by Bree Wolf
Blood, her mind supplied matter-of-factly.
Drawing a handkerchief from one of her coat pockets, Madeline tied it around her arm, using her teeth to pull the knot tight. Then she turned to the darkened room.
Lowering herself onto her hands and knees, she carefully moved forward, occasionally reaching out a hand to determine if there was anything in her way. Slowly, she crawled onward until her hand brushed over something soft.
Fabric.
Moving closer, Madeline’s hand travelled from the girl’s skirts upward and found her warm body. “I found her,” she whispered, uncertain if the widow had heard her with the howling wind outside. Hope and fear tightened her chest as she moved her hand to the girl’s chest…and waited.
For a moment that seemed to last an eternity, nothing happened, and Madeline’s body grew cold with terror.
But then Erin’s chest rose…and fell…and rose again.
Exhaling loudly, Madeline almost slumped to the floor in relief. “She’s breathing!” she called into the darkness.
Relieved sobs came from the far corner of the room. “Thank you. She is hurt.”
Feeling the child’s head, Madeline found a wet stickiness on her left temple. “She has a cut on her forehead,” she told the worried mother, “but the bleeding seems to have stopped.”
“Good,” Mrs. Dunning mumbled. “Good. Can you get her out?”
“What about you?”
“Get her out,” Erin’s mother insisted. “I’ll be fine.”
“All right.” Pulling the girl into her arms, Madeline began dragging her toward the window where a few silvery rays shone in, showing her the way out. “Don’t worry, little Erin. We’re almost there.” As she reached the wall, Madeline pushed herself onto her feet and then pulled the girl off the floor, lifting her as best as she could.
Gritting her teeth, Madeline cursed under her breath, doing her best to ignore the painful throbbing of her injured flesh. Then she took a last step and looked out the window, watchful of broken shards that would harm the girl in her arms.
As her gaze travelled over the small slope in the distance, Madeline froze, squinting her eyes, wondering if she had truly seen a light or if she was beginning to see bright spots due to blood loss. Was someone coming? “Hello?” she called into the open. “Is someone there?”
Instantly, voices responded, but they were too far away for her to understand what they were saying.
Again, Madeline called out, hoping that their neighbours would find them quickly. It would be far safer for Erin if someone were to take her from Madeline than if she tried to climb through the window with the girl in her arms. “Hello? Who’s there?”
“Over there!” Sean’s voice called, and Madeline sighed in relief, her eyes focusing on the faint lights in the distance.
A moment later, she could make out a group of shadows approaching the cottage in haste, two or three of them carrying a torch. Their long strides bringing them closer fast. As the clouds moved once more, Madeline spotted Sean as well as Mr. Thompson and several tenants she had come to know well over the past few weeks. Their faces were tense, their eyes wide, as they surveyed the damage.
“Take her,” Madeline said when Sean and Mr. Thompson reached the window. “Her mother is on the other side of the room. Her foot seems to be stuck.”
Mr. Thompson nodded, handing little Erin to Sean, who stepped back, cradling the little girl in his arms. “Step aside. I’ll come in.”
Madeline nodded, then turned around. Stretching out her hands, she took a careful step forward. And then another. “Mrs. Dunning, where are you?”
“I’m here,” the woman called out.
Following the widow’s voice, Madeline kept walking, slowly, step by step, Mr. Thompson following on her heels. When the voice seemed to come from directly in front of her, Madeline lowered herself to her knees and crawled onward, her hands reaching out.
A hand suddenly curled around her arm, and Madeline flinched, her heart hammering in her chest. “Is that you?”
“Yes! Please help me. My foot is stuck.”
Feeling her way in the darkness, Madeline followed the widow’s leg until she came upon a ceiling beam which had come down, trapping the woman’s foot. “Mr. Thompson, help me lift this,” she called, reaching out and then guiding his hands toward the rafter.
Together, they counted to three and then put their backs into it as they strained to lift the heavy board. Madeline’s arm ached under the strain, but the wooden beam slowly gave way.
The noise of someone shuffling on the floor reached Madeline’s ears. “I’m free!” the widow called.
Instantly, they released the beam and it crashed back down onto the floor, their breaths coming in strained gasps. As the strain fell from her, Madeline felt her arms begin to tremble and she was strangely reminded of the night Milly had foaled.
“Let’s get out of here,” Mr. Thompson urged them, “before more of the roof comes down.”
Assisting Mrs. Dunning, they made their way back to the window and handed the widow to the waiting neighbours outside. Then Madeline pulled herself up onto the windowsill, a smile coming to her face as her neighbours reached out to help her down. Again, Mr. Thompson followed on her heel.
“Thank you,” Madeline called against the howling wind, looking around the little group. “Thank you for coming.”
Mr. Thompson’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the handkerchief wrapped around her arm. “Are ye injured, my lady?”
Glancing at the blood-stained fabric, Madeline shrugged, “I cut myself when I climbed in the window. It’s not serious.” Then she turned to see Mrs. Dunning wrap her arms around her daughter, tears streaming down her face. “We should return to Huntington House to see to the family.”
“We can take care of them,” Mr. Thompson offered as he leaned closer so she would hear him, his eyes kind as he looked at her. “You’ve done enough for one night. Mr. Brewer will take ye home.” He glanced at Sean.
“You’re very kind, Mr. Thompson,” Madeline replied, touched by the support among their tenants, “and I thank you for your help in coming out in this storm. But I’m certain my husband would insist on it as must I. I promise they will be well-looked after at Huntington House.” Madeline hoped that Mr. Thompson would not resist further as she did not want to point out that despite everything Huntington House still had more means to take in a family of three. Their tenants were already forced to make due with very little, and yet, they were still willing to share it. Madeline did not wish to insult their generosity.
After a long moment, Mr. Thompson nodded, approval and respect in his eyes as he looked at her. “As ye wish, my lady.” Then he gestured to another man. “Will, help me carry Mrs. Dunning.”
With Erin still in Sean’s arms and Mr. Thompson as well as Mr. Tanner carrying Mrs. Dunning, the group slowly made their way back up the slope toward the manor. Leaning forward against the wind, Madeline swallowed, wondering what having Mrs. Dunning under the same roof would mean for her marriage.
And yet, she could not walk away. The family deserved their help.
Madeline could only hope that it would not end in a disaster.
Chapter Thirty-Four − Two Women
Never in his life had time passed so excruciatingly slowly.
Gritting his teeth, Derek glanced out the window as the wind howled and rain splattered against the house. The world seemed to be falling apart, and here he was, safe and sound in bed, while his wife was out there, braving the elements to save Meagan and her daughter.
Derek knew it should be him, not her.
And yet, she had insisted.
And he had complied.
I cannot lose you, he had said to her, and he had meant it, hoping to show her how much she meant to him.
A frown came to his face as he remembered her reply. Me? Or her?
Did she doubt him? He wondered. Did she suspect−? Remembering Tristan’s words, he flinched. If I didn’t
know any better, I’d say you gave her a reason to be jealous. Had he?
Inhaling a calm breath, Derek felt his hands clench and unclench as his thoughts ran rampant.
Then voices as well as footsteps drifted to his ears.
A lot of footsteps.
Unable to remain in bed any longer−to hell with his wife’s instructions! −Derek pulled away the blanket and got to his feet. Swaying slightly, he held up his arms to find his balance and then took careful steps toward the door. Once he had it open, the sounds grew louder, and he could make out the voices of his family as well as some of his tenants.
But not Meagan’s.
And not his wife’s.
His heart beat painfully in his chest as he hastened down the stairs as fast as he could. However, as he approached the kitchen, he realised that the commotion was not born out of tension and fear, but rather out of relief and accomplishment. Instantly, the rapid beating of his heart calmed.
Stepping inside the kitchen, Derek found that his entrance had gone unnoticed as everyone was turned to Meagan and her daughter. Sitting on a chair, she held the sleeping child in her arms, rocking her gently.
“Do not worry, dear,” Derek’s mother said, brushing a comforting hand over the little girl’s forehead. “She simply seems to be sleeping it off.” Then she knelt and took a hold of Meagan’s right foot. A frown drew down her brows as she examined it. “Ah, ye’ll have to stay off it for a while, but it should be fine. I don’t think anything’s broken.”
Derek exhaled in relief.
“Did I not tell you to stay in bed?”
Closing his eyes, Derek drew in a deep breath at the slightly hostile tone in his wife’s voice. Then he turned around to face her, noting the amused grins on his tenants’ faces. “I see you have returned,” he said by way of greeting, his eyes travelling over her beautiful face, her eyes narrowed as she regarded him with displeasure. Then he took note of the blood-stained handkerchief wrapped around her arm.
Immediately, he shot forward, pulling her against him. “You’re hurt,” he whispered, his gaze searching hers.
Seeing the concern on his face, her frown lessened. “It is nothing.”
He swallowed, wishing they were alone and not the centre of everyone’s attention.
As moments passed, Madeline’s gaze narrowed once more. “Go upstairs and lie down,” she instructed once again. Then she stepped back and turned to Sean. “Make sure he’ll stay there.”
Unable to hide the grin that came to his face, Derek chuckled, noting with satisfaction the good-natured laughter around him. Whatever his wife had done tonight, it had earned her the respect of their tenants. “I shall go,” Derek conceded, “as long as you allow my mother to treat your wound.”
“Fine,” she snapped, then pointed to the door.
With one last look over his shoulder, Derek allowed Sean to guide him out of the kitchen. “What happened?” he asked when they were no longer within earshot.
“The roof had caved in,” Sean explained as they climbed up the stairs step by step. “Mrs. Dunning was stuck and her daughter unconscious. Your wife climbed in through the window and was about to climb back out with the girl in her arms when we arrived.” He shook his head, admiration shining in his eyes. “She went in there all by herself. She didn’t wait for us.”
Derek drew in a deep breath. “How did she hurt herself?”
“She cut herself on the broken window,” Sean explained as he opened the door to Derek’s bedchamber, chuckling. “She didn’t fuss about it at all.” Turning his head, he met Derek’s gaze. “She’s come a long way. She fits in here nicely, don’t you think?”
Smiling, Derek nodded. “She only needed to find her way. Now that she has, she’ll be unstoppable.” Chuckling, he sank back down onto the bed, feeling his limbs tremble from the exertion of walking up and down the stairs. “I suppose we won’t have a moment of peace from now on.”
Sean laughed, “Did we ever before?”
As his brother-in-law returned downstairs to help see the family comfortably settled, Derek forced himself to relax. Although he preferred to handle everything himself, he knew that he could trust his family. They were capable and did whatever necessary with a devoted heart and a competent mind.
As was his wife.
But then again, he had always known that.
Only now, she seemed to have come to realise it as well.
***
It was long past midnight when the house had finally settled down.
“Go on up, dear,” Bessy told her, cleaning away the last remnants of tonight’s emergency. “Ye deserve a good night’s sleep or whatever’s left of it.” Chuckling, her mother-in-law squeezed her hand. Then her eyes became serious, and she nodded her head in acknowledgement. “I’m proud of ye, Madeline. My son truly knew what he did when he chose ye for his wife.”
Inhaling deeply, Madeline stared at her mother-in-law, too stunned to respond. Tears filled her eyes at the kind words because she knew it was not merely a platitude but heartfelt and honest. “Thank you,” was all she could manage as her throat closed.
Looking at her daughter-in-law, Bessy smiled, gently placing a hand to Madeline’s cheek. “Go to sleep, dear. Tomorrow will be a new day.”
Nodding, Madeline stepped away and headed upstairs, her heart filled with the many kind words she had received tonight. And yet, she knew it was not merely what she had done tonight that had changed the way their tenants saw her, but how she had come to feel.
Without knowing when it had happened, Madeline realised that she felt at home at Huntington House and with its people, and the thought of leaving seemed far-fetched and unrealistic as though she had never truly contemplated it.
The world seemed suddenly different.
Brighter.
Full of possibilities.
There was only one thing that held Madeline back. One thing that stood in the way of pure and utter joy.
Meagan.
After changing into her nightgown, Madeline stood by the window, gazing out at the trees slightly swaying in the wind. She took a deep breath and then walked out of her room, closing the door behind her. Hesitating outside her bedchamber, Madeline turned her head down the corridor toward the room that had been readied for the little family. Ought she disturb them so late? And after what they had just been through?
Madeline took a deep breath, then headed down the corridor. Outside the door, she closed her eyes for a moment, then quietly slid it open and peeked inside, knowing that she would never wake them if they were already asleep.
However, she had to try as her mind would not allow her to sleep otherwise. She would be tossing and turning all night. She was certain of it.
Stepping inside, Madeline found the family all huddled in bed, the mother in the middle, each arm wrapped around one of her children. Their eyes were closed, and the soft sounds of their calm breaths filled the night air.
Feeling like an intruder, Madeline stepped back when the board under her foot creaked.
Instantly, the widow’s eyes flew open.
“I’m sorry,” Madeline whispered. “I did not mean to wake you. I simply…”
Mrs. Dunning’s face relaxed, and she waved Madeline forward.
Stepping up to the bed, Madeline quietly pulled up the chair by the window and sat down. Then she leaned forward to be able to hear the widow without waking the children. “Is there anything you need, Mrs. Dunning?”
A ghost of a smile rested on Mrs. Dunning’s face. “I didn’t have a chance to thank ye for what ye did today, my lady.”
“Please call me Madeline.” Being called my lady oddly reminded Madeline of a life she had left behind. For good. “And it is not necessary to thank me. I did what I did because I wanted to. Anyone would have done the same.” She smiled. “Your neighbours rushed to help you.”
“I’m Meagan,” the widow said, her gaze travelling over Madeline’s face as though she tried to find an answer to a question that
had plagued her for some time. “It might not be necessary to thank ye,” she continued after a while, “but I find myself wanting to do so, nonetheless.” Again, she looked at Madeline as though about to say something before deciding otherwise.
“Is something wrong?” Madeline asked, wondering if there was something between Meagan and her husband after all. Was Meagan trying to tell her something, but could not find the words? Madeline swallowed as a bone-chilling cold gripped her body.
“I cannot help but feel that there is something…amiss between us.” Holding Madeline’s gaze, Meagan waited.
Madeline swallowed, realising she had once more reached a moment of truth. “I want to apologise if my words offend you, but,” she took a deep breath, “is there anything between you and…my husband?”
A knowing grin came to Megan’s face, and she shook her head. “I told him to speak to ye.”
Madeline’s blood froze in her veins.
“I told him ye might draw this conclusion if he did not.” Exhaling forcefully, she rolled her eyes in annoyance before meeting Madeline’s gaze once more. “No,” she said definitively. “There is nothing between myself and your husband, my l-Madeline.”
Slumping forward in her chair, Madeline buried her face in her hands, trying to breathe as relief washed over her. And yet, there was a quiet voice, whispering of doubt.
“At least not in the way ye were implying,” Meagan continued. “I think of us as friends, close friends.”
Madeline looked up, questions in her eyes.
Meagan sighed, and a touch of sadness came to her gaze. “We grew up together in the same village,” she finally said. “However, we’ve never been particularly close. It was him and my husband. They were good friends until the war took him from us.” Her voice grew thicker as her eyes filled with tears. “After Edward’s death, we grew closer. We had both lost him, and somehow there was suddenly an understanding between us that hadn’t been there before.” She swallowed, blinking back her tears. “Sometimes it feels good to have someone to lean on. Someone who understands. However, that is all there is between us. Ye have my word.”
