“You must climb down very carefully. Take your time and be sure of each move. When you reach the ground, run to the back door and pound hard. If no one answers, run to the stable and wake the groomsmen sleeping upstairs. Tell them they must wake the rest of the family before they fight the fire. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” His voice came out a choked whisper, and he threw his arms around her neck.
She hugged him tight. “You are a brave boy, Andrew. I know you can do this.” She held him a second more, then kissed the top of his head. Millie’s chin trembled as she watched Andrew crawl across the window seat, grab the sheet, and lower himself out the window.
Julia held on tightly to the sheet, wanting to send her strength to Andrew as he climbed down. Her eyes burned and her throat tightened. Oh, Father, please keep him safe and bring help soon.
Someone grabbed his shoulder. “Sir, sir! You must wake up.”
William blinked, trying to clear the heavy fog of sleep from his head. “What is it?”
Lawrence leaned toward him, his face flushed and his eyes wide. “There’s a fire in the east wing!”
Alarm shot through William. “The children!” He threw back the blankets and jumped from his bed.
“Master Andrew is safe. He climbed down from the window and ran to wake us.”
“He climbed down? Good heavens, how did he do that?” William pulled on a pair of pants.
“I’m not sure, sir.”
“What about Millie, Sarah, and the girls—and Miss Foster?” William shoved on one shoe.
“I woke Nelson and Patrick and sent them up the backstairs.”
A plan of action formed in William’s mind as he jerked on the second shoe. “Go wake my brother and the indoor staff. Get everyone out to the back courtyard for safety. Send someone to wake the grooms and gardeners. Then we’ll organize the men to fight the fire.”
Lawrence gave a grim nod and tightened the belt of his robe. “Very good, sir.”
“I’ll see to the women and Millie.” Stuffing his nightshirt into his pants, William dashed out his bedroom door, with Lawrence running behind him.
The sound of pounding feet and voices in the hallway above reached his ears along with a strange crackling noise. Smoke hung in the air and grew thicker as he hustled through the gallery toward the east wing. His eyes burned, and he raised the front of his nightshirt to cover his mouth.
As he rounded the corner, a wall of fire halfway down the east wing stopped him cold. Flames leaped and danced up both walls, cutting off his access to the nursery and the rooms beyond. He squinted against the stinging smoke, but he could not see what lay past the flames. He would have to try reaching them from the servants’ stairs.
He raced down the main staircase and through the great hall toward the back of the house. When he reached the rear hallway, someone shouted from above. He stopped and looked up.
His first footman, Nelson, thundered down the stone stairs, with the second footman, Patrick, close behind. “We can’t get through this way.”
Patrick pushed past Nelson. “Let’s try the main staircase.”
William grabbed his arm. “It’s no use. I’ve already tried.”
The panting footmen exchanged anxious glances and then looked back at William. “What shall we do, sir?”
“Go to the rear courtyard. Report to Mr. Lawrence. We’ll gather the men to fight the fire and try to reach them.”
The footmen hurried downstairs, and William followed, his mind swimming through a thick haze of fear. There had to be some way to reach Millie and the women. He rushed out the back door, and a blast of cold wind whipped through his nightshirt. He strode across the cobblestones, searching for Lawrence.
The maids stood to one side, huddled together with Mrs. Emmitt. The grooms and under gardeners ran toward him from stables, carrying buckets and an extension ladder.
“Papa!”
William spun around as Andrew dashed toward him. His son leaped into his arms and held on tight. A muffled sob broke from the boy’s throat.
“Andrew.” He wrapped his arms around him, and the first wave of relief flowed through William. “How did you get down?”
Andrew pulled back and wiped his cheek. “Miss Foster helped me tie some sheets together. But she and Millie are still up there.”
William’s heart clenched. “Bring that ladder!” he shouted as he set Andrew down. “Lawrence, take the men and do what you can to put out the fire. But no one must risk his life to save the house. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.” Lawrence turned and shouted orders, sending some men to gather buckets and others inside to carry water upstairs.
The two young gardeners approached with the ladder.
“Follow me!” William ran around the side of the house to the east wing. Smoke curled out the open window where the rope of sheets hung almost to the ground. But no one looked out at them. Sick dread poured through him.
“I don’t see them.” Fear choked Andrew’s voice. “Millie! Miss Foster!”
William placed his hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “It’s all right.” But his own throat closed, and he could say no more. He directed the men to raise the ladder and lean it against the wall of the house.
“Shall I go up, sir?” The young gardener turned, awaiting his order. He looked strong and able, but William would not trust the lives of those he held most dear to anyone else.
“No. I’ll go. Hold the ladder.” William launched up the wooden rungs. Please, God. Let me be in time.
Julia crouched on the floor, trying to stay below the smoky cloud filling the room. Acrid fumes stung her nose and throat as she tried to blink away her stinging tears. She placed her arm around Millie’s shoulder and pulled her closer, wishing she could shield her from the smoke.
Millie coughed. “Where’s Andrew? Isn’t he coming back?”
“Help is coming, Millie. Don’t worry.” Please Lord, let that be true. She glanced toward the door. How much time did they have before the fire burned through?
She could climb down the sheets and jump to the ground, but she could not leave Millie to face the fire alone. Please, God, have mercy on us for Millie’s sake and for William’s. He could not bear the loss of his daughter after all the other losses he has endured.
A shout sounded below the window.
Julia gasped and stood up. Millie sprang up beside her, coughing and waving the smoke away from her face.
“Millie! Miss Foster!” William’s head rose into view, his frantic eyes searching for them through the haze.
“Papa!” Millie scrambled onto the window seat and jumped toward him.
“Whoa, my darling.” He clutched the windowsill.
Julia grabbed hold of Millie’s waist to stop her from pushing her father backward off the ladder.
William took hold of his daughter’s shoulders. “Can you climb down the ladder with me?”
Millie’s face crumpled. “Oh, Papa, I can’t. It’s too high.”
He shot a silent question at Julia.
An idea flashed through her mind. “Can you carry her on your back?”
He sent her a grateful nod, then climbed a step higher and braced his hands on the window seat. “Help her on.”
Julia boosted Millie onto her father’s back, and the little girl wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
William shifted her a bit, trying to balance her weight. It was a risky decision, but they had no other choice. “You must hold on tight, Millie.”
“I’m afraid, Papa!”
“It’s all right.” Julia touched Millie’s arm. “Just close your eyes—trust your father.”
William focused his intense gaze on Julia. “I’ll be back for you.”
Julia glanced over her shoulder at the smoky room, her throat burning. “There’s no time. I’ll follow you down.”
He shot her a desperate look. “All right. But be careful.”
“I will.” She gave William a f
ew seconds head start, then knelt on the window seat and backed out.
Gripping the sides of the ladder, she slowly lowered her foot, searching for the rung. The cold wind whipped around her, numbing her cheeks and hands. She glanced toward the ground, and her stomach plunged.
Please, Lord, help me.
She forced herself to look up and took the next step. Smoke swirled around her, stinging her nose and eyes. She pressed her lips together and slid her trembling hands down the sides of the ladder, taking one step and then another.
A cheer rose from the crowd below as William and Millie reached the ground.
Thank You, Lord.
A sudden explosion blasted from the open window above. Julia gasped. The ladder swayed. The maids screamed.
“Hold tight!” someone shouted from below.
Julia squeezed her eyes closed and clung to the ladder. A second passed, then someone gripped her ankle, guiding it to the next rung.
“That’s the way.” William’s strong, deep voice sent a comforting wave through her, but her knees felt like jelly. He leaned in, pressing his shoulder against her legs, steadying her.
“Oh, William.” Her voice trembled.
“It’s all right. Just keep going.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. He nodded and urged her on. She refocused and continued down. William reached the ground, then placed his hands around her waist and lifted her down beside him. Another cheer rose from the maids as they rushed forward to surround them. She looked up at William, her throat tight and her heart flooded with gratitude.
He pulled her into his embrace, crushing her to his chest. “Thank You, God,” he whispered in a choked voice. She melted against him, her own heart echoing the prayer.
Andrew and Millie wrapped their arms around them both.
“Help us!” Katherine shouted, leaning out her open bedroom window. Penelope stood next to her, frantically waving her arms.
“Hurry! Move that ladder,” William called. “We’ve got to reach Sarah as well.”
The men whisked the ladder away and leaned it against the wall below Katherine’s window. Flames shot from the children’s bedroom window, lighting the night. Harry, the young gardener, hustled up the ladder to help Katherine down.
Julia met Katherine at the bottom of the ladder and embraced her. Katherine choked back a sob and held on tight for several seconds.
Finally, Julia stepped back and watched Penelope descend with Harry’s help.
Clark Dalton ran around the side of the house and across the grass toward William. “Where’s Sarah?” he shouted, his eyes wide.
William clenched his jaw and pointed to the fourth window. “That’s her room.”
Julia looked up at Sarah’s dark window, and a shiver raced down her back. Surely the blast would have awakened her. Why wasn’t she at her window?
Clark rushed over to the base of the ladder as Penelope reached the ground. William joined him, and they quickly moved the ladder to Sarah’s window.
Determination lined Clark’s face as he sprinted up, calling Sarah’s name. When he reached the top, he banged on the glass and leaned closer to peer inside.
“Can you see her?” William called.
“No.” Clark yanked on the window, but it was locked.
“Find something to break the glass,” William shouted.
One of the young gardeners brought a rake. William grabbed it and carried it halfway up the ladder to meet Clark. Then Clark raced to the top again.
Julia bit her lip, her heart pounding in her throat. Please, Lord …
Millie grabbed her hand. Penelope, Katherine, and Andrew moved closer as they all fixed their gaze on Clark.
He steadied himself at the top of the ladder. “Watch out below!” He swung the rake toward the window. It shattered, sending pieces of glass raining down on the bushes below. He shouted to Sarah again as he broke the jagged glass around the edges of the window, then dropped the rake and climbed inside.
The crowd stilled. Julia held her breath and tightened her hold on Millie’s hand.
A few seconds passed, then Clark and Sarah stepped up to the open window.
A murmur passed through those waiting on the ground. William flashed a relieved glance at Julia, and she returned the same.
Clark tried to coax Sarah out the window and onto the ladder, but she shook her head and pulled back, sobbing. Then she buried her face in his shoulder.
Julia’s thoughts flashed back to the day they had decorated the Christmas tree: Sarah feared heights!
Clark wrapped his arms around her. “I’m taking her out the other way!”
William lunged forward and grabbed hold of the ladder. “You can’t!”
Clark shook his head, then turned away and disappeared from view.
William turned to Julia, his eyes wide, his expression stunned. “They’ll never get through. It’s a wall of flames.” He whirled away and set off at a jog toward the back of the house. The two young gardeners ran after him.
Julia, the children, and the maids hurried around the house to the rear courtyard, where they gathered by the open stable door. Lanterns had been hung to bring more light to the courtyard.
A flatbed wagon pulled by four horses rolled around the side of the house, and several men jumped from the back.
Mrs. Emmitt clasped her hands. “It’s McTavish and some of the tenant farmers.”
William shouted instructions to McTavish and the men, but as he turned back toward the house, Clark dashed out, pulling Sarah by the hand.
Julia ran toward Sarah. “Oh, Sarah, are you all right?”
Sarah nodded as she coughed and placed her hand on her chest. “Give me a moment, please.”
William looked her over, concern lining his face. “I was so worried.”
Sarah’s cough quieted, and she clasped Clark’s hand. “I’m fine, thanks to Clark.”
“Good heavens, man, how did you do it?” William stared at Clark, eyes wide.
Clark held tight to Sarah’s hand. “I’m not sure exactly. I just prayed like mad, then we ran through the hall and down the backstairs.”
William shook his head “But the footmen said they couldn’t get through.”
Clark glanced back at the house. “A few of the men are up there now with your brother, trying to put out the fire. Perhaps the Lord used them to open the way, or maybe we’re like Daniel’s three friends in the fiery furnace, and God shielded us from the flames.”
William placed his hand on Clark’s shoulder. “Thank you. That took a lot of courage. I’m grateful.”
Clark looked at Sarah. “I’m just glad Sarah is all right.”
William nodded and glanced toward the house. “I’m going back in. I could use your help, Dalton.”
“I’m with you, sir.”
He sent the gardener a grateful nod, then turned to go.
Julia reached for William’s arm. “Please, be careful.”
He looked into her eyes, and his stern expression eased. A surge of emotion passed between them, and her heart lifted.
He gave her a brief nod, then strode toward the house with Clark by his side.
TWENTY-SIX
Early the next morning, William looked at the burned-out cave at the end of the east wing as questions cycled through his mind. How had the fire started? Where would he find the money to repair all that had been destroyed?
He pulled in a shallow breath and clamped his mouth closed against the smoky stench. How long would it take to rid the house of that dreadful smell? At least the damage had been limited to two floors in the back half of the east wing, and more important, no lives had been lost.
“Where shall we sleep now?” Katherine slipped her hands into the pockets of her pale-blue dressing gown and joined William, Penelope, Sarah, and Miss Foster as they walked away from the east wing.
“There are plenty of bedrooms in the west wing.” William nodded in that direction. “You may choose any room you like.”
“What about the maids?” Penelope asked. “Where will they sleep?” The fire had burned through the ceiling of the nursery and Miss Foster’s room and damaged several of the maids’ bedrooms on the floor above.
William glanced at his sister. “Sarah and Mrs. Emmitt will have to sort that out.”
Sarah nodded. “I’m sure we can find new rooms for everyone. But first we must have some breakfast. It’s been a long night, and we have a busy day of cleanup ahead.”
As they reached the gallery, David strode out of the west wing dressed in clean clothes and looking well rested. “Morning, all.”
Julia took a step closer to William and sent him a questioning look.
William studied his brother. “Where’ve you been?”
“What do you mean? I was fighting the fire with everyone else.”
William narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t seen you for several hours.”
“Well, when it looked like you had everything under control, I went up to wash and change.”
Doubt swirled through William’s mind. His brother always seemed to find an excuse to avoid hard work.
David’s face colored slightly, and he shifted his gaze to Sarah. “Are we having breakfast? I’m quite hungry.”
“Yes, we’re just going down.” Sarah said. “Although I’m not sure what Chef Lagarde has prepared. He’s spent most of the night fighting the fire along with all the rest of the men.”
“But I’m sure David’s well aware of that,” William muttered under his breath.
David’s gaze turned cool. “Perhaps you’ll be glad to know I’m leaving this morning.”
“Oh, David.” Sorrow clouded Sarah’s eyes. “I thought you weren’t leaving until Saturday.”
David flicked an unseen piece of lint from his sleeve. “Unfortunately, country life is not all I hoped it would be.” He glanced at Miss Foster, his expression hardening. “It’s time I returned to London.”
Julia’s cheeks flushed, and she averted her eyes.
“Perhaps that’s best.” William gave a slight nod, barely able to restrain himself from saying more.
“There’s no need for you to leave.” Sarah sent William a hurt look, then took David’s arm. “Come and have breakfast with us. We can talk about this after.” Sarah and David walked downstairs. Katherine and Penelope followed. Miss Foster hesitated, her cheeks still stained pink.
The Governess of Highland Hall: A Novel Page 29
