“Oh, I wouldn’t like that,” Cecilia said.
“No, I shouldn’t either,” he said.
“Krishan, my husband says they are going to break through the chimney, so I have to get down.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know you are, dear heart. But they are working as fast as they can to get you. Be brave for Miss Rangaswamy.”
He sniffed. “Okay.”
“James, you are going to have to help me,” she called down to her husband.
“I will grab you as I did before. Daniel and Billy will pull the table away, then I can set you down.”
“That would be perfect.”
Once out of the fireplace flue, Cecilia blinked against the bright light and steadied herself as James returned to working on the wall. A long scrape on her forearm stung. She saw how filthy black her arms were, as was her ruined gown. No doubt her face and hair fared worse. She looked across the room. The parlor looked inordinately crowded. Mr. Thornbridge was in attendance, helping the gentlemen with the wall, and Mrs. Montgomery and Lady Syford were seated on the far side of the room, talking quietly to Lady Newcombe, each with a cup of tea in her hands.
Miss Rangaswamy ran up to her and grabbed her hand. “My Krishan, how is my Krishan?”
“I feel he is doing better than most children his age would. He is in pain, but he is trying to be brave for you, Miss Rangaswamy.”
“Pain? How is he in pain?” Her cheeks wet with tears, she pulled against Cecilia to look up in the chimney.
Cecilia pulled her away. “It’s not safe!”
“I don’t care!” Rani exclaimed, struggling against Cecilia’s hold.
“They are knocking a hole in the chimney now. Bricks will hit you. Who will care for Krishan if you are hurt? Listen to me. His neck and back are in an awkward position,” Cecilia explained gently. “He is wedged in the flue with his legs drawn up to his chest, his back curved and his neck bent. I worry about his neck. We should have a doctor see to him right away before he is moved too much.”
“But I must do!” Rani wailed.
“Help Daniel and Billy pick up the debris. It is dangerous for all of us to have the bricks and plaster and wood underfoot.”
Lady Newcombe came up beside Cecilia. “I have sent for my physician, Lady Branstoke. He should be here, soon.”
“Thank you for thinking of that.”
She laughed gently. “It wasn’t me, my dear, it was your devilishly smart husband who made the suggestion.”
Cecilia laughed a little. “He is a bit prescient at times, to an extent that can be unnerving. Thank you, anyway, for following through with your own physician.”
“Yes!”
Cecilia heard Lewis yell triumphantly from the ladder he stood on.
She looked up. The men had a hole about two feet in diameter in Lady Newcombe’s wall above the fireplace. Cecilia bit her lip as she took in the devastation wreaked upon Lady Newcombe’s beautiful parlor.
“Lady Newcombe, I am so sorry. We are destroying your parlor. I will have everything fixed afterward, I promise you.”
“Piffle,” Lady Newcombe said, dismissing the mess and the damage. “This is the most excitement I have had in years. And I shall dine out on this story for years to come!”
“I can see him,” Lewis said, peering up into the hole they’d created. “We are about three feet too low; however, we can get to him.”
“We need to secure a plank across, so he doesn’t fall down the chimney as we work,” James said, from the second ladder set against the wall next to Lewis.
“I got it, guv’nor,” Mr. Peasey said. He handed the canvas rubbish bag he’d been holding to Mr. Thornbridge. “I’ll nip out to da mews to fetch a plank. I knows what to look for.”
