Chapter 16

"Montford Manor?" the man repeated upon being told the location of the window in question. "No, I'm afraid that I don't have the time to go there. There are too many broken windows in the village needing my attention."

Rose frowned. "Really?"

"Yes," the man confirmed. "Why don't you try somewhere else?"

"I have already tried somewhere else," she replied in an annoyed tone of voice. "You and I both know that there are only two glass repairers in the entire village. And you two both seem equally reluctant to change a window just because it belongs to the Duke of Montford."

The man shrugged unapologetically. "It would seem that we are both just overly busy."

"Yes, overly busy," Rose replied, equally unapologetically, as she left the man's store and exited onto the street.

She sighed heavily. She never thought that mending a single window, something seemingly so simple, would prove to be an impossible task. Yet, it was. She looked at the big clock in the village square, and it urged her to hurry. She promised she would be returning to work a little after the sermon, and she had already wasted enough time. Fortunately, she left the duke a message.

As she was still wondering how she could go about helping with the window, a commotion erupted on the street. She glanced around, noticing people pointing and murmuring anxiously. Following their gazes, she saw smoke rising in the direction of Montford Manor. She gasped silently as the worst images flashed before her eyes.

Without thinking, she started running towards the estate, refusing to stop for anyone or anything. She needed to make sure that William was safe. She felt as if she were running for an eternity, her legs becoming incredibly painful, then numb, allowing her to continue. The distance seemed interminable, and every step filled her with dread.

Finally, as she approached Montford Manor, the sight of the smoke thickening above the barn confirmed her worst fears. She quickened her pace, her legs burning with effort. When she reached the barn, the acrid smell of burning hay and wood assaulted her senses.

"William?" she called out his name, although the sounds of burning fire crackled all around her. She could barely hear her own voice.

Narrowing her eyes in an effort to see through the smoke, her eyes caught a hopeful sight. Mr. Trent had William propped upon his own back, dragging him out of the burning barn, with the help of a very worried-looking Mr. Hancock. The sight of William's limp form sent a jolt of terror through her. She rushed over, dropping to her knees next to him, tears welling in her eyes.

"William, please be all right," she whispered, completely forgetting all about propriety and the need to refer to him by his title. She reached out to touch his face, now pale and smudged with soot.

"Mr. Trent, we need to put out the fire!" Mr. Hancock gave strict instructions, and Mr. Trent immediately obliged. There was no time to waste as the two men rushed to fetch buckets of water, aided by several other servants who had seen the commotion from the other side of the mansion, and immediately came to help.

She lifted her gaze, following the small group of men as they bravely joined efforts in subduing the fire. They rushed to fill the buckets, splashing them onto the roaring, red tongues, which seemed to reach the very skies, refusing to bow down to their efforts. She knew that they needed to act fast, otherwise the fire might spread to the other parts of the estate, most frighteningly, to the mansion itself. She shuddered at the thought.

Hastily, she looked down at William's face, his eyes closed as if he were merely resting. She knew that he must have inhaled a lot of smoke. Perhaps a physician was needed even, but what if the same thing happened as with the glass repairer? What if the physician refused to come and treat the monster of Montford Manor?

Anger surged through her, anger aimed at the world and those she had lived with all this time. But for the man whose head rested in her lap, all she had was tenderness and affection. She caressed his cheek, her heart racing with worry. She wanted to shake him awake, to have him open his eyes and smile at her, but he was still unconscious.

"William…" she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, "please, wake up…"

As he remained unresponsive, she leaned closer, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. She traced her fingers over the scars that marred his skin, her touch gentle and soothing. He had never looked more handsome to her than at that moment. She drank in the sight of him, unable to stop caressing him, to stop kissing his forehead tenderly, almost as if every kiss might be the last one.

"You are going to be all right," she whispered again, lowering her head to his. "I am here with you. You are safe. Just… open your eyes."

She lifted her gaze for a moment to glance at the barn. It seemed that the men were starting to handle the fire, managing to extinguish it almost completely. Her eyes darted from one man to the next, when suddenly, they locked with Mr. Trent's. He seemed slightly confused.

She attributed it to the fact that he was probably trying to remember if he knew her and from where. But that didn't matter at that moment. Nothing mattered but William. She quickly lowered her gaze back down, continuing to stroke William's cheek, her fingers trailing lightly over his beautiful features.

Seconds passed, feeling as long as entire hours as she waited for any sign of response from William. She refused to give up hope, clinging to the belief that he would soon awaken.

"You have to wake up," she told him gently, her lips lingering just above his forehead. "Just follow the sound of my voice. Let it be your guide…"

And then, as if in response to her whispered plead, she felt a faint stirring beneath her touch. William's eyelids fluttered, his breathing becoming slightly less labored.

"Rose?" he murmured, his voice coarse and faint.

Relief flooded through her at the sound of his voice. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered words of reassurance.

"Yes, it's me," she said softly. "You are going to be all right, William. Just focus on your breathing and stay with me."

William's hand found hers, his fingers curling weakly around hers. His eyes opened fully, and she could see the faint glimmer of consciousness returning to them.

"Rose…" he whispered again; his voice barely audible. He said it like a prayer, his voice flowing right into the most forgotten recesses of her heart and nestling there forever. She knew that she would never be able to forget the sound of his voice as he called out to her at that moment.

She squeezed his hand gently, her heart overflowing with relief and gratitude. She knew that everyone was watching them now. And they were being far too intimate for a duke and a maid, but none of that mattered right now. They were just William and Rose, and she knew he needed her. That was all she needed to know, not to be embarrassed to have him hold her hand or kiss his forehead.

"I'm right here," she whispered back. "I am not going anywhere."

She smiled with much effort, but it was a smile that lit up his entire face. He slowly tried to get up, but almost fell back down.

"Carefully," she urged. "Just… sit first."

He did as she advised, lifting only his upper body, obviously in an effort to clear his thoughts. He pressed his hand to his forehead, blinking heavily.

"Do you know what happened?" she asked, feeling overcome with relief.

"No," he shook his head. "I mean, I don't know, there were some—"

He started, but Mr. Trent's voice didn't allow him to finish. Both William and Rose looked in the direction where the voice was coming from, as Mr. Trent approached them with a hurried step. He bent down, helping William up on his feet, patting him on the shoulder.

"My word, old boy, you had us all worried there for a moment," Mr. Trent spoke with as much relief as Rose. "You know, you were fortunate that I was on my way for a visit, as I promised, so I was nearby when the fire broke out. I rushed inside, shouting for help, and just as I dragged you outside, Mr. Hancock joined me in bringing you to safety."

William's eyes widened in incredulity at what he had just heard. Rose listened with as much disbelief. She couldn't imagine the other scenario, the one where fate did not have Mr. Trent come for a visit. She wondered if Mr. Hancock would arrive in time to save him. She shuddered at the thought of losing this man, although she didn't even have him. Not in the real sense of the word.

"I don't know what to say," William spoke, his voice betraying him.

"I am just happy no one got hurt," Mr. Trent announced importantly, glancing at Rose every once in a while, which she took as an insinuation that he knew something was taking place between her and William. Come to think of it, anyone who was there for the fire could have seen the same. She had betrayed their secret without meaning to and now she was wondering how William would take it.

"You must stay for dinner," William urged. "And spend the night here."

"Oh, no," Mr. Trent shook his head. "I don't wish to cause any trouble."

"You not only haven't caused any trouble, but you have prevented it, Stephen," William reminded him. "Please, allow me to extend my gratitude by being a good host to a good friend. Please…"

"Well, all right then," Mr. Trent finally agreed, once again throwing a casual, but amused glance in Rose's direction.

That time, however, she felt as if William didn't need her any longer. Whatever happened, they would discuss it privately.

She took a step back, addressing William. "Your Grace, I am very happy to see that you are safe and sound. If you do not need me any longer, I shall go and see if Mr. Hancock needs any help."

"Oh, yes… Thank you, Rose," William said, slightly taken aback by her comment, almost having forgotten that she was even there. She attributed it to his disoriented state of mind and didn't take it against him. Instead, she smiled, curtsied and withdrew, leaving the two men alone, while her own troubled mind and heart plagued her beyond recognition.