42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

J ames Ayles, Baron Hastings, jolted awake at the first cry of 'Fire!' His heart hammered against his ribs as he leapt from his bed. The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils, and his mind raced with a single, all-consuming thought: his girls and Evelyn.

He burst into the hallway, the heat already oppressive. Smoke billowed through the corridors, obscuring his vision. Servants rushed past him, their faces contorted with fear. James pushed against the tide of fleeing bodies, his eyes searching desperately for his family.

Halfway up the grand staircase, small hands grasped his. Augusta and Julia, their nightgowns smudged with soot, clung to him. Relief washed over him for a brief moment.

'Father, we're all right,' Augusta said, her voice steady despite the chaos.

Julia tugged at his sleeve. 'But Evelyn's still inside! She's trapped!'

The words struck James like a physical blow. His vision narrowed, the world around him fading away save for the path back up the stairs.

'Time to be brave, girls,' the Baron said, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. 'Take care of each other. Run to get the steward, and tell him to raise the alarm. Out—now!'

Without a second thought, he turned and bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time. James' lungs burned as he pushed through the thickening smoke. The heat seared his skin, but he pressed on, driven by a force he couldn't name. Fear? Love? Both coursed through him as he raced towards Evelyn's room.

James's heart thundered in his chest, each beat a reminder of what he stood to lose. The thought of Evelyn, trapped and alone, consumed him. He couldn't bear it—not again. Not after everything.

The corridor ahead blazed with angry flames, blocking his path to Evelyn's door. Acrid smoke stung his eyes and burned his lungs, but James refused to yield. He spun on his heel, his mind racing. There had to be another way.

His gaze fell upon the locked door to the West Wing. Without hesitation, he threw his shoulder against it. The wood splintered under his assault, giving way with a groan of protest. James stumbled into the burnt-out shell of his past.

Charred beams and crumbling plaster surrounded him, a grim reminder of the night he'd lost his wife. But now wasn't the time for old ghosts. Evelyn needed him.

James pressed on, navigating the treacherous terrain as swiftly as he dared. His feet found familiar paths through the ruins, muscle memory guiding him where his eyes failed. He ducked under fallen timbers and vaulted over piles of debris, driven by a desperate urgency.

The heat intensified with each step, sweat pouring down his face and back. James coughed violently, his lungs screaming for clean air. But he couldn't stop. Not now. Not when he was so close.

As he rounded a corner, he found what he was looking for: the room that had once belonged to his wife, the Baroness.

James stumbled into the burnt-out room, his eyes stinging from the smoke. The heat pressed against him like a living thing, but he forced himself to focus. Evelyn was close—he could feel it.

His gaze swept the room, memories threatening to overwhelm him. He pushed them aside, zeroing in on the wall that separated this chamber from Evelyn's. To his surprise, it felt cool beneath his palm.

'Evelyn!' he shouted, his voice hoarse. 'Can you hear me?'

No response came, but James refused to give up. His fingers traced the wall, searching for the outline of the old connecting door. It had to be here somewhere—this room had once been his wife's, and Evelyn's chamber her dressing room.

At last, his hand found a slight indentation. The door. James's heart leapt.

'Hold on, Evelyn!' he called out. 'I'm coming!'

He threw his weight against the hidden door, but it refused to budge. Gritting his teeth, James stepped back and slammed his shoulder into it. Pain lanced through him, but he ignored it. Again and again, he hurled himself at the obstruction.

With a resounding crack, the door finally gave way. James stumbled through, coughing as a fresh wave of smoke hit him. He found himself in Evelyn's room, the space filled with choking fumes.

To his right, he saw Evelyn's bed pushed up against the wall, blocking the door he'd just forced open. On the other side of the room, flames licked at the main entrance, trapping them both.

James's eyes swept the room frantically, his heart pounding in his chest. There, by the window, he spotted Evelyn. She swayed on her feet, her hands feebly grasping at the latch. Without a moment's hesitation, James lunged forward, snatching a heavy brass candlestick from a nearby table.

"Stand back!" he shouted, his voice hoarse from the smoke.

Evelyn stumbled away from the window, her eyes wide and unfocused. James swung the candlestick with all his might, shattering the glass. The cool night air rushed in, a blessed relief from the stifling heat.

James dropped the candlestick and reached for Evelyn, his hands trembling as he grasped her shoulders. She felt so fragile beneath his touch, as if she might crumble at any moment. Gently, he guided her towards the broken window.

"Breathe, Evelyn," he urged, positioning her face near the opening. "Deep breaths of fresh air. That's it."

She inhaled shakily, coughing as her lungs cleared. James held her steady, his own breathing ragged. He watched her intently, relief flooding through him as colour slowly returned to her pale cheeks.

Evelyn's eyes focused on him, recognition dawning. "James," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackling flames.

Before James could respond, Evelyn threw her arms around him, clinging to him as if he were her only lifeline. He held her tightly, burying his face in her smoke-scented hair. For a moment, the world beyond them ceased to exist. There was only Evelyn, alive and safe in his arms.

James held Evelyn close, savouring the feel of her in his arms. For a moment, the world beyond them ceased to exist. There was only Evelyn, alive and safe.

She pulled back suddenly, her eyes wide with concern. "What are you doing here?"

James opened his mouth to respond, but Evelyn cut him off, her voice urgent. "You need to leave, get out! It's too dangerous!"

The Baron shook his head, his grip on her shoulders tightening. "I'm not leaving without you," he said firmly. "It's my turn to rescue you."

Evelyn's expression softened, a mixture of exasperation and affection crossing her face. "You foolish man," she murmured, but there was love in her voice.

James felt his heart swell as Evelyn placed her hand in his. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, marvelling at how small and delicate it felt in his own rough palm.

"Together, then," he said, tugging her gently towards the broken wall.

They stepped through the opening, into the charred remains of the West Wing. James felt Evelyn stiffen beside him, no doubt taking in the devastation for the first time. He guided her forward, careful to keep her close as they navigated the treacherous terrain.

The heat pressed in around them, and James could hear the ominous creaking of weakened beams above. He quickened their pace, his eyes darting about for the safest path through the ruins. Evelyn stumbled once, and he caught her, steadying her against his side.

"Almost there," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

As they neared the exit, a loud crack echoed through the air. James looked up to see a burning beam falling towards them. Without thinking, he tucked Evelyn beneath himself, curling around her to shield her. The beam caught on a pillar, hovering just feet above them.

"Don't stop," the Baron said, nudging Evelyn forward. Blindly, she reached back and took his hand, and at last, they tumbled out into the night air.

James stumbled onto the front lawn, his lungs burning as he gulped in the cool night air. Evelyn clung to his arm, coughing and trembling beside him. The roar of the fire behind them was deafening, but James could hear shouts and cries from the growing crowd of onlookers.

His eyes swept over the scene, taking in the faces of his servants and nearby farmers who had come to help. Relief washed over him as he spotted Julia and Augusta pushing through the throng, their eyes wide with fear and relief.

"Father! Evelyn!" they cried in unison, rushing towards them.

James felt a surge of protectiveness as the crowd pressed in around them. "Attend to Miss Bane," he ordered, his voice hoarse from the smoke. "She needs air."

A farmer's wife stepped forward, draping a rough woollen blanket around Evelyn's shoulders. James watched as Evelyn's trembling fingers clutched at the fabric, her face pale in the flickering firelight.

To his left, James saw a bucket line forming, men and women passing pails of water with grim determination. Others were dashing in and out of the house, arms laden with furniture, paintings, and whatever else they could salvage from the flames.

James turned back to the burning manor, his ancestral home crackling and groaning as the fire consumed it. He felt torn, knowing he should be leading the efforts to save what they could, but reluctant to leave Evelyn's side.

As if sensing his inner conflict, Evelyn's hand found his. He looked down at her, meeting her gaze. She nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. James felt a swell of emotion in his chest, marvelling at how well she knew him already.

Without a word, James leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It was a brief kiss, but filled with all the things he couldn't say in that moment - his relief, his love, his gratitude.

As he pulled away, James saw Evelyn gather Julia and Augusta under her arms, holding them close. The sight of them together, safe and whole, gave him the strength he needed to turn back towards the inferno.

***

E velyn clutched the girls tightly, feeling their small bodies tremble against her. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air, stinging her eyes and throat. Her gaze darted anxiously between the burning house and the men rushing about, their shouts barely audible over the roar of the flames.

Her heart leapt into her throat each time James disappeared into the inferno. She held her breath until he emerged, his broad shoulders straining under the weight of furniture and precious heirlooms. His face was streaked with soot, his eyes wild with determination.

"Papa!" Julia cried out as James vanished once more into the smoke-filled doorway.

Evelyn squeezed the girl's shoulder. "Hush, darling. Your father knows what he's doing."

But even as the words left her lips, Evelyn felt a twinge of doubt. The fire seemed to grow more ferocious with each passing moment, consuming the house with terrifying speed.

A thunderous crack split the air. Evelyn gasped as a portion of the roof caved in, sending a shower of sparks into the night sky. Augusta buried her face in Evelyn's skirts, sobbing quietly.

"Where is he?" Evelyn murmured, scanning the chaos for any sign of James.

The seconds stretched into an eternity. Evelyn's chest tightened, her mind racing with horrific possibilities. She wanted to rush forward, to call out for him, but she couldn't abandon the girls.

Just as despair threatened to overwhelm her, a figure emerged from the billowing smoke. James staggered out, coughing violently, a large gilt-framed portrait clutched to his chest.

Relief flooded through Evelyn, so intense it made her knees weak. She longed to run to him, to throw her arms around him and never let go. But she remained rooted to the spot, holding the girls as they cried out in joy at their father's return.

Evelyn's eyes darted across the chaotic scene, her heart still racing from the terror of the fire. Amidst the flickering shadows and frantic activity, a flash of white caught her attention. There, at the edge of the firelight, stood a familiar figure.

Nell.

The maid's face was a mask of fury and fear as their gazes locked. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Evelyn's mind reeled, piecing together the horrifying truth. Nell had done this. She had started the fire, endangering not just Evelyn, but the girls and James as well. She glared at Evelyn, a bundle in her arms—either pilfered goods or her own belongings, all wrapped up in a heavy wool cloak.

A surge of rage coursed through Evelyn's veins. Her hands trembled as she gripped the girls' shoulders tightly.

"Stay right here," she commanded, her voice low and urgent. "Don't move a single inch. Do you understand?"

The girls nodded, wide-eyed and confused.

As soon as Evelyn released them, Nell turned and fled, her white chemise stark in the darkness as she raced towards the darkness beyond the estate.

Without a second thought, Evelyn gave chase. Her feet pounded against the damp grass, her lungs burning from the smoke and exertion. She barely noticed the brambles tearing at her nightgown or the cold night air against her skin. All that mattered was catching Nell, making her pay for what she'd done.

"Stop!" Evelyn shouted, her voice raw with anger and desperation. "Nell!"

But the maid didn't slow. She darted between trees, leaping over fallen logs with surprising agility. Evelyn pushed herself harder, ignoring the protest of her muscles. She couldn't let Nell escape, not after she'd put everything Evelyn held dear in jeopardy.

As they raced deeper into the woods, the sounds of the fire and the shouts from the estate grew fainter. Evelyn's world narrowed to the pounding of her heart and the fleeing figure ahead of her. She'd never felt such fury, such determination. This woman had tried to destroy her chance at happiness, had risked innocent lives for her own selfish desires.

Evelyn gritted her teeth and pressed on, gaining ground with each stride. It didn't occur to Evelyn that with every foot she gained, she was getting that much closer to a murderer.