The Seventh Miss Hatfield (25 page)

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Authors: Anna Caltabiano

BOOK: The Seventh Miss Hatfield
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Chapter 28

The smell of smoke had only just begun wafting into my room when I heard the screaming start. Confused, I coughed as I sat up in bed, taking a moment to try and orientate myself to what was going on. Then Nellie burst into my room.

‘Oh, come quickly, Miss Rebecca!’ she cried. ‘The whole house is ablaze – we must get out!’

‘Eliza!’ I screamed and started towards my friend’s door, but Nellie just kept dragging me along the hall and down the stairs. I barely had time to grab my little bag and cloak.

‘Hannah’s helped Miss Eliza out already, Miss Rebecca. Come now, we must hurry!’

Everything was red and smoky, and it all felt so surreal. Events were unfolding in slow motion and, in some ways, I was sure I must be dreaming. But when the cold night air hit my face at the bottom of the stairs and I flung one last look over my shoulder, I knew it was truly happening.

The ceiling moaned as the chandelier in the hallway swayed and detached, crashing to the floor and shattering into a million tiny pieces. Then the ceiling itself fell in on top of it. A piece of burned paper fluttered through the air, almost hitting my face, but I automatically opened my free hand and caught it, sticking it in my pocket to remember this night. That was the last thing I recall before Nellie finally got me outside, and we were somehow standing with all the other residents of the Beauford Estate, huddled into a few small groups a safe distance away from the blazing mansion.

As I watched from afar, as the flames engulfed the beautiful old house, a montage of my time with the Beaufords was playing in my memory like an old black-and-white picture show in a different time. But that memory was from another lifetime and had no bearing here. I was immortal. Time had no relevance for me any more. I had to get away, and in the next couple of hours, before anyone had a chance to give me a reason to stay, or notice that I was taking a painting with me. I had to assume that Henley’s plan to destroy the artefacts had been to burn them, and that things had got out of hand.

My attention snapped back to the present. I hoped Henley had retained the presence of mind to ready food in the barn alongside the painting on my behalf. Thinking of Henley, I looked around the huddled groups of people, but I didn’t see him. In my reverie, I hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t standing in his rightful place beside Christine.

I had no words to describe the feeling that ripped through me the instant I realized he wasn’t there. I felt paralysed, yet there I was, running towards the flame-engulfed house. I knew that what I was doing didn’t make sense. It was hardly the logical thing to do, but somehow I couldn’t find it in me to care. Henley was still in the house, and I was going to get him out. I didn’t care what I risked. I just needed him to be safe.

My legs ran as if they weren’t my own. It was as though my eyes were seeing what my body was doing a few seconds after it actually moved.

Out of nowhere, I felt arms grab me and I tried to break free. I almost succeeded, but the arms only gripped me tighter, and I knew the rough embrace would have hurt if I’d had the capacity to feel anything in that moment.

‘Miss. Miss!’ The arms shook me when I didn’t respond. ‘You can’t do that. You can’t run into the burning house, miss.’

The arms held me still when I struggled against them, pinning my fists to my sides. I felt my cheeks grow wet, and my hair, now loose and flying madly across my face, stuck to my skin.

‘Think of the young master.’ My arms went limp at the mention of Henley. ‘He wouldn’t want you to do this. He’d want you to trust him. He’ll get out. Trust him.’

I looked up to see Wilchester’s face inches above mine. His expression was fierce, determined not to cry out or shed tears.

My body gave in and all my limbs went slack. Without his arms supporting me, I would have dropped to the ground in a heap. It was all I could do to squint towards the house. Hoping. Just hoping that maybe, through luck or divine will, Henley had made it out alive.

Those seconds and minutes felt like the longest I’d ever endured. All I could hear was my heart in my ears and my eyes burned from the smoke. My vision blurred – whether from the acrid fumes or my tears, I knew not – but when at long last I saw movement in the flames, I thought I must be imagining it.

My grimy hands wiped frantically at my eyes, trying to clear my vision enough to see through the hazy smoke. A man was running towards us, covering his mouth with a handkerchief and coughing. It was Henley.

I was so thankful to see him, I thought I would go insane with joy. I took a step towards him, but stopped as I saw his eyes scan the crowd for any missing faces. I knew he had a role to play, and watched him take his rightful place beside Christine. Surprisingly, Christine had her arm around Eliza in their little group, and Eliza actually looked happy. Perhaps, in times of great crisis, even Christine could rally to Eliza’s defence and be a decent person. I certainly hoped so, both for Eliza’s sake and Henley’s. As Henley made his rounds, double-checking to be sure everyone had got out, he gave me a quick glance and a nod. There was a shadow of guilt in his eyes; we both knew it was he who had started the fire, but no one else would ever suspect the new young master of destroying his own home, intentionally or not. I remembered Henley saying that the house reminded him of his father in ways the city house did not. I found it strange, since they were both family houses, but I supposed that the house in the country was where Henley had spent most of his time when he was home from school. Perhaps this had been his plan all along – to wipe out every physical reminder of his painful memories so he could start again.

The flames were in their full glory now, and it was plain to everyone that nothing left inside could be saved. All we could do was stand there, awestruck, as we watched the destruction of the place that had once been home to us all; witnessing the rising flames devour what had been a gorgeous old mansion as it went up in smoke. I hadn’t expected Henley’s plan to have quite such a dramatic conclusion – but it had certainly been effective in achieving what I needed to accomplish. Not only were the study and all its contents now ash, but the whole house as well.

I looked up at the sky. The moon shone down coldly upon the devastating scene, utterly unbothered by the tragedy playing out beneath it.

Chapter 29

Henley assumed his full responsibilities as the master of the situation, since there was no longer a house to be master of.

‘I’m so pleased everyone escaped without any harm. I’m sorry about your things, of course, but things can be replaced and there will be a new house. This is a time to start over for all of us.’ He rubbed his hands together as though searching for his next words, but perhaps he’d rehearsed this speech a few times prior to setting his plan in motion this evening.

Whose plan? I heard Miss Hatfield’s voice enquire, and I shuddered, trying to make her go away. I hadn’t heard from her in several days, and her presence here felt like a true invasion of privacy. I silently sent her a request: Please be patient just a little while longer. I’ll be back with you less than twenty-four hours from now.

Hearing no reply, I felt she must be satisfied that I was finally going to carry out my mission. I was startled back into the present reality when I heard Henley giving directions.

‘All right, since it’s so late – and we won’t really be able to assess what’s to be done until daylight anyway – rather than waking up our neighbours, I propose we set up temporary sleeping accommodations in the lofts above the two stables.’ He paused, looking at me, and I knew we were both thinking of the painting and supplies hidden in one of the stables. ‘We won’t use the third stable. It’s too close to the house. The other two are far enough away from the main house that they should be safe, but one of us will stay awake at all times to make sure that no stray spark reaches us. One stable will be for the womenfolk, and we men will be in the other.’ He grinned wearily. ‘Hay can actually be quite comfortable to sleep on, if you aren’t allergic to it.’ He turned to the male servants. ‘Come along, fellows, I’ll show you where there are some nice clean horse blankets, and we can fashion some makeshift mattresses for the women. The men shall rough it and sleep right on the hay.’

The servants agreed and set to work immediately, although everyone was already exhausted from the ordeal. I was impressed by how quickly the men created sleeping spaces for the women in the first loft, but Christine could bring herself to do nothing other than complain. What a surprise!

‘I simply must have my own mattress.’ Christine flounced down on the hay near where Wilchester and another servant were busily creating the best beds possible for us. ‘I can’t tolerate having someone else so close to me while I’m sleeping – it’s suffocating!’

Eliza and I were already stretching out on the bed we’d agreed to share, and it was surprisingly soft and comfortable. A wicked grin spread across Eliza’s face as she heard this last comment from her sister. ‘Lucky Henley. Perhaps they won’t ever have to share a bed, then!’ she whispered, and giggled like a schoolgirl.

I chuckled quietly, but kept my gaze on the rafters so as not to allow Christine to see our little joke was at her expense. She appeared oblivious, however, and went right on spouting her negativity even after the men created an extra high and wide bed for her. She sat on it tentatively.

‘Oh, this is going to be so lumpy,’ she whined. ‘I wonder if my back will ever recover.’

Eliza could be silent no more at that. ‘Christine!’ she reprimanded, her tone uncharacteristically sharp. ‘You are so ungrateful! We all might have died, but everyone got out alive. Henley has lost his home, and you’re complaining about where you’ll be sleeping for a few short hours. You should thank the good Lord above you’re alive, and consider being a better helpmate to your intended husband. Now, I don’t want to hear another word.’ She rolled over, turning her back to her older sister, who was stunned into silence.

I wanted to applaud and say, ‘Bravo, Eliza!’ but I held my tongue. I was simply happy for my friend that she’d finally found a way to honestly voice her feelings to her sibling.

Wilchester and another servant stood at the top of the loft ladder, preparing to climb down and head over to the other stable to join the rest of the men. There was a delighted smile on Wilchester’s face, which made him nearly unrecognizable. I’d never seen a smile light up his countenance before, and had wondered at times if the dour old fellow’s face might break if he ever did smile, but that obviously wasn’t the case. It looked a bit odd sitting there on his lips, but I smiled back at him as I realized he had little patience for Christine, either, and had thoroughly enjoyed the tongue-lashing Eliza had just delivered. He bobbed his head in our direction.

‘Goodnight, Miss Rebecca, Miss Eliza. Some of us will be taking a carriage into town in the morning, bright and early, to fetch some breakfast back for everyone. I trust you’ll all sleep well, now.’

‘Our bed is very comfortable – thank you so much, gentlemen,’ I said, and nodded back. Christine huffed and turned over first on one side, then the other, as the men descended the ladder. I decided to ignore her and got one of the best night’s sleep I’d had in some time. I knew my mission was finally on its way to being realized and this was probably the last night I would spend with Eliza and Henley, or even in this time. I couldn’t leave right then, although I knew I should – but I needed to say goodbye to Henley first.

Chapter 30

As sunlight streamed through a few chinks in the loft’s log walls, I awoke feeling strangely refreshed. I could hear the sounds of people bustling outside, but it was muted, as they were trying to be considerate towards those of us who were still sleeping. I was grateful that I’d had the presence of mind to grab my bag last night, and slept fully clothed. Looking back at Eliza and Christine, I realized they’d at least have to start their day in their nightgowns, until Henley could see to getting them some new clothes in town. He’d still been fully dressed when he exited the inferno that he’d started, of course, and some of the male servants also had on their clothes from the day before. Obviously they were not normally early to bed.

As I walked outside, I observed Hannah, Nellie and the other female staff creating a picnic of sorts on a makeshift table with benches pulled up alongside it. I noticed that all the servingwomen were fully dressed, too, and mused that they must be accustomed to working from sunrise well into the evening. In this case, their long hours had been advantageous to them for once, and saved their dignity. I was sure Henley was aware of that, too, and had made every effort not to create total devastation and embarrassment for his loyal staff by staging the fire at a time when his servants would be still fully dressed, and therefore at least have one set of clothes.

My stomach growled as I smelled the bacon, potatoes and fresh bread that were being laid out for our morning repast. I wondered where Henley was and, as if reading my mind, Wilchester walked over to me and said, ‘Mr Henley’s gone to the nearest neighbours to borrow some extra carriages to take everyone into town. He’s going to put us all up at a couple of boarding houses there until we can figure out the next step.’ He paused, as though exhausted from making such a long speech. I’d never heard him say so much in one breath, certainly not to me.

I believed he’d decided it was all right to befriend me in the eleventh hour. I wondered if he’d worked out that I wouldn’t be going into town and joining the rest of them at a boarding house. Little got past this observant man, after all. Our little bonding over Christine’s fussiness had helped him lighten up a lot towards me, and it struck me that he really was a nice man, even if normally a stiff and formal one. That morning, he almost appeared reborn.

‘Thank you for letting me know, Wilchester,’ I said. ‘I’ll go and rouse Eliza and Christine for breakfast.’

‘Oh, no need, miss.’ He smiled and glanced in the direction of the women’s stable. ‘I’ve sent Hannah and Nellie to do that.’ He graciously pulled a bench back from the table so that I might be seated more easily. ‘Go on and eat your breakfast now, while it’s still a bit warm, at least,’ he encouraged.

I was touched; it did smell quite delicious. I fell upon it ravenously, and everything tasted so wonderful, so scrumptious! I didn’t know if my increased appetite was the result of knowing that everything was finally heading in the right direction for me, or if the exertions of the night before and relief of surviving the fire had anything to do with it.

I saw Eliza walking impatiently away from her sister, using her stick to guide her, which someone had obviously thoughtfully grabbed as we exited the burning house. Most likely Hannah, I supposed. She was such a clever young girl.

Christine was showing no signs of the momentary compassion she’d offered her sister in the wee hours of the morning, outside the blazing house. Once again, the world revolved only around her.

‘Rude impertinence, not to wait for us to arrive before eating,’ she reproved me. I simply smiled and waved a piece of bacon in her direction, and went right on eating. ‘Hmph!’ she snorted.

Hannah and Nellie helped Eliza get seated and got her a heaped plate of food. They ignored Christine, which amused me greatly. It finally appeared to dawn upon her that no one else shared her high opinion of herself, and she grumpily began to fill her own plate.

‘What a sight!’ I heard Henley’s voice call from a carriage that had rolled up behind us. ‘It looks like everyone has a good appetite this morning, and that’s marvellous,’ he enthused as he jumped down from the buckboard. He hardly looked like someone who’d just burned down his own beautiful home – the majority of his heritage. There was a sense of … well, I’d have to say great relief emanating from him. He, too, ignored Christine, who seemed totally preoccupied with grousing to herself and everyone around her about the fact that her breakfast was cold. Henley leaned down next to my ear. ‘Could you spare a moment for an old friend?’ he whispered.

I nodded, indicating I was quite full, and followed as he led me back towards the stables. ‘Wilchester!’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Once the ladies, and I mean all of the ladies –’ he made a sweeping gesture that included Eloise, Hannah, Nellie and the other servants, as well as Eliza and Christine ‘– have eaten their fill, let’s help get them into the carriages that will be showing up shortly and head on into town.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Wilchester replied. ‘As soon as they’re done and the carriages roll up, Mr Henley.’

Henley and I kept walking until we were standing just inside the door of the now empty women’s stable. The horses softly nickered and whinnied, having just eaten their breakfast, too, content now to watch us as though they were the audience of some play. Henley glanced about furtively then closed the door, leaving it just slightly ajar to avoid any concerns about impropriety should anyone be watching. He needn’t have bothered. Christine was far too absorbed in eating and complaining to have even noticed our exit from the breakfast table. I guessed that the shock of the fire had made her so preoccupied with her own comfort that she even forgot Henley.

‘Was everything executed as you’d have liked?’ he asked breathlessly as he made his way over to a lump on the ground covered with a blanket. He lifted the blanket to reveal the painting, as well as some food. Thunder observed us from a nearby stall and pawed the ground, as though he approved.

I reassured him that the whole plan had been executed perfectly, even though I found it hard to believe he’d intended the destruction to go as far as it had. I tried to thank him, but I felt quite tongue-tied. I cleared my throat as I sought the right words. ‘I can’t believe you burned the whole house down—’

‘Shush, now, there, there,’ he said quietly. ‘It was actually a very cathartic thing to do, to be honest. I’ll rebuild a house that’s even better in many ways, and it won’t have the old man’s memory in it, either, so please don’t concern yourself with that. I’m more interested in you and your plans. Once you’ve taken the news and the painting to your friend, won’t you consider rejoining us, helping to oversee the new mansion being built?’ There was the slightest hint of pleading in his voice. So he hadn’t forsaken all his feelings for me after all! My heart leapt in my chest at this confirmation that I hadn’t dreamed up this love all on my own. The way he’d been acting towards me over the previous few days and his increasingly obvious admiration of Christine had half-convinced me that I’d made it all up. I’d known that was the best possible solution, but the realization that I’d been wrong still stunned me. But just as quickly, my heart fell when I remembered that this love could never be, and I dared not encourage him now.

‘You know I can’t,’ I replied softly, turning my back to him. I crossed over to Thunder’s stall and began saddling him up. ‘I have to go—’

‘Go where?’ he entreated. ‘Home?’

I nodded thoughtfully, wondering where exactly my home was now. ‘Yes, in a way, I suppose,’ I said, and continued preparing Thunder for our trip. I knew I’d have to wait until the carriages had taken everyone off to town before I left, but I couldn’t trust myself to look directly at Henley as we were talking. Better to busy myself with grooming and saddling Thunder, to keep me focused on what must happen very soon.

‘What if you didn’t have to leave to go home, Rebecca?’ he asked quietly. At this, I turned to see him shyly looking down at his own feet. What could he be thinking? ‘Do you remember the best gift I ever gave you?’ he continued.

I watched him, feeling helpless to stop whatever it was he had in mind, but totally confused as to where these questions were leading. ‘You’ve given me numerous lovely, kind gifts, Henley,’ I replied. ‘I can never thank you enough. But the greatest gift I shall always treasure is your friendship.’ I quickly clasped my hand over the back of his, as a friend would do, then tried to pull away. But he held on to it and forced me to look at him.

‘Well, I should think you’d remember telling me that the best gift anyone ever gave you was me not buying you a ring in a store window.’ His eyes twinkled as he gently teased me. I suddenly felt queasy, as that urgency to leave this place and time resurfaced inside me.

The roiling discomfort in my stomach reminded me that I couldn’t stay with Henley. I could lie to myself and remain in his time, but that indescribable feeling – that nagging ache in the pit of my stomach – would always be there, and eventually it would destroy me. My nature would always come between us. We were two different beings entirely, Henley and I. Was I even human any more, now that I couldn’t die?

‘Does that ring a bell?’ Henley was oblivious to the thoughts that were surfacing in my mind. And he had every right to be. We were different. Not meant to be together.

I remembered quick flashes of our shopping day in town, when he’d purchased all that lovely clothing for me, the beauty of the ring’s sparkle, the way his hair gently fell across his forehead. With some surprise, I realized I’d begun falling in love with Henley at the moment he’d agreed not to purchase that ring for me. But he was talking again now, and his voice startled me out of my memories.

I turned to look at him and felt paralysed as I watched him pull a small box out of his pocket. He then began to kneel in front of me. My voice was frozen – I couldn’t think of anything to say, and no sound came out. I wanted to jump onto Thunder and ride away, never to look back. I couldn’t stay. That much was clear and the only constant I could cling to. But for the universe to taunt me with what I knew I could never have? I shut my eyes, willing the scene in front of me to go away, but Henley wasn’t done yet. I was sure that everyone but Henley knew the answer I had to give him.

‘Well, I broke that promise a few days later,’ he continued. ‘I went back to the shop and purchased it for you, knowing that one day, the timing would be right to do what I do now.’ When I opened my eyes, he was fully down on one knee, the ring box open. His eyes shone brilliantly – even brighter than the ring – as he extended it towards me. ‘Rebecca Hatfield, will you do me the honour of—’

‘Stop!’ I cried. ‘Henley, for God’s sake, please get up, and I beg of you, don’t continue with your proposal. This can never be.’

‘But why?’ he asked, earnestly watching my face. ‘Why should I not propose to the woman I love more than anything else in the world?’ He slowly stood up and approached me. ‘Rebecca, I plan to make you happy beyond your wildest dreams.’ He paused and pocketed the ring box. ‘You’re different. Different from all the other girls I’ve met, different from all the other people I’ve met. I don’t have to play a role when I’m with you. I don’t have to be a Beauford when I’m with you. God, Rebecca – look at me.’ His arms were outstretched now. ‘Forget Henley Beauford. I’m not him any more. I’m just Henley. Your Henley. And I don’t care about anything or anyone else. It’s as simple as that. We won’t have to answer to anyone. No expectations. We can live however we want to live. We can build our own future.’ He took my hands and engulfed them in his own. ‘Don’t you see? We can be happy together. We’ll start over. We’re young. We can do it. As long as I have you beside me, nothing can go wrong, because whatever the world throws at us, we have what really matters.’

I unclasped his hands as gently as I could and withdrew my own. I hoped he hadn’t noticed the shaky breath I took and how my hands trembled. He almost had me there. Almost. If only it were really that simple. I would be his girl. And he would be my boy.

It would be wonderful. But it would only be a dream.

Henley only knew a part of what was happening. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into. I had to make the decision for both of us.

‘You can’t give up on what we have,’ Henley said. ‘This is different. My feelings towards you … Most people spend a lifetime searching for what we have and some don’t even find it in that time. Some people, like my … father … find it but then lose it. What we have is pure magic, something that surpasses love. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing.’ He fell silent, for I’d turned away from him and was tightening the girth on Thunder’s saddle.

‘You’re serious.’ His voice sounded incredulous. ‘I can’t believe you’re willing to throw away what we have. I thought this was what you wanted. I had to play the silly game of making it look as though I was planning to go through with the marriage to Christine because that’s what everyone was expecting. But now, you see, with the old man gone, his house gone – it’s a chance for a fresh start, Rebecca. And I want to start over with you. Christine won’t want to start over with me from scratch; she’s full of tradition and stupidity. And I certainly don’t want her – I never have. I’m so sorry if you ever believed I’d go through with that—’

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