They could not remain incarcerated here indefinitely. If none of the outside staff arrived to help them they were surely doomed to die a horrible death. Alexander’s sitting room had a substantial balcony overlooking the garden. Surely they could manufacture some sort of rope from the remaining bed linen and escape that way?
“Duncan, how long do you think the doors will hold if we opened the windows?”
“Long enough for yourself and the women to escape but I doubt we’d all get out in time. But we have no choice. I’ll start making a rope.” They had been conversing quietly, she was sure no one had overheard.
“I doubt all the women will be able to shin down a rope for it must be thirty feet to the terrace below.”
“I thought of that, my lady. If we attach something around their waists as well as providing a rope of sorts for them to hold onto, I think we’ll be successful.”
Isobel walked through the assembled crowd reassuring and comforting where necessary. She told them what was planned and asked Ellie to explain to those she couldn’t get to. The older women would be taken first, then the youngest and after that by seniority. She was determined to remain until all the females had gone.
Remarkably swiftly the two ropes of knotted linen were ready. Somehow the staff had been grouped appropriately, but she had resisted every suggestion that she go ahead of everyone else. “If you think we are ready, Duncan, then George must open the windows.”
“Right, my lady, but you must go first. Nobody is leaving here until you’re safe outside. Ain’t that right?”
A chorus of assent rippled round the room. She had no choice. If her staying meant more people would perish than she would do as they asked. It felt as if she’d swallowed a stone. She remembered the hideous collapse of the ceiling— she’d sent Nanny Cooper that way. If anything had happened to her baby… She must not think of this. The Almighty could not be so unkind us to take away something so precious.
Chapter Twenty-four
Alexander thundered up the drive expecting to see the outside staff organising a bucket chain in an attempt to douse the flames. The place was deserted but he could hear shouting and banging coming from the lofts in which the men slept.
Swearing volubly, he vaulted from the saddle and raced to release them. “Raise the alarm, someone ring the stable bell, bring ladders and as many horse blankets as you can find.”
Not waiting to see if they followed his orders he raced round to the front of the house where the seat of the fire appeared to be. As he arrived the front door opened and three women stumbled out coughing and spluttering, one carrying his daughter in her arms.
Thank the good Lord. Lucinda was safe—now he must pray he could get to Isobel in time. Two black shapes hurtled round the corner to greet him. He paused to scratch their heads glad Isobel’s pets had survived.
“Nanny Cooper, is Lady Lucinda unharmed?
The woman wiped her streaming eyes with one hand. “She is, your grace, but we got out in the nick of time. I fear opening the front door has increased the ferocity of the flames. Her grace was intending to lead the servants down that way but she will have been driven back.”
“Let me see my daughter.” She handed him the sleeping bundle, gently he pulled back the damp shawl which covered the infant and lightly kissed her face. “Sleep on, little one; I must fetch your mama.” He gave his daughter back with a smile of thanks. “Do you know where Mr and Mrs Watkins are living? “
Nanny Cooper was about to answer when two figures ran forward to greet him. “Your grace, we have only just seen the flames or we should have been here sooner. Has her grace not come out yet?”
“No, Watkins, these are the only three. Mrs Watkins, take my daughter and her attendants, back to your cottage and take care of them. I shall bring my wife to you when I rescue her.”
“I shall be waiting, your grace. Come along, Nanny. It’s a mild night, but you’ve had a nasty shock and would be all the better for a hot drink.” Mrs Watkins stopped, turning back asked, “Peggy Simpson, the wet nurse, did she not come out with you?”
“She prefers to sleep in the attic and will be with the other women. Since her man and her own baby died she doesn’t like to be alone at night.”
Damnation! If the baby woke there would be no food for her. He must make sure the Simpson woman was the second one to come out from the fire. “Please don’t worry, Mrs Watkins, I shall have her grace and the wet nurse with you shortly.”
The flames had taken a good hold and the windows on the first floor were as bright as if a thousand candles glowed inside. Where could a hundred souls hide safely with such a furnace burning all around them?
With two dozen men behind him he raced round to the south side. Thank God! Here the windows were black; the fire had not reached these chambers. “Up there. Do you see, Watkins? There’s light in my apartment, they must be in there. Get the ladders up against one set of windows, the rest of you divide yourselves into groups and take hold of the edges of a blanket. The only way we’re going to get everybody out safely is if the ladies jump.”
“I can organise that for you, my lord. Two blankets at a time, the others waiting to replace them when they’re full.”
“Good man. I’m going up a ladder to get things started. I’m hoping the men can come down these quickly leaving the blankets for the women. The wind’s getting up. I fear we don’t have a moment to lose before the whole place is engulfed.”
There was a small forest of lanterns on poles to light his way. A sudden gust of wind almost knocked him off the ladder, and an ominous roar from the front of the house sent him climbing even quicker. There could not be more than a quarter of an hour before the people inside perished.
He tipped headlong over the stone balustrade landing inelegantly on his face on the balcony. As he sprang to his feet the French windows flew open and Isobel fell into his arms.
“Alexander? What are you doing here? Lucinda - have you seen her?”
He crushed her in his arms for a second and then picked her up and placed her on the ladder. “Our daughter is fine, no time to talk, get down the ladder as fast as you can. Leave things to me. I shall send Simpson next. Go to Mrs Watkins’ cottage and wait for me there.”
“Take care, my darling, I could not bear to lose you now.”
Descending the wooden ladder in her slippers and nightgown was difficult but when your life was at stake you managed somehow. No sooner was she off the bottom than someone else was following her. To her astonishment two more windows were flung open and the next thing she saw were women jumping from the other balcony to land in stretched out blankets.
Peggy arrived at her side breathless and red-faced, but smiling. “What a lark! I’ve never seen the like. I hope me milk don’t dry up because of it.”
“Go to Mrs Watkins’ home right away, she’s expecting you. Do you know the way?”
“I do that, it ain’t far and there’s a fine big moon to show me the path.”
By now there were a dozen men and women milling about on the terrace getting in everybody’s way. “Inside staff - listen to me. You must go immediately to the coach house. It’s warm and dry in there. Get a fire going and put water on to boil. I’m sure the stable hands have the makings for tea, you must share cups as there won’t be enough for everyone.”
Two of the outside men offered to lead those rescued away from the fire. Isobel knew she should go with them. But she wanted to be sure everyone got out safely. Very soon there was a constant stream of the rescued heading for the coach house. She greeted each one in turn, congratulating them on their bravery and promising them they would not be dismissed from service because of this.