He seemed to be more often in my company and I thought that it was because my father had told him of his wishes. The role of Lord Rosslyn of Rosslyn Manor would suit Sebastian well. He did not often refer to his home before he came to Rosslyn Manor, but I imagined it was in some decaying mansion whose upkeep caused concern to his impoverished father. Then came this golden opportunity, to go to Rosslyn Manor as heir because of this distant family connection to the powerful Lord Rosslyn, who was childless apart from those he had acquired outside matrimony. Of course Sebastian seized what was offered with alacrity: it was just the sort of life to appeal to him. And now, to please his benefactor, he was to marry a girl who was not too distasteful to him and whom he liked well enough. It would be an ideal arrangement, especially when the much-desired offspring appeared and the satisfied benefactor could look through his window and say: It has worked, just as I planned.
Oh, yes, Sebastian would be very ready to go along with that.
Christmas had come and we were in the New Year. It was cold and blustery.
Life still seemed a little unreal to me. My father watched me closely and I was always afraid that he was going to tell me his patience was running out and that he wanted to announce my engagement to Sebastian without any more delay.
Sebastian said nothing to me of marriage. I believed that my father had told him to wait.
When I saw Kirkwell I felt uneasy. He noticed and thought my mood was due to the fact that I was unsure.
He was not very happy, I knew, and I was desperately sorry about that. But I felt bewildered by my father's revelation of his plans, and I could not bring myself to discuss the whole matter with anyone, not even Christobel.
I went for short rides alone. I missed riding with Christobel. The baby was not due for a long time yet, but she was taking extreme care.
One day, returning to the stables after my ride, I met Luke. He told me he had been with James. He was very absorbed in something on the estate. James was explaining it all to him.
Poor Luke, with his dreams of one day inheriting the estate. I wondered what he would say if he knew of my father's plans for Sebastian and me. That would surely be a death knell to all his hopes.
Was Luke doomed to be disappointed all his life? And my poor father, I feared he would be disappointed too.
What wild plans these ambitious men could make. How could Luke believe that he would ever inherit Rosslyn Manor? How could my father believe I would ever marry Sebastian when I was almost certain that my husband would be Kirkwell? Of course, my father might well give Luke a small estate of his own. Sebastian would marry and perhaps my father would see his children playing in the gardens, but they would not be as close to him as he had wanted. But it would not be Rosslyn Manor for Luke, and it would not be my father's grandchildren there either.
It was dusk, which came early on these wintry afternoons, and as we approached Rosslyn Manor I saw a faint red glow in the sky. And then I detected a whiff of burning ... and I saw smoke coming from one of the windows in the tower.
"It's a fire!" I cried.
Luke murmured: "God in Heaven preserve us, so it is."
Then we were running towards the house with all speed.
The fire was in that part of the house which I had never visited. Lady Rosslyn's apartments.
"Give the alarm at once," cried Luke, and ran on ahead of me.
It seemed that the fire had already been detected, for several of the servants were assembled in passages, shouting to each other. They were carrying buckets of water which would surely not be very effective if the fire had got a hold as, from what we had seen outside, it seemed it had.
Luke had gone on ahead. This part of the Manor was very like that which I inhabited, built to the same pattern, so it was not as strange to me as it might have been.
I pushed my way forward. Then I saw Margaret Galloway. She was crying wildly.
"My lady ... she is in there. I cannot lift her ... I cannot get her out. She cannot move."
A door was open and, looking into the room, I saw a curtain of flames.
"She is in her bed ... I cannot move her," sobbed Margaret.
It was unbelievably hot and I found breathing difficult.
Several of the men were trying to beat out the flames and there were others throwing water over them. Some were carrying tubs of water up to the room.
Then I saw Luke. His face was blackened, his hair singed, but in his arms he was carrying someone.
Margaret Galloway cried: "Oh, praise the Lord. He has brought her out."
Luke was a hero. He had acted with selfless bravery. Lady Rosslyn had been in her bed, unable to move. Her bedcurtains were aflame. A few more moments and she would have been past helping. But Luke had reached her in time. He had rushed into the room and through the burning curtains with such speed that he had emerged with Lady Rosslyn in his arms with only singed hair and a few burns on his hands.
I thought afterwards how ironical it was that the one person whose presence in the manor house she had so resented had saved her life.
Both she and Luke had suffered minor burns. Luke's hair and eyebrows were singed. He looked unlike himself and his hands were painful. However, there were several of the servants with worse burns. One of the women on the estate was very skillful with lotions and unguents and was able to give immediate attention to those who had been burned, which saved them from being as bad as they might have been.
The fire was quickly put out. It was not the first fire the house had suffered during the centuries and the thick stone walls were almost impervious even to fire. This one had been confined to Lady Rosslyn's quarters and would certainly have been fatal to her had not Luke been able to bring her out.
No one knew how the fire had been started. Candles would have been lighted. There was a blustering wind outside. Perhaps a draught from an open door had sent a curtain fluttering into the candle flame. Who could say?
It was about a week or so after the fire, when I came back from one of my rides over to Christobel, that I saw Margaret Galloway. I had the feeling that she had been waiting for me.
She seemed rather embarrassed, and she said quickly: "Lady Rosslyn is better today. It was a terrible experience for her. Imagine her ... lying there ... helpless, with the fire all around her."
"Poor lady. It must have been horrifying."
"She would like you and your brother to come to see her, if you will. She wants you to know how grateful she is."
I felt a glow of pleasure. I knew she had resented us bitterly and I could understand it. This was quite a change of attitude. Understandable, of course. One cannot go on hating someone who has saved one's life.
I said we should be glad to go and see Lady Rosslyn.
"It was a terrible shock for her," said Margaret Galloway. "It was not until it was burning fiercely that I knew what was happening. It was too late to stop it."
"Everyone seems to have acted promptly and so saved a real disaster."
"But our apartments are unusable. We have other ones now. The maid will show you if you and your brother will come."
I said: "Francine was all right, was she?"
Margaret said: "Oh yes."
"It must have been alarming for her."
"Was it not for us all? Her ladyship is usually at her best in the afternoons."
"When my brother comes in, I will tell him."
And so Luke and I went to Lady Rosslyn's apartment.
She was in her bed, propped up with pillows.
She looked at us appealingly. Luke went to her and took the hand which she held towards us. He kissed it gallantly and she smiled, and her Ups moved.