The Earl spared no time for arguing. Instead, his put his hands on the stone windowsill and lifted himself inside, tumbling to the ground as he did so. He stood up quickly to brush the burning straw from his clothes, then immediately dropped to the floor like Marjorie at the first singe of smoke in his breath.
“Where? Show me!” he called out, squinting his eyes at the burning sensation.
“Come this way, and be quick,” Marjorie answered, crawling back into the hallway through the stall door. “There!”
Evan followed, but could not see where she pointed. He felt along the floor as she did, and together they reached the unconscious man.
“We’ll have to stand to drag him,” Evan called out loudly over the roaring flames. “Breathe your last for now, and not again until we’re at the window.”
Evan hoisted the older man beneath the arms while Marjorie stood and lifted his feet. The effort of lifting Donohue was almost too great, but they managed to drag him closer and closer to the stall. He even stirred once when his skin brushed too closely to a pile of embers, and he managed a weak cough that gave them hope.
Together, Marjorie and Evan managed to bring him into the stall and then try to lift him to the windowsill. Evan finally climbed out and began to pull the old man’s arms, dragging him painfully over the ledge. There was nothing he could do to break Donohue’s fall, though, other than try to roll him forward as he fell head-first to the ground.
Marjorie breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Donohue lying in the open and Evan standing beside him, grateful that they’d been able to save the beloved horse master. Her smile disappeared as she saw the new look on Evan’s face, the instantaneous mask of horror mixed with his silent scream.
The roof came down above her.
Chapter 23
“My Lady, can you hear me?” a man’s voice called insistently. It wasn’t the first time Marjorie had heard it, nor the second. The voice had asked that same question so many times and each time, she thought she answered. She opened her mouth to speak but a raw burn in her throat prevented her each time. In her mind, though, she was shouting the words, responding that yes, she was here.
Behind her closed eyes, Marjorie could somehow see them, all of them. The stable hands, the household staff, even the Earl himself. All of them would be standing over her, staring in disgust at her appearance.
In her mind, she fought to get away, to cover herself so that none might see her boy’s clothes or the hair that was no longer covered by her cap. Where was her cap? Where had she lost it? Yes, the fire. She remembered all of it, how Donohue lay dying in a crumpled heap as the flames raged around him. She remembered calling for help, and the Earl appearing as if an angel in a dream.
Worse, she remembered the start of it all, the angry man who sought to hurt her when she discovered him setting the blaze. All of it was as burned into her memory as the timbers that still smoldered all around.
“My Lady, please. Please speak if you can,” the man insisted, and Marjorie finally whispered, her lips moving almost silently.
“Yes? What did she say? Did she speak?” the small crowd around her demanded. “Did you hear her?”
“Please…” she began before a torrent of coughing stopped her. When it finally subsided enough to utter another word, Marjorie said, “Water.”
“Here, My Lord! Give her this!” another man said, and before she could open her eyes Marjorie felt the blessed relief of a cool wet cloth pressed gently at the corner of her mouth.
“No, you mustn’t drink yet!” someone said as she cringed in pain. “The burns are too deep!”
“Where’s that damn physician?” the familiar man’s voice demanded, and Marjorie heard the scuffle of feet as someone must have gone to look for him. “Here, don’t drink, only let me hold this here.”
The wet cloth was again returned to her heated skin, and Marjorie chanced to open her eyes. Her vision was blurry, a fact that alarmed her greatly, but she was able to see who attended her.
The Earl. She recoiled in shame but was unable to move more than a mere flinch. She could make out the figures of several people standing around and felt again the sense of panic well up inside her, but there was nothing Marjorie could do now. They had seen her, and she’d heard them acknowledge her. The pain of her burns and the effort of drawing in breath made those cares seem inconsequential, though.
“My Lady… Marjorie…” the Earl whispered near her ear. “You must stay with us. The physician will be here soon, hold on. I know how it must pain you, but you must breathe. Please try.”
I am trying, she wanted to say,but yes, I’ll do so for you!But the words would not come, no matter how hard Marjorie tried to speak. Her eyes fluttered open to see the Earl looking down at her, fear and desperation in his expression.
“Move back, make room, I say!” another man’s voice said, and everyone scurried only slightly farther away, all but Evan. A new face appeared in Marjorie’s line of sight, but she couldn’t place him, his features too blurred by her injuries.
“My Lady Marjorie! What are you doing here, and why are you—” the physician began, but a low growl of warning from the Earl stopped him. The older gentleman coughed lightly and continued, “But of course. I see. Well, let’s see how bad it is, shall we?”
Marjorie fought back a cry each time the physician pressed the slightest touch to one of her burns. When he lifted each eyelid tenderly to check her eyes, fresh tears formed from the pain.
“Ah, that is actually a good sign!” he promised her. “Your tears mean the nerves aren’t burned, and your eyes can still water. That’s quite promising, actually!”
“What must we do?” Evan asked urgently.
“Sir, she must be put to bed at once, preferably where her maids can attend to her. I’ll send a nurse around straight away to stay with her. I will see to her burns myself, but as for the smoke… well, only time will tell how extensive the damage is. But My Lady is quite young and should be well again soon, assuming she is well cared for and does not attempt to get up before she is fully recovered.”
