She looked back up expectantly. “Come on, Milady! It’s not so bad!”
Anxious to the point of trembling, Arabella pulled herself up onto the ledge with shaky hands. Crouched against the side of the window, she did not dare to look down. Heights did not trouble her much, but heights that could more swiftly end in pain proved to be problematic. Her body simply did not want to go down the rope.
I must… I must or I shall burn. It will be unpleasant, but only for a short time.
Demanding her faculties to be brave, she took hold of the rope and lowered herself out of the window. Her shoes, hastily put on when she had made her earlier attempt to get help, scuffed across the slippery wall. Closing her eyes, she took a couple of seconds to breathe deeply, though that only served to bring about a coughing fit.
“Are you well, Arabella? We are right here. We will not let you fall!” Henry shouted up, as she began to move down the wall.
She had barely made it a quarter of the way when a petrifying explosion erupted from the side of the house. A blast of glass shattered outward and a huge, licking tongue of intense flame rolled out of the window to her right, slavering in every direction. The heat and the explosion caught her by surprise, prompting her feet to slip and her hands to sweat. She scrambled to resume her position… and looked up to find that the makeshift rope was on fire.
Everything happened in a blur. One moment, she was holding on tight, knowing she could make it down. The next, she was falling, the fire cutting through the rope like a hot knife through butter.
“Help!” she just had time to scream as the earth rushed up to meet her.
Two bodies dove into the path of her tumble. As she collided with them, she reasoned it could not have been much worse to hit solid ground. Sharp pain detonated across her chest as, knocking Cassie and Henry down with her, she finally met the grass beneath. Indeed, she got quite the mouthful of it.
“Arabella? Arabella, are you hurt?” Henry’s soothing voice graced her ears, and she felt strong arms encircle her.
Cassie, who had only caught one side of Arabella, wriggled out and shifted to kneel at her friend and mistress’s side. “You should’ve gone before me! I told you, Milady—you should’ve gone before me.” A hiccup brought on tears, which trickled down Cassie’s cheeks. “You could’ve died, Milady. My goodness, what would I have done? I swore I wasn’t ever going to leave you, so don’t you make me break my promises.”
“My… leg hurts,” Arabella gasped, winded by the fall. “But, otherwise, I believe I am in one piece.”
Henry sat up, wheezing himself. After all, she appeared to have landed squarely on him. “Your leg?” He moved her into his lap, cradling her. “Cassie, might you check?”
“Oh, Milady…” Cassie wiped away her tears before going to look at her mistress’s leg. She was careful not to expose any skin to Henry’s eyes, though he was too busy looking at Arabella to notice.
Besides, he has already seen my ankles.Arabella gazed back at Henry, grateful to be in his arms. Even with the fire licking out of the upstairs windows, and the booms of things collapsing vibrating out through the ground, she felt safe as long as he had hold of her.
“Arabella, I—” Henry began to say, only to be sharply cut off by Cassie.
“Oh, Milady, you’ve got some terrible bruises! We’ll have to get a physician to tend to you. My Lord, can one be sent for?”
Henry smiled. “Of course, Miss Cassie. I believe we shall all need his expertise, for when I was a soldier, we were told there is nothing more dangerous than inhaling smoke. They call it the Silent Killer, and I do not intend to lose anyone to its assassination.”
What were you going to say?Arabella willed him to continue, but it appeared the moment had gone.
“Who did this?” the Duchess, who Arabella had almost forgotten, stared up at her burning house with fury in her eyes.
Henry turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“Someone has done this to us, and I would like to know who,” she replied.
Arabella frowned in confusion. “Surely, it was a terrible accident?”
“I have lived in this house for over forty years, Arabella.” The Duchess balled her hands into fists. “I have seen my share of smaller fires, but this… this is no ordinary blaze. For one, the fires in the East Wing are never lit in the summer, save for the occupied bedchambers. If either one of our fireplaces had caused this, the fire would have begun with us.”
A soft hiss escaped Henry’s throat. “What of the ashpit? It could have spread from there.”
“The ashpit was moved last winter, after just such an incident,” the Duchess answered grimly. “It is far away from the house, and I see no trail of flames leading between the two places, do you? Moreover, last winter’s incident merely scorched the outer wall and an unused outbuilding. It did not cause an inferno.”
A chill splintered up Arabella’s spine. “Why would anyone want to burn down this beautiful house?”
“We have many enemies, Arabella.” The Duchess sighed as if she had the entire weight of the world upon her shoulders. “Any one of them could have done this.”
Henry’s arms held Arabella closer, and though pain throbbed up her leg, it was nothing compared to the icy stab of terror that sliced through her chest. If the Wright family had so many enemies, perhaps her beloved’s arms were not as safe as she had thought.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
