The Governess of Highland Hall (42 page)

“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.

William waited, wanting to be certain David and the others were out of range. He turned to Miss Foster. “I feel I ought to apologize for my behavior last night.”

She looked away, but he could see she knew exactly what he was referring to.

“When I found you in the hall with my brother, I should have come to
your defense instead of questioning you. I know David. And I’m quite certain I misjudged you. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course, sir.” But she still carried a trace of hurt in her eyes.

He straightened, determined to explain his reaction and make things right. “You see, my late wife, Amelia, carried on a secret affair for over a year before her death.”

Her face paled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Neither did I, and that’s the worst of it. Not only was she unfaithful, she was also deceptive, and I’m afraid her actions have tainted my view of people.”

“That must have been painful for you.”

His throat tightened, and he looked away for a moment. “Yes, painful and humiliating. Half of London knew of her affair, and the other half heard about it after her death … everyone, that is, except me. I didn’t learn of it until two months later, when I found letters she had hidden in her room.”

Sympathy filled Miss Foster’s gaze. “Thank you for telling me. It helps me understand.”

“What? That my wife had no trouble leaving me behind for another man?”

“No sir,” she said softly. “It helps me see why it’s difficult for you to trust and believe that someone could love you and be devoted to you.”

He stilled, and a tremor traveled through him. Was she speaking in general terms or about herself?

She looked him in the eyes. “I hope one day you’ll find someone who is worthy of your love, and with her help, you’ll rebuild your broken trust and all that has been lost will be restored to you.”

His heartbeat sped up as he searched her upturned face. Surely she was not saying she wanted to be the one to help him rebuild his life, was she?

He stepped closer and reached for her hand. It was soft and small and fit perfectly in his, such a sweet and caring hand that spread comfort and love to whomever she touched.

Her lips parted as she looked up at him, a touch of wonder in her eyes.

Voices and a commotion rose from the great hall below, and they
stepped back. Her hand slipped from his, and regret swept through him like a powerful wave.

Mrs. Emmitt slipped behind the pillar at the end of the gallery and cocked her head to listen. Sir William and Miss Foster stood together at the top of the stairs, engaged in what appeared to be a very cozy conversation.

“You see, my late wife, Amelia, carried on a secret affair for over a year before her death.”

Mrs. Emmitt raised her hand to her mouth and stifled a gasp. His wife had been unfaithful? She could barely hear Miss Foster’s soft reply, but her tone was obviously sympathetic—and maybe something more.

A burning sensation rose in Mrs. Emmitt’s throat. Why would Sir William tell Miss Foster such intimate details about his life? She was just the governess. She should not be the one to console Sir William.

She turned, intending to slip away down the hall, but then she heard Miss Foster’s reply: “I hope one day you’ll find someone who is worthy of your love, and with her help, you’ll rebuild your broken trust and all that has been lost will be restored to you.”

Why, that little hussy! So
that
was what she was after—not a footman or a groom, but the master himself. How dare she even consider such a thing! Did she think she could just cast a line, hook one of the most prestigious men in the county, and reel him in like a fisherman caught a trout?

She had no rank, no place in society, and definitely no money.

Mrs. Emmitt shook her head. It couldn’t be borne. She would never take orders from the likes of her!

Voices one floor below in the great hall caught her attention as Mr. Lawrence announced the arrival of Lady Gatewood and Miss Drexel.