Chapter Seven
It had beensuch a perfectly lovely day. When the duke spoke of his wish to grow closer to his children, she’d almost melted into her half-boots. She smiled as she rested her head on the pillow. His Grace had caught two more fish, but declared William to be the winner, as his catch was bigger. The trout were brought back to Castlebridge and sent to the kitchens to be served to the guests for the fish course.
The children were tired but still chatting about the picnic when she left them with Nanny. Jenny was pleasantly tired too, and spent the hours before bedtime reading her Jane Austen novel, but her mind kept returning to the picnic. His Grace’s laugh, the warmth and thoughtfulness he displayed toward his children. His gentle teasing, which had briefly included her. And more perplexing was the electric touch of his hand holding hers. She bit her lip. It was dangerous to sigh over him, and would only bring misery. She had to concentrate on why she was here, to care for his children.
Her candle snuffed, she pounded her pillow, and drifted off to sleep.
Jenny stood shiveringon the rug in her nightgown. Half asleep, something had drawn her from her bed. Through a gap in the curtains, the sky lightened to a rose-tinted gray. A glance at the clock told her it was almost dawn. She stood for a moment unsure why she’d woken in a panic, and then she smelt it. Smoke drifting in on the breeze. The gardeners burnt off dead leaves in autumn, but would they leave them smoldering overnight?
The nursery wing was directly below hers. As unease gripped her, she told herself the fire might be somewhere in the woods. Perhaps lightning struck a tree. Yesterday, the bad weather had hit after they’d arrived home. And last night there was a storm.
Unable to ignore it, she snatched up her robe and shoved her feet into slippers. On her way down the servants’ stairs, the smell of smoke grew stronger. When she reached the corridor below, a trail of smoke wafted along the ceiling. No one appeared to be awake. Jenny ran to the nursery door and burst inside.
Here the smoke was denser. The curtains were well ablaze, sucked in and out of the wide-open window. Nanny sat in a chair her head nodding on her chest, the children asleep in their beds.
“Nanny!” Jenny yelled. She grabbed a jug of water from a table and ran to the window. Coughing, she doused the flames as best she could then pulled the curtains down to the floor and stamped out the remaining embers. The smoke dispersed as cold fresh morning air rushed in through the window.
Nanny Evans sat up drowsily, her cap falling over one eye, and her long braid of grey hair sitting on her shoulder. “What are you doing, Miss Harrismith? What has happened?”
“Did you leave a candle burning, Nanny?” Jenny asked, checking the sleeping Barbara. William was stirring.
“No, indeed I did not,” Nanny said, sounding cross. “And why would I leave the candle over there? It’s always placed here beside me.”
William rubbed his eyes. “Is it morning?” He coughed. “What is that smell?”
“Not quite yet, William. The curtains were on fire. But it’s been put out now.”
William was not one to take anyone’s word for something unless he saw it for himself. He left his bed and walked over to the blackened, smoldering curtains. “Was it lightening?”
“The wind blew the curtain onto a candle,” Jenny explained.
“Well, it wasn’t my fault.” Nanny climbed unsteadily to her feet. “You won’t tell the housekeeper it was, will you, Miss Harrismith?”
“Of course I won’t.” Jenny patted the elderly lady’s shoulder. “All over now. A bit of a storm in a teacup, really.”But it had not been.Flames had singed the edge of the rug. If that had taken hold, it would have burned toward William’s bed. She didn’t dare allow the thought to continue to its conclusion.
“I can’t go back to sleep now,” William grumbled.
“No, but keep warm in your bed. The servants will be awake. I’ll send up chocolate and muffins,” Jenny said. “I must go down and speak to Mrs. Pollitt.” She didn’t want to leave him, she wasn’t sure why.
“What should I do, Miss Harrismith?” Nanny asked. She shivered and appeared exhausted. “I daren’t go to my room at night. I fear I might not hear the children.”
“Please, Nanny, do go to bed or you’ll catch a chill. I shan’t be long.”
Relieved, Jenny saw Nanny go uncomplainingly into the adjoining room and climb into bed. A moment later, she was asleep again.
“Nanny snores,” William said. “She keeps me awake.”
“Shush. I doubt a herd of elephants in the garden would keep you awake,” Jenny said.
He chuckled.
Jenny hurried up to her room to dress. First the gunshot and now this. She wondered what her father would make of it. He didn’t believe in coincidence. Only in literature. He would always quote Shakespeare’sOthelloto underline his point. The candle had barely burned down. Surely, after burning all night it would be no bigger than a stub? She shivered and rubbed her arms.
Jenny’s anger grew as she went downstairs. Poor Nanny was too frightened to leave the children at night because she’d become a little deaf. Her heart ached for her.
It had grown light when she entered the servants’ quarters. A few of the staff were seated at the long table eating breakfast. In the kitchen, two maids and Cook bustled about in the pantries and worked at a large scrubbed table. A roast turned on the spit beneath the vast chimney.
In her room, Mrs. Pollitt, with her scraped back hair and thin lips appeared her most unwelcoming self when Jenny entered. But she paled and rose quickly from her chair after Jenny explained what had happened. “How fortunate that you discovered it, Miss Harrismith. I shall inform the butler and send the maids to clear away the mess.”
