only concern will be that you and Elizabeth were unharmed.” When Lady Diana still looked unconvinced, Nell added, “The fire was not of your making—it was an accident. Julian will not hold you accountable.” Her jaw hardened and she glanced over to where Charles and Raoul were talking to the foreman. “He will be asking some hard questions of the workmen, though, of that you can be assured.”
“Yes, of that I am sure,” said Sofia Weston. “My nephew does not suffer fools gladly. I would not like to be in the shoes of those workmen.”
Eventually, Nell, Lady Diana and Elizabeth, accompanied by the Westons, arrived back at Wyndham Manor. Excusing themselves to wash and change out of their sooty and stained gowns, the three ladies of the house disappeared up the stairs, leaving Dibble to serve refreshments to the Westons in the front drawing room.
Returning downstairs once more, Nell joined her guests. Lady Diana sent word that she was too fatigued to join the guests and begged their forgiveness. Elizabeth elected to stay with her mother. Everyone understood the situation.
Handing Nell a cup of tea, Charles said, “After this morning’s event, you must be wishing us at Jericho.”
She smiled at him. “No. No. I am just so grateful that you arrived when you did.” An impish gleam leaped to her eye. “I was becoming tired.”
He laughed. “And I’ll wager that it cost you to admit that to me.”
“But why should it?” demanded Sofia Weston. Her upper lip curled. “It must not have been pleasant working in the midst of one’s servants.”
With an effort Nell kept her smile in place. “It was most fortunate that you happened along,” she said, taking a sip of her tea.
“Yes,” replied Charles dryly.
He glanced across at his brother. “And that Raoul decided to leave Lord Tynedale to his own devices and join us.”
Raoul flushed. “He is our guest and our friend.”
“But that doesn’t mean that you have to dance attendance on him,” Charles said.
Raoul looked as if he would have liked to continue the argument, but he said nothing. The look he shot his brother, however, was not fond.
“With the weather so fine, we had hoped to invite you to join us in a ride,” Charles said. “Since that is out of the question, we shall be on our way.” He glanced down at his own soot-stained clothing. “I, for one, am not fit to be seen in polite company.”
Nell did not encourage them to stay but she did walk with them to the front of the house. Once Mrs. Weston had been settled on her horse, Charles and Raoul mounted their horses and the trio trotted away.
Arriving home late that afternoon from a fruitless quest, Julian was shocked at the news of the fire. His first concern was for his wife and it took all of Nell’s persuasive powers to convince him that she and the baby were unharmed and that tearing the foreman from limb to limb would accomplish little. His main fears allayed, Julian didn’t bat an eyelash at the information that Nell had promised Lady Diana a lavish budget to prepare the Dower House for her installation—including a new and enlarged kitchen wing. Having heard a concise report from Nell concerning the situation, he was quite able to endure Lady Diana’s tears and to assure her that he had no intention of flinging her out of the house. Seeing that the ladies were unharmed, while there was still daylight, he and Marcus set out for the Dower House to examine the damage themselves…and, as Nell had suspected, to have a word with the workmen.
Scandal Becomes Her Page 27