15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

E velyn watched the Baron's retreating figure with a mixture of frustration and relief. His constant presence had been both vexing and oddly comforting. She shook her head, banishing such thoughts, and turned her attention back to the girls.

"Miss Evelyn, look how far we've come!" Julia exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with exertion.

Evelyn glanced around, surprised to find herself in unfamiliar surroundings. The path they'd taken wound through a copse of ancient oaks, their gnarled branches stretching overhead. She realised with a start that they had indeed ventured further than ever before.

"I hadn't noticed," she admitted, a hint of pride creeping into her voice. Perhaps she was becoming more accustomed to country life than she'd thought.

Augusta, ever observant, pointed to a gap in the trees. "We're near the canal worksite. Father mentioned they've built a temporary dam."

"Oh, can we go see it?" Julia bounced on her toes, eyes shining with excitement. "Please, Miss Evelyn?"

Evelyn hesitated. The Baron hadn't expressly forbidden them from visiting the worksite, but she wasn't certain he'd approve. Still, it seemed a harmless enough diversion.

"Well, I suppose we could—"

A sudden gust of wind cut her off, whipping her skirts about her legs. Evelyn looked up, her heart sinking as she saw dark clouds gathering on the horizon. The air had taken on that peculiar stillness that often preceded a storm.

"I'm afraid not, girls," she said firmly. "We need to head back immediately."

"But Miss Evelyn—" Julia began to protest.

"No arguments," Evelyn interrupted, her tone brooking no dissent. "Those clouds look ominous, and I'd rather not explain to your father why we're all soaked to the skin."

She ushered the twins back onto the path, quickening their pace. The wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of rain. Evelyn silently cursed her own distraction. How had she not noticed the changing weather?

As they hurried along, she found herself wishing the Baron had stayed with them after all. His steady presence would have been reassuring in the face of the approaching storm. Evelyn shook her head, willing that thought away—she refused to rely on him for something so menial as just making their way home.

Evelyn quickened her pace, urging the girls along as the wind whipped around them with increasing ferocity. The hem of her skirt was already dusted with dirt, but she paid it no mind; her focus solely on getting her charges back to the safety of the manor.

A flash of lightning illuminated the darkening sky, followed by a low rumble of thunder. Julia let out a small yelp, clutching at Evelyn's arm.

"It's all right," Evelyn soothed, though her own heart raced. "We'll be there before you know it."

As they rounded a bend in the lane, Evelyn spotted two figures in the distance, approaching swiftly. Her breath caught in her throat, instinct taking over as she pulled the girls behind her. Who could be out in such weather?

She squinted against the wind, relief flooding through her as recognition dawned. "It's all right, girls," she called over the rising gale. "It's Mr. Smith and Thomas from the house."

The Baron's steward and one of the footmen hurried towards them, concern etched on their faces. Mr. Smith, a thin man with greying whiskers, reached them first. They were both out of breath, clearly having run the whole way from the manor. When they reached Evelyn and the twins, they both bent over double, drawing in great panting breaths. Thomas recovered first, looking behind Evelyn for something.

Evelyn's relief at seeing Mr. Smith and Thomas quickly turned to confusion as Thomas glanced behind her, his brow furrowing.

"Where's the Baron, Miss? Didn't he go walking with you?" Thomas asked, his voice raised to be heard over the wind.

Evelyn frowned, a twinge of guilt pricking at her. She'd been so focused on getting the girls back safely that she'd forgotten about their earlier disagreement. "He'd gone... somewhere," she replied, suddenly realising she had no idea where the Baron had wandered off to. "I'm not entirely sure where."

Augusta stepped forward, shielding her eyes against the grit blown up by the wind. "Father said he was going to Farmer Hawkins' lower field," she stated matter-of-factly.

Evelyn watched as Thomas and Mr. Smith exchanged an alarmed look, their faces paling. The sudden tension in their postures sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the approaching storm.

"What is it?" Evelyn asked, her voice sharp with concern. "What's wrong?"

Evelyn's heart lurched as Mr. Smith cleared his throat, his eyes darting between her and the girls. The wind whipped around them, carrying the first drops of rain.

"Miss Bane," Mr. Smith began, his voice strained, "the dam upstream—it's not holding. Heavy rains have swelled the canal beyond what it can bear."

Evelyn's eyes widened, her mind racing to understand the implications. "But what does that—"

"The Baron," Mr. Smith cut in, his words tumbling out in a rush. "He's down in Hawkins' lower field, right in the path of—" He broke off, casting a worried glance at the girls.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat as understanding dawned. The Baron was in danger, and he had no idea. She looked at Augusta and Julia, their faces a mixture of confusion and growing fear.

"We need to warn him," Evelyn said, her voice steadier than she felt. "How much time do we have?"

Mr. Smith shook his head, his expression grim. "Not long. The workmanship was shoddy—it could give way any moment."

Evelyn's mind raced. She couldn't leave the girls, but the Baron needed to be warned. She turned to Thomas and Mr. Smith, decision made. "Take the girls back to the house, quickly. I will find the Baron."

"But Miss Evelyn—" Julia began to protest.

"Miss, you don't know the way—"

"Surely you can't—"

"No arguments," Evelyn said firmly, her tone leaving no room for debate. "Go with Thomas and Mr. Smith. Now. You two," she said, turning to Thomas and Mr. Smith. "You can scarcely breathe, let alone run that far. Point me in the right direction, and get the girls back to the house at once."

Thomas and Mr. Smith exchanged a weary look, but knew better than to argue with the steely resolve in Evelyn's eyes. Mr. Smith stepped forward, pointing a shaking finger down the muddy lane.

"Follow this path until you reach the fork, then bear left," he instructed, his voice rasping. "Hawkins' lower field butts up against the canal, just past the old willow stand."

Evelyn committed the directions to memory with a sharp nod. Every second mattered.

Thomas, perhaps sensing the gravity of the situation more keenly than the girls, rallied his spirits. "Well now, which of you young ladies fancies a ride back to the house?" he asked, forcing a jovial tone.

Julia looked uncertainly between Evelyn and Thomas, her eyes wide with fear. Augusta simply stared at Evelyn, her expression unreadable.

"Go on, both of you," Evelyn urged, giving them what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll find your father and we'll be along directly."

With a final nod to Mr. Smith and Thomas, Evelyn turned and took off at a brisk trot down the path, her skirt bunched in her fists. Dimly, Evelyn was aware that she was flashing an awful lot of ankle, but such frivolity didn't matter at the moment. The first fat drops of rain spattered against her face, the wind whipping her hair into a frenzy.

Her heart pounded in her ears, the gravity of the situation crashing over her like the impending storm. The Baron was in grave danger, unaware of the peril bearing down upon him. Evelyn's steps faltered for the briefest moment as the reality of it struck her—if the dam burst, the deluge could easily sweep him away.

Gritting her teeth, she pressed on, her pace increasing to a flat-out run. The path grew muddier underfoot, the rain falling in thick sheets now. Evelyn's breathing came in ragged gasps, her lungs burning, but she dared not slow.

A flash of lightning cracked across the sky, momentarily illuminating her surroundings in stark relief. She squinted against the downpour, finally spying the fork in the road ahead. Veering left as Mr. Smith had instructed, she followed the path as it curved through a dense copse of trees.

The old willow stand loomed ahead, its twisted branches swaying violently in the wind. Evelyn's steps faltered as she spotted the dark shape of the canal cutting across the field beyond. Even from this distance, she could see the swollen waters churning angrily, straining against the makeshift dam.

"Baron!" she screamed, her voice nearly drowned out by the howling storm. "Baron Hastings!"

There was no response, no sign of movement amidst the sheets of rain. Fear gripped her heart in an icy vice. Where was he?