Page 79 of The Runner
‘If Ican’t have you, he’s not having you or Willow Manor.’ He met her eyes briefly and then slipped into the trees without another word.
After a few seconds of hesitation, she forced herself to ride on towards the burning flames. There was no time to waste. She must get to the house and warn the others.
It seemed like hours but was only a few minutes beforeshe entered the grounds and approached the house. The mare neighed in fright as they neared the orange flames, and she dismounted and tethered the horse to the fence near the stables, at what she gauged was a safe distance from the fire.
Willow Manor lay in quiet morning stillness amidst the glow, and it seemed no one was alerted to the fire yet.
She shouted, drawing on all the power in her lungs, ‘Fire, fire! Wake up, the house is on fire!’
The flames didn’t appear to have reached the central portion of the building, but it wouldn’t be long, so she dashed inside the servants’ entrance which she prayed would be unlocked as usual, and called as loud as she could, running from room to room, through the maze of dark corridors.
Not surprisingly, the servants stirred first, and Cook came running into the kitchen. ‘What is it, lass? Fire—what’s this about a fire?’
Soon people were milling around, and the servants sprang into action, filling pails with water from the well and quickly dampening the flames on the burning wing of the house.
Caroline called out, ‘Where are the countess, the earl and Olivia? Has anyone seen them?’
There was no response, so she didn’t hesitate. She raced to the family’s rooms, which were adjacent to the burning wing, and as she neared, the smell of burning intensified, and choked her. She shouted again and was rewarded with noises of movement and to her great relief she saw the figures of the countess and Olivia in their night shifts, stumbling towards her. She urged them to leave the house in haste.
The smoke was thick, and she spluttered. ‘We must get out of here. But where is George—where is the earl?’
Olivia began to cry, and Caroline looked at the thick smoke and flames, trying to figure out the best route to reach him.
‘George may not have heard your cries,’ said Olivia. ‘We must wake him,’ she screamed.
Terror struck at Caroline’s heart as the smoke thickened on the stairs that led to George’s rooms. She held her nose and tried not to breathe and allow the putrid air into her lungs as she ran towards his room, and her eyes stung with the effort.
‘Lord Cavendish… George,’ she cried. ‘Wake up. You must get out of here—there’s a dreadful fire!’
She moved further into the centre of the chamber towards where he would be sleeping. Shards of pale light illuminated the opulent room, and she realised the curtains weren’t drawn, and as she stumbled about touching the bed to wake him, her hands were met with cold sheets and an empty bed.
She heard Cook’s voice. ‘Come out, lass, before it’s too late. You rushed off before I could tell you the master didn’t come home last night—the countess is with Olivia, and she said she didn’t hear him return. It’s not uncommon for him to stay out all night when he’s gaming in the village. Lord knows where he sleeps but he doesn’t come home until the following day.’
Caroline turned and fled the smoky room, following the sound of Cook’s voice, who waited for her outside in the corridor.
‘Let us get out of the house,’ Cook said, capturing her hand and pulling her along and down the stairs, towards the back door.
Caroline gasped and gulped for breath as the cold, smoky air hit her face and flooded her mouth. The smoke and lack of oxygen made her dizzy, and she stumbled and landed heavily on a mound of grass just beyond the door. Her final thought was of George, and she thanked God he was alive before she blacked out.
George racedinto the grounds after spotting the fire on his way back from the tavern. Taylor followed close behind him, ever the loyal companion.
‘What the devil is going on?’ George asked, as he jumped off his horse and dropped to his knees beside Caroline. He leaned over her, oblivious to the others. ‘Caroline, Caroline, you must wake up,’ he said. He had cleaned himself up a bit, but his shirt was still coated in blood and the cut on his face was raw and angry looking.
‘What on God’s earth happened to you? You look like you’ve been in a war,’ said Olivia.
‘Never mind me. How did this fire start?’
‘I don’t know. Caroline rescued us! Will she be all right? ’ Olivia said, anxiously peering over his shoulder.
‘She has to be, or I will never forgive myself,’ he said, and his voice echoed with anguish. ‘It’s all my fault.’
‘Of course, it isn’t your fault,’ said the countess as she appeared at his side, her tone hushed so the servants wouldn’t hear. ‘You weren’t even at home when the fire started.’
George hung his head. ‘Oh, if only that were so, Mother. But it’s all my fault. I ran away because I couldn’t face the truth, and she left because of my callous, unfeeling behaviour.’
The countess stared at her only son; confusion apparent in her eyes.
‘Why are you covered in blood? You look dreadful. I fear you must be in shock, my dearest boy. Go and rest, the worst of the fire is over, and we will see to Caroline.’
