Page 36 of A Devilish Element
“Then I don’t know how we shall find them without drawing attention.”
“Maybe there’s a map. Plans of the place in the library. Should we go and look?”
“Wait.” Eliza reached for his hand, stilling him as he was about to take the passage to the library. “Do you smell something? What is that?”
“Burning!” they both concluded at once.
Eliza started forward again following the route towards her room. With each step, the scent became stronger. Soon there were distinct wisps of smoke in the air. She broke into a run as best as was possible in the confined space. Jem stayed on her heels. They burst into her chamber through the back of the armoire to find it exactly as she’d left it that morning.
“Look.” Jem darted towards the adjoining door. Thick tendrils of smoke were leaking around the edges of the frame.
“Wait!” Eliza demanded, bringing him to a sharp halt. “We cannot both burst in from my dressing room.” Perhaps now wasn’t the moment to be thinking of propriety, but she had no intention of being sent away in disgrace for having had a man in her room. Said man had the good sense not to argue. He adjusted his route immediately, dashing out into the main corridor, while Eliza entered via the dressing room.
Within, the air was hazy and thick. It burned in her throat, making her cough. A corresponding hack came from the room beyond. Eliza grabbed a muslin kerchief from a basket on the floor and clasped it over her mouth and nose. Her eyes were streaming as she opened the door into Jane’s room.
She’d left the sparse room in weary tranquillity; now it was bright as day. Edith was kneeling on the bed, tugging at Jane with all her might, while her mistress remained in an opiate-induced stupor. Around them, the bed curtains burned with a blue-green flame.
“Miss. Oh, miss!” Edith cried on seeing her.
Eliza ran forward, but there was no getting close. The heat repelled her. Jem was knocking on the external door. Clearly having grown impatient, he burst in.
“No!” He caught Eliza as she tried to reach the bed and held her back. “Think.”
“Help. Help us, please.” Edith bleated. Her plea was cut short by a choking cough.
There was water in the ewer. An old shawl of Jane’s discarded nearby. Jem had her bind it around his arm, then soak the fabric. The canopy caught as Jem gingerly approached. The flames were tearing through it, showering those below in incandescent sparks. “Jump,” he told Edith.
She did, giving Jem just enough room to drag Jane, still entangled in the eiderdown, from the burning bed and deposit her unceremoniously on the rug. Her skin was ashen, lips almost blue.
“Out,” Jem ordered them, just as Bell burst through the door. George Cluett followed, along with Henrietta. “What the devil?” He sprang back as the canopy fell.
Eliza pushed Edith towards the door. Both Cluetts fell back to allow her passage. Then she grasped one end of the eiderdown, and she and Jem pulled Jane into the safety of the corridor.
“How the devil has she not stirred?” Mrs Cluett asked. She was fanning her face as if that alone would disperse the thick coils of smoke.
Bell dropped to one knee by Jane’s side. Someone pushed a coat beneath her head.
“Is she breathing? Is she dead?” Linfield demanded. He’d arrived in his banyan from the far reaches of the house.
Around them, the servants were gathering. Mrs Honeyfield was barking orders. Lord Linfield’s valet and a man in rough homespun she supposed to be Gordy the groundsman, began organising a line, while George, in a moment of intelligence, tore a large tapestry from the wall and manhandled it though the doorway. A buxom maid followed, armed with a carpet beater, while Edith curled into a corner, her soot-stained cheeks crossed with tear-tracks.
“Your wife is fine. She lives,” Bell replied, having checked both pulse and breathing.
Poor Jane was far from fine. “You gave her too much,” Eliza barked at Bell. “And weren’t you supposed to be attending her?”
“She was still sleeping, I planned to return later, and nor did I give her too much. I gave her exactly the required dose. If you’ll recall, Miss Wakefield, she was distraught.”
“And now she is in so deep a stupor as to be insensible to her surroundings, even as they burn down around her.”
“As if an inferno could have been predicted. She had a body with her. Where is the maid?” He spotted her. “Careless girl, you’ve nearly cost your mistress her life.”
Eliza barged her way between Bell and the maid. “Oh, don’t you point a finger at her. You have no notion of how the fire started.”
“It weren’t me. It weren’t.” Edith cried. Eliza pulled her to her, and the maid dissolved into gulping sobs against her breast. “Ah don’t know what ’appened, Miss. I swear it. Only, that I came back reet fast like Mrs Honeyfield said I should, an’ the mistress was still sleeping so peaceful-like… And then, I dunno. It were fine, and then the curtain were all ablaze, an’ I couldn’t get her to stir, and she’s too heavy fer me t’ move on me own.”
“Stupid girl, you probably set the curtains alight with your carelessness,” Linfield barked. He was peering down his nose at his comatose wife, still laid out on the floor. “Have her moved.” He tipped a nod towards Jane.
“I’ll deal with the maid, my lord,” Mrs Honeyfield stepped in, but Edith clung to Eliza.
