He had been about to tell her how he really felt and then they had discovered the fire. It reminded him how fleeting these moments with her were, how they could be gone in an instant again. He would take this moment now, even if it was a very fleeting one indeed.
He leaned into her, just enough so that he could whisper in her ear.
“I’m in love with you, Phoebe.”
As he leaned back, he watched as her lips parted in wonder, then she smiled, the kind of smile he had never seen on her face before. It spread a warmth inside him. Yet he backed up away from her and let her hand slip from his.
“No, Francis, where are you going?” she called to him.
“To fight the fire,” he said, turning and running back into the house. It didn’t matter to him that he had been lately injured, or that there was a risk involved. He would not let his staff take the risk of putting the flames out without being there beside them to help.
Francis ignored the shouted pleas that were calling him back out again. He was sure he could hear Diana’s voice amongst those shouts, and Josiah’s too, though Josiah seemed to give up calling for him quite quickly. Instead, he started calling for that stable boy to be sent to the physician again, insisting that he had to be on his way at once.
As Francis reached the chamber, he worked tirelessly with his men, all the staff and footmen that had come to his aid were carrying vats of water and trying their best to get the fire down. It took what felt like hours, with them even once having to throw the contents of a copper bath onto the flames. When the final flame was put out with thick heavy blankets, windows were thrust open.
Francis was among the men as they all coughed and tried their best to clear their lungs. After a few minutes of kicking away the burnt debris in the chamber and breathing beside the open window to clear his lungs, Francis looked back into the room at the mess that had ensued.
Whoever set the fire had used the curtains around the four-poster bed to start it. With such material to fuel the flames, no wonder it had taken hold so quickly. The question was…who had started it?
As Francis took a step away, about to leave and head back down to see his family and Phoebe, something caught his eye. There was something on the wall beyond the four-poster bed, something painted there.
Slowly, with wary steps, Francis walked round the bed, tilting his head to see what had been left there for him to find. There were words painted in black on the white wall. They had been covered before by the carcass of the black and burnt-out bed, but they were now clear as day to see.
As Francis read the words, he felt that old dizziness return from his head wound. He recovered one of the few unburnt chairs from the chamber and sat down into it, flinging his body down in order to stay centered.
The words were thickly painted in this black ink, suggesting it had been taken from a broken inkwell bottle from nearby and painted on with something. Francis looked around, finding a pillowcase he at first had thought was burnt black discarded on the floor in the corner, but turned out to be covered in paint. He returned his gaze to the words on the wall in anger.
“It was him, after all. He’s been here. He knows she’s here,” he muttered to himself, along with a myriad of curses and exclamations.
‘You have been warned. Send her back.’
Chapter 26
The physician was still attending to Louisa and Mrs Goodman was talking to Constable Jenkins when Francis took Josiah’s arm and led him away from the group, a little distance from the house and further down the pebbled driveway.
“It was the Viscount. He started the fire and must have hit Louisa, afraid he would be discovered,” he said in a whisper.
“You are certain?” Josiah asked, glancing back to where Phoebe and Diana were sat close by Louisa’s side, listening to the physician.
“He left a message painted on the chamber wall. He said it was a warning and demanded I send Phoebe back to him.” Francis practically spat with the words for he was so angry. Josiah flinched as though Francis had struck him and began to run his hands frantically through his hair.
“We cannot stay here,” Josiah said, his manner becoming deadly serious.
“Agreed. We must get everyone out of here. Where do we go?”
“My country estate in Devon is two days’ ride. We should go there,” Josiah said with a firm nod. “There’s a coaching inn we always stay at on the way. We can stay there tonight.”
“That sounds for the best,” Francis agreed, looking back to the house. The fire was out, but who knew when the Viscount could come back for Phoebe now. “There is one thing I do not understand. Why not just come and take Phoebe? Why leave behind a warning?”
Josiah gripped his hair a few more times, pacing back and forth before he spun back to Francis, his eyes widening with a kind of realization.
“Oh, we’re fools.”
“What do you mean?” Francis asked, feeling that same anger still burning in his stomach.
“I mean you are a duke, Francis,” Josiah said, gesturing to him. “Say that Viscount Ridlington was able to figure out where Diana and I went, for he obviously has done. The first thing he would do is figure out whose house this is. A duke’s no less!”
“Could you hurry up and get to the point, please, my temper is running rather short at this moment,” Francis said in a harried whisper, aware the Phoebe was looking over to them with concern and he didn’t want to scare her any further.
