‘Do you think he’s aware that his house is actually on fire?’ queried Max, frowning at the flames beginning to lick through the lower rear windows.
‘Well, if he doesn’t, he’s about to find out,’ muttered Nicholas. He was silent for a second. ‘We’ll work our way round to the front of the house,’ he decided at length. ‘If our luck holds, Bamford will still be inside, and we can borrow his conveyance while he’s otherwise engaged.’
They crept back towards the front of the house, finally turning the corner where Bamford’s coach and four still waited. A few minutes later, they reached the carriage, and glancing up at the silent windows, the Duke carefully opened the door facing away from the building. There was still no sign of the fire that had taken hold of the back of the house, and they could only hope Bamford remained blissfully unaware.
As quietly as possible, Adam began ushering the women into the coach. ‘Can any of you drive this thing?’ he asked without much hope.
‘Me dad was a cabby,’ answered Lolly nonchalantly. ‘I know what to do.’ She swung up onto the driver’s box and grinned down at the Earl’s obvious astonishment.
‘Your turn, Patience,’ commented Adam. His sister-in-law shook her head stubbornly. ‘Lady Edith – Felicity’s cousin is still in there,’ she said. ‘We can’t leave her.’
Nicholas frowned. ‘How do you know?’ he quizzed. ‘Have you seen her?’
‘She’s in there,’ called Lolly from the driver’s box. ‘This whole bloody setup was to keep her ladyship away from prying eyes.’ She laughed mirthlessly. ‘The rest of us were just added entertainment.’
The Duke sighed and gritted his teeth. Stepping towards the carriage, he lit coach's lanterns and instructed Lolly to keep going until they reached Bath and gave her the address of their Bath residence. ‘Inform the butler that the Duke of Blackmore has sent you,’ he finished before stepping back. Lolly simply nodded, and seconds later the coach was clattering back towards the entrance.
‘I doubt his lordship will miss the sound of his transport disappearing down the deuced drive,’ observed Max drily. ‘I think we’re on the clock gentlemen.’
A sudden loud explosion caught them all by surprise giving emphasis to the Marquess’s statement. Flames began leaping from a large hole in the roof.
‘We’ve run out of time,’ growled Adam. ‘If we don’t get Bamford’s wife out now, she’ll surely burn to death.’
Another explosion rent the air, and Adam, Nicholas, Max and Malcolm ran towards the steps.
Just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door was flung open, revealing the portly figure of the Earl of Bamford, his outline hideously distorted in the orange flames. ‘Shame,’ muttered the Scotsman.
‘Stay where you are,’ shouted Bamford brandishing a pistol wildly.
‘How are we going to get past him?’ murmured Adam.
‘Where’s your wife Bamford?’ Max shouted. ‘I swear to God, if you allow her to die, I’ll make sure the whole world knows just what a bastard you are.’
‘You,’ Bamford spat, lifting his pistol and pointing it directly at the Marquess.
‘Don’t be an ass, Bamford,’ Nicholas shouted coldly. ‘You are in enough trouble. Don’t add murder to your crimes.’
‘What’s one more?’ came a feminine voice from inside the open doorway. Before the Earl had a chance to react, a figure appeared through the smoke and shoved Bamford hard, propelling him down the steep steps. With a scream, the small man fell headfirst, his momentum increasing until he lay in a heap at the bottom.
‘Is he dead?’ asked Malcolm hopefully.
Nicholas crouched down and turned the body over. ‘Still breathing,’ he declared flatly.
As one, they looked up at the slight figure now making her way down the stairs. As she reached the bottom, the Countess of Bamford stared down at the still figure of her husband.
‘He still lives my lady,’ commented Nicholas. ‘What would you have us do?’
‘Can you save him?’ she asked evenly. The Duke glanced over at Malcolm. ‘Perhaps,’ he murmured.
‘Then I ask you to do your best,’ Lady Bamford responded. ‘I do not wish to have his blood on my hands if at all possible.’
Malcolm nodded. ‘We’ll have to get him back to Bath,’ he advised. D’ye have any other forms of transport here?’
‘There is an old phaeton in the stables,’ she answered, but no horses.
‘I’ll ride Merlin for help,’ offered Adam.
‘I ken he’ll be dead afore you get back,’ observed Malcolm. I’ll have to treat him here. You say there are stables my lady?’ The Countess nodded.
