“Let’s,” Tommy agreed, opening the door. He paused before crossing the threshold. “By the way, Sarah has given me leave to place a bet on you, if you ever decide to fight again. Said the turn up you had with that old bruiser Blackthorn last year was something to behold. Not that she holds with fightin’, mind, but she reckoned there wasn’t a man anywhere to stand against you.”
Edward ran a hand through his hair and returned a rather chagrined expression. “Well, I thank her kindly, and I’ll bear it in mind,” he said. “Only, do me a favour. Don’t repeat that in front of my wife.”
“Done.” Tommy chuckled, and Edward smiled as he knew the fellow completely misunderstood why he’d said it. Far from being angry, Belle would likely sell tickets!
With an amused grin, Edward followed Tommy indoors.
***
One drink had inevitably led to three or four, as the good-natured company of Tommy and Sarah’s respective families were unwilling to let him go without showing him the best of local hospitality. So, Edward found himself in a remarkably mellow frame of mind as he made his way home, the lantern Tommy had lent him swinging in his hand.
It was a fine spring night, chilly, to be sure, but he doubted there would be a frost. The sky was a soft black and lit with stars, a tiny sliver of moon shining, sharp, and crisp as a sabre.
He was looking forward to making up with Belle. He had never yet known her to hold a grudge against him for his bad behaviour, though sometimes he knew well that she ought to. He would find a way to make up for it. Perhaps he should take her to Bath for a few days. She’d had little chance to socialise and perhaps she missed it, hidden away at Longwold, and he knew she enjoyed the theatre. The idea filled him with horror, but he would go to please her. Though in truth, the thought of it wasn’t so appalling as it had used to be, not when he knew that she would be by his side. In fact, the idea of showing his lovely wife off did hold a certain appeal, as long as it was only a few days.
With this happy resolution turning in his brain, it took him a few moments to realise he could smell smoke. The acrid smell of burning hay reached his nostrils, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled with alarm. Good God, if he’d told the stupid buggers not to smoke their pipes around the south barn, he’d said it a thousand times.
Edward quickened his pace, walking as fast as he dared over the uneven ground in the dim light of the lantern.
His hopes that he’d been wrong were dashed as he turned, and where the silhouette of the south barn ought to be, there was only a blaze of light. He felt a surge of relief at seeing the men toiling to put the blaze out, but the smaller, rather dilapidated barn that stood between it and the castle was already beginning to smoke. The men were throwing endless buckets of water against the side that was closest to the blaze, but the heat was so intense that it forced them back.
The only thing they could do was to bring the roof down before the blaze took hold.
Edward ran, scanning the crowds and finding Garrett. His normally pristine butler was in his shirt sleeves, his face blackened with soot, and Edward felt a surge of gratitude that his staff didn’t find such an emergency beneath their dignity. Many of Garrett’s position would have allowed to the labourers to deal with it and stood back and watched.
“Garrett!” he shouted over the roar of the flames and the shouts of the men.
“Lord Winterbourne! Thank heavens,” the man cried with obvious relief.
“Garrett, we need to bring that roof down before that barn is blazing, too. I’ll need a sharp saw, a ladder, as much rope as you can find, and two strong horses.”
“Right away, my lord!” Garrett shouted, and ran off to do his bidding.
Edward ran through the crowd towards the blaze, and saw that it was hopeless. The south barn was beyond saving. Thank God it was spring. If this had happened in the winter when the barn was full, they’d have lost a good portion of their winter forage into the bargain. Look on the bright side, Edward, he thought with a grim smile.
Hearing his name called, he saw Garrett returning with saws and a heavy coil of rope, a couple of burly men carrying two long ladders between them, and Ned Callow - he of the ox-like shoulders - bringing two massive shire horses with him.
Edward ran forward and grabbed a saw, gesturing for the men to bring one of the ladders inside the smaller barn. Thankfully, someone had had the foresight to clear it, and Edward placed the lantern down, coughing as the place was already filled with acrid smoke. Gesturing for the men to place the ladder against the main truss, Edward darted back outside, stripping off his cravat and dunking it in a bucket of water before tying it around his face. Taking the rope over one arm, he ran back into the barn, and with the saw in the other, climbed the ladder to the large triangular truss. The old barn might need repair, but the truss was of good English oak, and he wasn’t going to get through this easily.
Edward set to work, sawing through the tie beam on one side of the king post, and then looked around just a moment later as another ladder was placed beside his. Ned Callow climbed and set his impressive shoulders to the work of sawing through the other side of the beam. Edward nodded his thanks, as sawing both sides would have taken time he might not have. The two men worked until the sweat was streaming down their faces, their eyes stinging and burning with the smoke that was getting blacker and thicker with every moment.
Edward coughed, wiping sweat from his eyes. His shoulder and arm were burning with effort, his palm blistering as he struggled to keep his grip on the saw as his hand sweated and grew slick. Both he and Ned cut through at the same moment, an unspoken challenge of strength and skill raging between them, and there was a sickening groan as the roof sagged a little and then settled.
Edward caught his breath, looking up and imagining for a horrifying moment being buried under the weight of that roof. Pushing his fear aside, he pulled down the cravat that covered his face and yelled at Ned.
“Get the horses in position, I’ll tie the king post.”
Ned nodded his understanding and climbed down as Edward untwisted the rope, glad to have the weight it of it from his shoulder. He kept hold of one end and threw the coil down to Ned, who caught it and went to tie it to the horses.
Edward worked as fast as he could. Once he was satisfied the roped was tied good and secure, he began to climb down. He was halfway down when there was an almighty crash that made his heart jump in his chest. Realising the south barn must have finally collapsed in on itself, he looked to the large open doors to see the usually placid shires had been startled by the noise and the billow of fire and smoke that rolled towards them. The rope tightened suddenly, pulling on the king post as the horses moved off, Ned struggling to hold them steady. Fear was a stronger motivator, though, and self-preservation told them to move away from the noise and chaos as fast as they could.
Edward leapt the remaining rungs, falling to the floor and feeling pain lance up his ankle as he landed badly. Staring up, he saw the king post begin to move, the tie beam sagging beneath it.