“You did what you were supposed to do, you got the men and the horses out. Like the gatehouse, the stable building can be rebuilt.”
The stablemaster excused himself and went back to work. Even though the stable was hopelessly lost, the fire still had to be contained, lest it spread to other buildings or the main house. Men were arrayed between the stable and the carriage house, beating out any ember which reached the second building. Marco stood there watching as the fire burned hotter at first, and then lower and lower as it lost fuel. The fire in the gatehouse, like this fire, had taken no lives. In fact, Marco pondered, both had seemed designed to warn others of danger. At least the dastardly fellow responsible for this mess did not seem to be actively trying to kill anyone. There was some comfort in thatthought, despite the losses Ashewood had suffered since Marco’s return. After some time, the stablemaster came back to Marco, accompanied by the head groom. Marco spoke first, before either of them had the chance, blurting out the thought which burned in the back of his mind.
“We must stop these incidents before someone, or some creature, dies.”
“Aye, my Lord. I brought Gregory, here, over with an idea.”
The stablemaster waved his arm in the head groom’s direction. Gregory looked down at his feet, still as shy as he had been since he was first hired.
“Speak up man.”
Marco’s voice shook with exhaustion.
“Well, my Lord, I feel that whoever is doing this does not mean to harm anyone.”
Gregory wrung his hands and there was a slight catch in his voice. He seemed so young to Marco in that moment, yet he had noticed the same thing that Marco had.
“Go on please,” Marco urged him, trying his best to sound reassuring.
“Well, as I said my Lord, they don’t seem to mean to hurt any living thing, so maybe they are setting things up before they escalate further – maybe this is all just their idea of a warning, or there could be more than one threat. Seems to me that we should put our own watches on possible targets. If we have eyes everywhere, we might notice that someone who isn’t supposed to be there is poking around.”
“My Lord,” the stablemaster spoke up, “I feel, with all that has been going on, that the villagers would be more than happy to lend a hand to catch this fiend or fiends.”
“I agree.” Marco nodded. “Keep this only to those you trust implicitly. We don’t know who is doing this.”
“You think one of our own could be doing this my Lord?”
The stablemaster’s mouth fell open in a shocked ‘O’.
“I hope not, but we cannot afford to let this go until someone is killed. This must stop.”
Both men nodded in agreement, their heads bobbing vehemently, and turned back to look at the fire. It was lower now, and less bright, but still the heat from it was strong. Marco looked into the flames and vowed that this would be the last building that would burn. They were replaceable, true, but each one came closer to being a death blow to his future and the future of Ashewood.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THISTEWAYTE HALL
There wasa sharp knock on the library door a moment before the Calthorpe family’s butler, Upton, entered and announced, to the apparently empty room.
“Lady Eugenia? Lady Seabury is visiting Thistlewayte Hall and wishes to see you. Shall I show her in?”
Eugenia looked up from the book she had been trying to read while reclining on the couch. Once again, it was Shakespeare, though she found herself in no humour for his comedies of late. She had instead gravitated to the tragedies. Truth be told, however, she had been falling asleep again, often dozing during the day after waking from sleepwalking in strange places, though the garden’s hedge maze was where she awakened most often. Her mother had set the maids to try to watch her during the night, but they often fell asleep, and it was as if Eugenia, even in her own sleep, knew it, and promptly sleepwalked.
“Of course.”
Eugenia cleared her throat, forcing both a smile and pleasant, cheerful tone of voice. She was about to tell Upton to give her a moment, but he was gone before she could form the thought to tell him out loud. She felt as if she had weights upon all her limbs as she set her book on the table beside her, pulled the blanket she had on her lap back and moved to stand. When Susan came into the library, Eugenia was still rising, and had to squeeze her eyes shut a moment as the room spun.
She tried to straighten up as Susan swept across the room to her and kissed both her cheeks, but she could not hide the manner in which she fell, just a little too indelicately, back onto the couch, nor could she hide the yawn which came from her as she struggled to pull herself back from the edge of sleep to face the day before her. She wished that she could live in the land of sleep right now, where — at least sometimes — her dreams were beautiful and kind and not filled with all the horrid memories of her humiliation at Lady Duncan’s Ball. Sometimes, she dreamed of Lord D’Asti, as well, and her chest ached at the thought of it. Before she could be pulled deeper into her wistfulness, Susan drew her back to reality.
“I cannot begin to tell you how delighted I am to see you.” Susan seated herself on the couch beside Eugenia. “Neville and I arrived back from our wedding trip a few days ago and I just had to come to visit you.”
“I rather suspect that Georgiana’s recent visit to Thistlewayte Hall has more to do with your appearance here than you simply desiring to see me the moment that you arrived home from your wedding trip, even if we are the best of friends.” Eugenia blurted her suspicion aloud before she could think to stop herself, then immediately gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. It was exactly thathabit of blurting things out without considering the potential consequences that had ruined her reputation so neatly. “I’m terribly sorry. Mama always chastises me for not thinking before I speak. I meant no offense, I promise. Can you ever forgive me?”
Susan laughed softly and nodded, before leaning over to rest her head on Eugenia’s shoulder.
“Personally, I’ve always liked that about you, though I understand how it could be unfortunate under the wrong circumstances. But that is not why I’m here, at least not entirely.”
“Is that so?”
