The young man swallowed. “Her Grace and Peter, the other footman. Francine, Her Grace’s lady’s maid and the butler. The cook is out at the market with the kitchen maid and everyone else was sent back to the country house yesterday.”
Christopher nodded. “Not many others then, that is good. Go and alert Her Grace and the others. Ensure they get out quickly.”
The young man ran up the stairs, a worried eye on the dining room where Thornmouth was now trying to extinguish the flamed by beating on the tapestry with his tailcoat. To no avail.
“Your Grace! You must leave with the rest of us. The fire brigade will be here soon,” Rowena called out. He glanced at her for one moment but the expression on his face told her that he would not do what she’d requested. The opposite in fact. He looked like a mad man.
“Rowena, leave him be. We must save who we can.” He was looking down at Williams, who was now sitting up and groaning but did not appear in a condition to walk. “We must drag him out,” Christopher nodded at the guard.
“Very well,” Rowena squatted down and with Sabrine and Christopher’s help, raised the giant of a man to his feet. Together, they made their way outside, breathing in the clear afternoon air. A large group of people had already congregated outside, watching the flames that were spilling out of the window.
Several rushed up to them and helped them place Williams on the ground, certainly assuming his injuries were results of the fire.
Rowena turned and to her great relief, she saw the Duchess being assisted out of the house by her lady’s maid, the footman, and her butler. The group congregated nearby and the Duchess looked over to other, distress across her face.
“Where is my son?” Desperation and panic were rife in her voice.
Rowena shook her head and pointed at the house. “He has not joined us yet. He–”
“Isaac!” his mother began to wail and attempted to make her way back into the house. She was held back, gently and first and then firmer, by her servants.
“Thornmouth cannot possibly believe he can save the house all by himself, can he?” Rowena said as she watched the flames spill into the next room.
Christopher shook his head. “He seems to believe so.” Then, to her shock, he took off his tailcoat and handed it to her.
“What are you doing?” she exclaimed in alarm.
“Going back in there and saving His Grace from himself,” he muttered. Rowena’s heart dropped and she clasped onto his arm.
“No! Please, do not go back inside.”
Christopher cupped her face and planted a quick, hard kiss on her lips.
“I must. I will never forgive myself if he dies in there. I must at least try. I will be back in just a moment. I promise you. I love you.”
She held on to him for a moment longer, looking deep into his eyes. When she saw his determination, she let go and kissed his cheek. “I love you. Come back to me, quickly.”
He turned away from her and rushed into the house, leaving her to stand on the road outside, with nobody to support her but Sabrine.
* * *
The fire brigade arrived a short time after Christopher had disappeared into the building. They stopped on the street and searched the building for a fire mark. Finding it and confirm it to be under their jurisdiction, the firemen began to unroll the hose and operate the pump.
Rowena rushed over to them. “My…” she hesitated and then went on “The Duke of Westmond is inside. He’s gone in to bring out the owner.”
The man looked at her alarmed.
“People are inside the building still?”
She nodded. “Yes, as I said, the Duke of Westmond and the Duke of Thornmouth. Everyone else made it out.”
The news that two Peers of the Realm were in the burning building did speed up the operation somewhat, however, nobody appeared eager to run inside the fire to search for them. Instead, a hose was being placed as close to the window as possible, blasting water into the dining room.
Rowena stared at the building where the flames were now shooting out of two windows. Suddenly, a third shattered with a loud bang, causing the spectators to gasp and turn away. Beside her, Sabrine took a hold of her arm and shielded her from the bursting window. Fortunately, none of the shards came near them, however, the influx of oxygen stoked the blaze further.
“He is not coming out,” she suddenly found herself saying. Tears sprang into her eyes. “He has been in there for far too long. They both have.” She glanced over at the Duchess and the old woman’s expression confirmed just what Rowena had been thinking herself. Both men were lost. They had to be.
How shall I carry on if Christopher does not come out alive? How?
