Arabella already knew in her heart. “Who?”
It was hardly a whisper. “Sir Statham... his candle must have been too close to the bed curtains. The poor man.”
And that was it... the last of her dead husband’s cronies had been removed from this world by something as simple as a small flame and if her suspicions were correct, a mute maid who was trying to keep them all safe.
Arabella had to know if the girl ha
d been seen. “Was there any sign of my Mary inside? I sent her to bed... and did not see her rush out with the other servants.”
Taking her friend’s hand, Lizzy murmured, “Not that I know of, my lady.”
A man had hung for the death of the Marquise of Glauster. A ship had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, all aboard dead so Baron Witte might meet his end. And now a family Arabella had adored would be forever marked... their home ruined so Sir Statham might burn. But, there would be time to dwell on her part in this later. Now was the time to see her family and theirs through.
Mrs. Jenkins was in too much of a fit, raving out prayers with those who could not find the strength to stand. Lilly’s pride was diminished, the girl clutching her blanket about shaking shoulders. Only Lizzy had the sense to act, but she needed guidance; she needed the baroness’s strength. “The blankets have been laid about as you directed. What do we do now?”
Arabella did not know, the best she could come up with was, “The horses.”
Confused, Lizzy repeated, “The horses?”
“Yes.” Breathless, she shook her head. “They must be calmed before they hurt themselves. Talk gently to them, stop their fretting. If the stable catches fire, we must see that they are set free to run before we flee.”
As if God had heard Mrs. Jenkins frantic prayers, the sound of soft rain began to hit the roof. It was a short lived reprieve. The groaning shriek of breaking wood surpassed the shouts of running men escaping the house, and with a mighty hail of ashes the roof over the north wing collapsed.
Within the stable several women rushed the windows, many more running out into the yard in search of husbands or brothers.
Arabella was amongst them, crying out for her own missing companions in the rain.
And then she saw him. Her Gregory came flying out the portico with a girl grasped tight in his arms.
Racing over gravel and mud, her skirts caught up over her arm, she flew to them. Mary singed and shaking, Gregory’s eyes as fiery as the devil’s.
Light rain turned into a deluge, the baroness doing all she could to help manage the girl’s weight until under the stable’s eaves.
There was a roar, strong hands pinning her to the wall. “You gave me your word you would remain in the stable!”
Blind to his wrath, Arabella searched his face, his shoulders, searching his form for injury. “Are you wounded? Were you burned?”
Curt, he answered, “No.”
“You saved my Mary...” Wild, she threw her arms around him, peppering his face with kisses while all three sank down in the mud. “The roof caved in! I was afraid for you.”
Sodden with runoff, caught up in Arabella’s frantic embrace, Gregory held her tight, no care for who might see. Lips at her ear, he whispered, “I found her in Dalton’s room.”
Breathless, Arabella clung too hard. “Lizzy claimed her brother found Statham burned in his bed.”
Mary had a strangle hold on Arabella’s hand, the girl coughing in earnest. When the maid could manage breath, she croaked. “I held him down.”
It was the first and last time Arabella would ever hear that bird-like voice. Mouth agape, the baroness was struck speechless, so Gregory answered for her, “Well done, Mary.”
The little hand gripping tightly to her was scalded. Arabella, seeing Mary’s blisters, the scorch marks on her dress, tried to gather the girl up. “We must get her inside the stable. The physician’s bag is in there... these wounds need to be tended. She needs medicine.”
Gregory cut in, halting the woman before she might scamper off. “What of Dalton? Have you seen him?”
“He was in the yard when it began. I had Hugh call the women to the stable so he would stay away. I don’t know where he is now.”
“The coward is hiding, no doubt.” Gregory sneered, placing Mary against Arabella’s breast. “I shall find him and end him now. No soul will know how it happened.”
Desperate, her hand shot out to grasp his forearm. “No. Not now. Maybe not ever. He is powerless without his friends... penniless. After this I cannot bear anymore on my conscience. Please, stay with me instead.”