Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The duke felt elated that she felt the way he did for her. He had played this moment in his head over and over. Never did it compare to the immense joy coursing through him. The voyage they had spoken about would now be an engagement celebration and not only to get their families together. He still held her hand in his. He had thought that he would never put a ring on a woman's finger.

After Emma had left, who could he trust? The very person who had sworn to always love him, had left him without much consideration. With this woman by his side, he had confidence that she would. Stay there.

I just hope she will not despise me when she finds out that I've hidden one more thing from her! The duke thought as he looked at her. As she stared down at the ring, he could not tell how she felt.

"If you do not like it, My Lady. We can go back to the jewelers and we can exchange it."

"No never. I do not want to remove it, let alone exchange it, Your Grace. It is the most splendidly beautiful thing I have seen in my life, thank you," she said, as happy tears streamed down her face.

"I thought that about you, My Lady. The night we met," he said.

"And I thought how fortunate I was to have been rescued by such a handsome gentleman," she replied.

"I also thought that it would be more romantic if I were to have a ring already when I asked you. I chose this one as it reminded me of your eyes," he explained to her. He felt nervous each time he spoke to her plainly about his feelings. Each time she had encouraged him, he had thought of how the pain of her eventual rejection would be.

"It is perfect, Your Grace."

Henry moved back to his seat and looked at all the food he had brought.

"The sun is getting low in the sky, My Lady. I shall have to plan a picnic to make up for this picnic," he said, feeling too disappointed to hide it.

"I think we could eat and talk further, Your Grace. This picnic has, after all become our private celebration."

He watched as Bethany spread cheese onto a slice of honey bread. "Besides it has been a few hours since lunch. This is practically a starter to dinner."

"You do not think it unwise to stay here until dark, My Lady?" he asked.

"We do not have to stay that long, Your Grace. We should have another hour or two at the very least before sunset," she said, before taking a small bite and closing her eyes to relish the flavor. "Besides, I have such a strong man at my side that I fear more for anyone who is on the wrong side of you." He couldn't miss her look of admiration.

"In that case, My Lady. You have my full attention," he said with a smile.

"Good." She returned his smile. "I hope that from now on, I will be the only woman who has your full attention, Your Grace."

"Certainly, My Lady. Come to think of it. Since we are engaged. I believe we can drop the honorific, My… Bethany." He said her name as if trying out the sound of it. "If you look I had the ring inscribed with your name." He was unable to contain his excitement. He had hoped she would like the gesture. As he watched her, she seemed to have had an uncertainty break her joyous mood.

"That is lovely, Your… Henry, thank you, that is so thoughtful. I must admit, saying your name is strange," she said, as she took her ring off to look for the inscription.

"It is refreshing to hear something other than Your Grace," Henry replied.

He had so few people who were close to him. He was addressed more by his title than his name for most of his thirty-six years.

"I suppose it is rather awkward, as we will be married soon." Bethany said after she had taken a moment to finish yet another slice of bread.

They sat there until the first star started to shine in the night sky. They then packed their picnic and took it to the carriage. The voyage back home seemed a world away from when they had left home in the morning. He was under the impression that asking her would not change anything. It had done the complete opposite and had made him love her more, want to protect her even more than ever before.

"Would you like dinner? Or would you join me for tea before we retire for the night?" He liked that he could now make plans with her, and not only entertain her as a guest.

"I am most definitely not in need of more food. However, I shall like to join you for tea," his betrothed replied as she put her hand on her stomach to indicate how full she was.

They arrived home to find that two letters had arrived for him while they had been away. A man servant handed them to him on a platter, along with a letter opener, as soon as he reached the entrance to the house. He held them in his hand and first escorted Bethany to her chambers to change into evening attire.

He then opened them as he made his way to his study room.

Dearest brother

I hereby wish to inform you that I shall be staying with you at the beginning of next month. There are family matters we need to discuss.

Edward III

The duke crumpled the letter and threw it as far away from him as he could as the memories flooded back.

His father had refused his higher title, as he had not been allowed to marry Henry's mother and remain king. She had been born of a lower pedigree. It was a decision Henry had honored. His uncle had become king but had no heirs. Since Henry was proud of his father's title, he was happy to be duke. Henry's younger brother now had what was meant to be his birthright He only made contact with Henry when he needed help or to escape from the difficult duties bestowed upon him.

He looked to the second letter that was addressed to Lady Wentworth. He went to find it to give it to her. She was busy with George who had grown bigger.

"You do know he will not be joining us for much longer in the carriage at the rate he is growing," he said in good humor as he handed the letter to her. He watched as she opened it. He did not want to infringe on her privacy, he wanted to ensure there was nothing the matter.

She broke the seal on the letter and began to read. "It is from my stepsister, my stepmother has fallen ill." She wore a troubled look on her face.

"I am sorry." He was not sure how to respond otherwise. He knew that they had a tense relationship and he knew her better than to react in an unsavory manner.

"Thank you, Your Grace," she said sadly.

"I shall get a carriage ready for you first thing tomorrow morning. I thought we had decided to call each other by our given names," he teased, as he tried to elevate her worries.

"I do not think that would be wise, Your… Henry," she said without looking at him. "She and my sister will not be happy to see me. It is better that I stay here and send a letter."

"Bethany, I am certain your father would appreciate you being there," he replied, making sure she thought about it, and would not have any regrets.

"You do not understand. We are not a family having a bit of a disagreement. They are not my real family, and they remind me of that at every opportunity." He heard a hint of irritation in her tone.

"I do try to understand. I simply do not want you to regret not going," he replied.

"What you want is of little consequence in this instance. I have made my decision," she snapped back.

Why is she so maddened. I only want the best for her and now she is furious with me! The duke was perplexed.

"Well then I shall not bother involving myself with your business," he said, as he felt his anger grow.

Keep calm, she is merely in shock! Though it does not give her the right to speak to me like this! The kind and unkind voices battled in his mind. The hurt she had caused by her sudden change in personality had given him pause.

"Please calm down. I know you are upset right now." He tried to soothe her in a calmer voice.

"Oh Henry, I do apologize. It is just that I know it is the right thing to do, to go over there. But I had made myself ready to never see that place again, it is just too soon," she said softly. She had only looked up at him when she had snapped at him. He bent down to try to see her face and she looked up at him. The tears falling down her cheeks caused the duke to have a visceral reaction to her grief.

He cupped her face as his thumbs gently wiped her tears away. "I loathe to see you upset, My Lady." He said the last words to mean his and not just her deserved honorific. He tilted her head slowly, he needed to look into her eyes. When he did it was worse than he had thought.

The naked pain and heartbreak shone brightly in her eyes. He knew that he could not be happy again until she was.

"Tell me what you need, anything… it is yours," he offered, not remotely bothered that she may ask for something he would not want to give her.

I would reach out into the heavens and present her with the stars, only to see her happy again. If only I could. He waited for her reply.

"I do not know what to do, even less what I need," she replied.

"I am here no matter what," he said.

"Thank you." She smiled, sadly.

"Your Grace! Fire!" A man servant came running toward them at full speed. They turned toward the servant, and the estate, to see the stables engulfed in flames. They had the entire building in its grasp, the tall flames licking up at the sky.

"Go to the house. Make sure it is safe first," he said to beloved, before he ran off with the servant, as quickly as his legs would carry him.

If the fire spreads further the house will be burned down before we can get water that far. He willed his aching muscles to propel him forward faster. His chest burned and his breath became more ragged.

My father built those stables, he thought in dismay, as it seemed to take an eternity to get there. He could see servants frantically running with buckets of water from the river. The duke held onto the first bucket he could find and started running back and forth with water. Every time he went for more water, he got more and more stuck in the mud.

On the one turn, when he had gotten water and was on his way to the stables, he tripped and fell in an awkward way. He got up and grabbed his bucket. He faintly registered that his ankle seemed to have twisted. He ignored the pain, fueled by his desire to save what his father had built. So he soldiered on.

Chapter 17

Charlotte froze in place as she watched Henry's retreating back. The flames he ran toward lit up the evening sky. He had instructed her to go toward the house, making sure it was safe before going in. Old houses like the duke's were still built the old way. Most of the structures were constructed from wood and then built upon that. If one little part of the fire managed to travel to the house, it would be engulfed in minutes.

Charlotte looked from the house to the stables. She could see servants starting to run toward the house to throw water where they could.

Henry will be fine at the stables. I need to take charge of the house! Charlotte thought as she lifted the front of her dress to her waist to allow her better movement. She ran toward the house as quickly as her frantic feet could take her.

"Bring the barrels closer!" Charlotte yelled as she got to the house. "If that fire makes it across the field, it will take the house."

Three men ran toward the water cart. They pushed and pulled at it with all their might. It did not move. Charlotte went over to them. "Go to the stables and see if the two horses that were housed there made it. If the duke allows it, tell him I require one and rush back. It should be able to pull the cart." She had to yell over the sounds of people screaming and running around.

"Yes, ma'am," the man said. before he ran to the stables. Charlotte helped get buckets to the river and started to splash water all along the grass that grew near the house. Every time she would fill a bucket, her arms would become more tired. Her hair stuck to her forehead, and her dress restricted her movements. The fabric had gotten wet at the bottom, and she felt like she was becoming like a lead weight.

Charlotte grabbed at her dress in exasperation and tore the skirt part off. The petticoat she had on underneath provided a lightweight cover that made her smile with relief. Soon, the servant returned, riding one horse and holding the reins of another to the side of him. Charlotte went to the other horse and tried to jump on. She had almost succeeded only to slide back down.

"We do not have the time for this!" Charlotte said in frustration. "Take them both to the cart. Once they are ready, I need someone on the back of the cart to wet this side of the house and then go to assist the duke," Charlotte told the manservant, who was joined by two others, who ran beside him and the horses to the cart.

The estate used copious amounts of water to ensure all was clean and bright at all times. Several rooms had linens and curtains that were washed weekly. The duke's clothes as well as the servant's uniform were washed at the estate. Then there was cooking and bathing and water used for the garden.

The cart had been built to transport large amounts of water to them. Their remote location meant they had few of the modern conveniences of those who lived in the towns. Charlotte watched as the cart came past with both horses pulling the weight.

I wish we had a hand tub for this instead of a few old barrels! Charlotte thought as she, on a whim, ran closer to the cart as it came nearer. She hopped on board and sat down. The uneven terrain made them bounce from one side to the next. Charlotte held on to the side with such force that her knuckles turned white. They made it over the small hill that stood almost as a wall on the property and cut through most of the land. It was faster than going around.

They arrived at the stables where the flames had gotten bigger. "Take them back to the house!" Charlotte yelled over the sound of the horses' panicked snorts. Their hooves came down with force as they reared up, trying to escape being so close to the flames again.

"It is alright," Charlotte said to the horses. She stepped closer to them as slowly as she could afford to at the moment. "I will not let you get hurt," Charlotte said as she put a hand on each of the horses.

Once they had calmed, it was easier to loosen them from the cart. The manservant took the horses to the house as instructed, while Charlotte ran to find Henry.

"Why are you here? It is not safe!" Henry shouted when Charlotte found him.

"I came with more water!" She yelled back. "We can argue this at another time. Currently, we need to get this more under control!"

The duke looked at her for a moment before he went to get the cart closer. "Where are the horses?" He asked, looking back at her.

"They were too afraid. I sent them to the house and asked that they send more people." Charlotte replied, as the duke handed the bucket he had used to her and went to help with the cart.

Charlotte took the bucket and started to gather water from the river. She ran up and down as quickly as her tired legs could cope with.

After a while, she looked over her shoulder now and then, hoping they had the cart ready. Every time she threw water into the fire, it made a sizzling sound and did not do anything to lessen the blaze. The idea was that they had many wooden barrels on the cart. They held a greater capacity than the buckets by tenfold or more. They would use the same hill to roll the barrels downhill toward the stables.

"The momentum should propel them against the barn where the wood should shatter, releasing the water," Charlotte yelled her explanation as Henry and several servants pulled the cart closer.

"Are… you sure it is… steep enough ?" Henry yelled back. The strain of pushing the cart interrupted his speech.

"I hope so!" Charlotte replied, still running for water.

"Take it over to the hill and get them to the top. I shall be there shortly!" He said to the servants. They doubled their efforts as Henry started to help Charlotte with a bigger bucket.

"You have done this before?" He asked her.

"Put out a fire? A few times." She replied, wiping her brow with her sleeve.

"No, the barrels," he clarified.

"I can not say that I have. I just know those flames are unlike anything I have ever seen before. So we shall have to fight them in a way that has never been seen before." Charlotte said as she stopped for a moment to catch her breath.

"Well then, let us go test this experiment of yours." He said, offering his hand to her. She took it, and they ran together toward the hill. Despite the gravity of the situation, when he looked at her, she could not help but smile at him.

Something inside her that had lain asleep for so long awakened. A part of herself she thought she had lost. She found a brief moment of whimsy running through the wildflowers as she had when she had been a young girl. Even if they were in a dangerous situation.

The servants had gotten two barrels up the hill and were ready to push the first one down the hill. Charlotte and Henry held on to the barrel as it lay on its side.

"We release and push with all our might on my go!" Henry shouted. He looked at Charlotte and then toward the stables. "Go! Push, push harder!" Henry shouted as they pushed the barrel to get it going. The barrel went hurtling toward the stables. Charlotte lifted her arms above her head in anticipation.

It lost momentum and stopped short of the barn.

"We go again. This time, I need you two to run with it and steer it," he said to the two men next to him. They stood ready, and this time, when they let go of the barrel, the two men ran alongside it, both steering it and pushing at it when they could propel it faster down the hill.

This time, it shattered against the corner of the stables, splashing water everywhere. Charlotte and Henry erupted into cheers. They set the next barrel ready and continued in this fashion for nearly half an hour before the flames were truly under control.

Henry suddenly picked Charlotte up in his arms for an embrace. When they slowly moved away from one another, he looked into her eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. "You are quite extraordinary, Bethany," he said. Charlotte felt as though a knife twisted in her heart. He may be looking at her, but he thought she was someone she was not. It was not merely a name.

"Thank you." That was all Charlotte could manage to say. The lies took every precious moment between them and twisted it.

They carried more barrels up the hill. They all landed true, smashing against the stables, splashing water in all directions. Soon, they were able to get close enough to put out the remaining flames. Charlotte stood as smoke bellowed from what was left of the stables.

"We shall only be able to see the true extent of the damage after the smoke has cleared," Henry said.

"I am so sorry, Henry. The stables must have been in your family for some time," Charlotte said with regret.

"My father and I built it when I was a small lad. It was the first time that he let me work with him. Before then, he had told me it was too dangerous." His eyes looked at her but were far away. He seemed lost in memories.

"Please go on. I would like to hear about your father." Charlotte said carefully, not wanting to cause him pain by bringing the past to the present.

"He was born into privilege, yet he yearned to see what life was like for everyone. He disliked being cooped up with servants, so he would sneak out and go into town. He did it for years. They only found out once he had met my mother and had wanted to marry her." He finished with a look of sadness.

"What did they say when he found out about her?" Charlotte asked.

"My grandparents would not allow him to marry beneath his standing. They gave him a choice, thinking it would bring him to his senses. He walked away from it all and married my mother. He had claim to the land and built the house with his hands. I was about eight or nine when my father and I built these stables. At first, he did not want me to help, afraid that I would injure myself." Henry said.

"You proved him wrong and did a fantastic job?" Charlotte offered when he fell silent.

"Well, not exactly." He admitted with a sly grin. "I might have fallen from the roof after hitting my hand with the hammer," he admitted and laughed at Charlotte's look of disbelief. "He showed her his still crooked index finger. "My mother liked horses, though it was more than that. She had a way of working with them. She could get sick horses well and wild horses tamed. These stables had been a birthday surprise for her." He looked away.

"Oh, Henry, I am so sorry this happened. Perhaps we could rebuild it from what is left?" Charlotte said with hope.

"We may be able to." He said, with little enthusiasm. "I think it is best we go clean up and settle in for the night. We will be able to see the full extent of the damage in the morning."

"I am rather tired after that and look at the state of me," Charlotte bemoaned as she lifted her torn and tattered dress to show how dirty and damaged it had gotten.

"We will get you a new dress, My Lady," Henry said with a smile. "I do not think you could look any better," he said. She had noticed that although they had decided to use each other's name, he now used hers as an endearment.

"Your grace, dresses I have. It is the stables that concern me." Charlotte said as they started to walk back to the estate.

"Would you join me for tea?" He asked.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Charlotte said as she noticed how thirsty and tired she was. They had seen the fire in the late afternoon, and it was well after sunset. She was glad for the lovely tea they had before they had arrived home. Charlotte followed Henry to his study and sat on the chair he offered.

"Do we know what started the fire?" Charlotte asked. She knew that the tea might be more of a distraction from what had just happened. To Charlotte, it was a necessity to figure something out if it made little to no sense to her.

"The most logical deduction would be that a lamp was lit and left unattended. The dry bedding and old wood would have stood no chance," Henry said with a sigh.

"It is just that…" Charlotte started to say.

"What is it, My Lady? Do not be afraid to speak your mind to me, please." He moved closer to her.

"I did not think much of it at the time. I have encountered my fair share of odd people." Charlotte tried to start an explanation. She looked at Henry, who was searching her face, confusion shining in his eyes and furrowed brow. "In the maze when I had gotten lost… a man spoke to me. He had a very deep voice. He said something about you and said that I was in danger of being here." Charlotte said slowly and watched his reaction.

Henry nodded. "Did you recognize the man?" He asked.

"No, he wore a musketeer's hat that hid his features. I do not know that voice. I would have remembered a person with a voice like that," Charlotte said, blinking as she tried to recall more detail.

"And you think that he had something to do with the fire? I am not sure that I see the connection," Henry replied.

"I know I can not offer enough evidence to support it. The way he spoke to me felt as though it was a threat. My mind went to him when I started to think about what had happened," Charlotte defended herself.

"Did he hurt you, My Lady?" Henry asked with a grave expression on his face.

"Not at all. He said a few words, and when you found me, he had left. I apologize for not telling you sooner. I did not think it mattered that much. Furthermore, I have, as I say, met rather odd people before and thought he might have an affliction of the mind." Charlotte said as she reached for his hands. For the briefest moment, it seemed as though he moved away from her before letting her take his hand in hers.

It was to be expected. He needed time to think about her words. What devastated her was how much it would have hurt if he had pulled away from her completely. The small hesitancy in his actions already caused an ache in her chest.

"You say he had a unique voice. What did you mean by that?" Henry asked.

"It was the deepest voice I had ever heard. It was almost unnaturally so." Charlotte replied.

"And it sounds like it comes from all directions?" Henry asked, looking suddenly pale.

"Yes! My goodness, how did you know? Henry, are you alright? You look rather poorly," Charlotte asked with growing concern.

"I am quite fine, My Lady. It is just that the only man I know with a voice like that… was my father."