Page 43 of The Baroness of Sin
“Goodbye, My Lady,” Miss Blake spat and turned from the burning doorway.
* * *
The Earl and his household staff had searched the majority of his manor and found no trace of his daughter or her governess. James only had one place to look now. He had explained to Amanda that Martha needed to heal, but perhaps she had gotten too impatient or excited by the news. The greatest worry on James’ mind as he began to walk to the Carrington estate was that his daughter would ruin the surprise.
That was until he saw the smoke drifting from his love's home. He almost froze, almost let the ball of ice that formed in his gut rob him of his ability to act, but the fear could not hold him from Martha. He would not allow harm to come to her.
He sprinted across the lawn, and, despite his swiftness, it still felt as though it took him far too long. Standing in front of the Carrington house, he could now see that a good section of the exterior wall and roof was engulfed in flames. Household servants of all sorts sprinted to and fro as they tried to alert the right people and fetch water to battle the flames and stop their spread.
James was about to head inside to help when Miss Blake walked out. Her hair was wild and whipped in the wind, kicked up by the heat. Her dark dress was twisted and torn around her as if she had been attacked. Tears streaked her face, and she had clearly been crying.
“Miss Blake?! Heavens what happened to you?”
“My Lord, thank goodness you are here. You will never believe…” she began when she was suddenly interrupted. From behind her, Letty emerged from the burning manor, followed closely by Benjamin, Emma, and Barbara.
Letty pointed at the governess, “There she is! I saw her! She fled from Lady Carrington’s room with the fire already burning behind her!”
James' eyes shot to Miss Blake, and he knew from just a glance that what Letty said was true.
“Miss Blake? Why?” was all the Earl could muster in his disbelief.
“Why?” she returned his look of bewilderment. “Why? I served you loyally for years. I raised your child as a good wife would! And how do you repay my love and devotion, My Lord? You choose someone else. Even when I wrote that letter, you wouldn’t just let that tawdry relationship with her die. You had to keep fighting for her. But not me, never me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she gritted her teeth. “Well, now I have returned your loyalty in kind. You will learn that there will be consequences for treating Sarah Blake like someone who can be snubbed.”
James only grew more and more confused as she spoke. “Miss Blake, what are you talking about? You aren’t making sense? Wait... you were the one who penned the letter pretending to be Martha?”
James suddenly heard frantic slamming and looked up to see a horrifying sight. Martha and Amanda were pounding on the glass, trying to get his attention. The room they were in, Martha’s bedroom, was surrounded by the spreading fire.
“My God,” James cried and pushed Miss Blake aside to make his way into the house. She tried to cling to him as he ran by, but he shoved her off without thinking, causing her to tumble to the earth. She sat and sobbed as James sprinted into the burning home.
Inside, the heat on the first floor alone made him immediately begin to sweat. Thankfully, it had not yet spread this far, and this was where the majority of the staff that braved the interior worked. They carried buckets from the outdoors and the kitchen, sloshing water on the stairs and the walls and pulling down curtains. They wanted to limit the fire's ability to spread any way they could.
James had little problem getting past the staff and up the stairs as most were avoiding the path because that was the source of the heat and the danger. Once James had reached the upstairs hallway, though, it became a labyrinth of smoke and heat. He choked his way to Martha’s room from memory alone.
When he reached the doorway, he was thankful to find the door open, but when he tried to cross the entryway, a familiar voice shouted above the roar of the fire.
“Stop!” Martha cried out only a moment before James would have fallen through a black and flame-pitted hole in the floor. The fire had spread to the living room, creating a deadly burning tempest below.
James looked across the pit, and on the other side stood his lover with his daughter in his arms. The terrible déjà vu rocked him to his very core, and, for a brief moment, he didn’t know what was real. A beam fell, causing his daughter to scream out, and he was shaken from his stupor.
“James,” Martha looked around desperately. “If we are careful, I can help Amanda over to your side. You can take her outside and come back for me when she is safe.”
“No,” he said firmly. There was no negotiation in his voice. He knew it was the right thing to do, to try and protect his daughter, but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to leave another person behind to be consumed by fire. He had to try something else, anything else.
His eyes stopped on the beam that fell. He kicked at the end that still clung to the supports, separating it at the joint that had weakened in the heat. Then he removed his coat and patted the heavy beam, so it was no longer alight. Using all of his strength, he lifted the still hot beam and dropped it across the hole. It was far from safe. He heard the floor groan with the displaced weight, but he knew it would support Amanda and Martha.
“Cross,” he shouted, “Quickly.”
Amanda ran across with surprising ease, the dexterous young lady nimbly crossing over the pit that burned beneath her. Her father was waiting with open arms, and he pulled her close and held her tight before releasing her.
“Amanda, run to the stairs, quickly. Find Martha’s family outside,” James told her.
“But Papa-”
“Now! No buts! Go!” he shouted and pointed towards the staircase, turning to help Martha once he knew Amanda was doing as she was told.
Martha had a much harder time. She couldn’t use one of her arms to balance herself and was closer to the high smoke which made her eyes burn and water. Only a few steps from the end, her foot caught in a pit of the beam, and she fell over the pit.
She screamed, but the acceleration suddenly and painfully stopped as James had leaped across the beam and grabbed her by her good arm. The beam made a cracking sound and gave a sickening lurch. “I’m sorry, My Lady, this is not going to feel nice.”
