“My room!” the young master wailed.
“He will tell you more when we are all safely outside,” I said, more shaken by Fibbens’s announcement than I cared to admit. “What of the staff and the other guests?” I asked, as we made our way.
“Everyone accounted for, sir. The fire has not spread beyond the young master’s chambers. If you do not mind, I’d like to assure the others that his lordship is safe-”
“Yes, of course.”
“Thank you, sir. Those who are not attempting to put out the fire should be downstairs shortly.”
At the front steps, it occurred to me that we were without cloaks, and Charles was without shoes. A fault in our drills, which had taken place in summertime. There had been little snowfall of late, but it was cold. I placed my coat around Charles’s small shoulders-much to his delight-and lifted him into my arms.
Soon the Banes began to join us on the front drive. Aunt Sophia was wrapped in what I recognized to be William’s many-caped driving coat. She’d not had time to put on her wig, and looked a positive fright. Fanny seemed to have borrowed boots from one of her brothers, but no coat-she shivered in a rather unbecoming nightgown. Henry appeared before us still fully dressed, but rather well-to-live, as the saying goes-from his unsteady walk, I suspected he had made substantial inroads on the Abbey’s wine cellars. William, too, was dressed, although from his mother’s criticisms, it was clear that he had remained in the building longer than she believed safe.
“And look! Your new coat from Weston-ruined!”
The expensive coat of blue superfine was indeed smudged. “Unlike some others I could name,” he sneered, looking reproachfully at Henry, “I attempted to make sure the old pile didn’t burn down around my family’s ears!”
Henry waved a vague hand of disinterest and stared toward the building. Smoke had stopped billowing from the window of Charles’s room. I prayed that meant the fire was under control.
“Here, Fanny,” William said, taking off the coat. “You wear it. You look as if you’re likely to freeze to death.”
But Fanny, after bestowing a grateful smile on him, proved to be her mother’s daughter. “Ugh!” she said, wrinkling her nose. “It smells of smoke.”
William rolled his eyes.
“I do not know why I allowed you to talk me into staying at this accursed place!” his mother said to him.
“I talked you into it! That’s a loud one!”
“Do not use that horrid cant with me, my young man! I won’t have it!”
I realized that Charles was providing an interested audience to this byplay. Still holding him, I walked a bit apart from them.
Bogsley and Fibbens appeared, bearing cloaks and blankets. Fibbens attended the Banes, while the elderly butler approached us.
“Bogsley, please tell me what has happened!” Charles said.
“I am pleased to say, your lordship, that the fire is out, and little damage done. Your dear father had made preparations, you know, and the staff responded in a way that would make him proud, if I do say so myself.”
“The next time I see him, I shall tell him how well you did,” Charles said.
Bogsley, that most self-controlled of all God’s creatures, did not blink an eye, but I heard the slightest catch in his voice as he answered, “Thank you, your lordship. I pray that will not be for some time yet.”
“One never knows,” Charles said.
Worried over the effect these words seemed to have on the butler, I quickly said, “You’ve given us good tidings indeed, Bogsley. I trust none of the staff took any hurt?”
“None whatsoever, sir.”
“Please thank everyone for saving our home,” Charles said, then turned to me. “Perhaps Cook could give a jam tart to each of them.”
“Yes, or whatever other treat might be managed,” I said, pleased with his show of manners, but hard-pressed to maintain my gravity.
“Your lordship is very kind,” Bogsley said.
“Thank you so much for the cloak, Bogsley,” I said. “I do not think his lordship intends to return my coat.”
At this Charles laughed, and we made our way indoors.
ONLY THE PROMISE OF A JAM TART CONVINCED CHARLES TO spend a few moments with Fibbens, while I inspected the damage. The hallway reeked of smoke, but the flames had been confined to one portion of Charles’s room.
“I’m afraid his lordship won’t be able to sleep in here this evening, sir,” Bogsley said.
“You remain the champion of understatement, Bogsley.” Charles’s bed had been reduced to ashes.
“Thank you, sir. It would seem that a candle or lamp was left burning on his night stand, and ignited the bed-curtains.”
“Except that being something of a little lion, his lordship does not suffer a fear of the dark, as some children do. He prefers a dark room, and has never required any sort of candle or lamp to be lit in his room. And in fact, he closes his bed-curtains about him, to keep out the light.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I looked in on his lordship earlier this evening. He was sound asleep. There was no candle burning in here at that time. I brought one in with me, and used it to see my way out. Has anyone else been in here this evening?”
“Until we were engaged in extinguishing the fire, no sir. I should say, no member of the staff entered this room since his lordship called for you, Captain Edward. But by that time, his lordship was rather determined to find you on his own.”
“And the Banes?”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t say, sir-not just at this moment.”
I knew he would discreetly question the Banes’s servants. After a moment’s silence, I said, “I will speak plainly to you, Bogsley. I am concerned for his lordship’s safety.”
“Understandably so, sir.”
“I will do my best to resolve this matter as soon as possible. In the meantime-”
“You may rely on me, sir-indeed, on all of us.”
“For which I’m grateful. Please have a truckle bed placed in my room until we can make other arrangements. I need not add that I would prefer we do not alarm his lordship with our concern.”
I thanked him again and fetched my nephew from the kitchen, where he was, as usual, being cosseted past redemption.
Charles, pleased that we would be sharing a room, nevertheless protested my plan to place him in my bed, while I slept on the truckle bed.
“But Charles,” I said, “there are no bed-curtains on the truckle bed, and as you can see, there is a great deal of moonlight tonight.”
He had no argument against this and thanked me politely before allowing me to tuck him in. “But keep the curtains open just a bit, if you please. Then I shall know you are here, keeping me safe.” So much, I thought, for hiding our concern.
I lay awake on the truckle bed, listening to his breathing settle into the rhythms of sleep. My feet suddenly felt a little cold, and then I heard a voice whisper, “Well done, Master Quakeboots.”
I sat bolt upright. By the light of the moon I could make him out, a faint but definite image of my dead brother, sitting at the foot of my bed.
My heart pounding, I opened my mouth to let out a cry, but I was frozen with fright.
“Please don’t,” he said. “I frightened Charles so badly early this evening, I don’t think I can forgive myself if I do so again. I cannot tell you how awful it is, Edward, to become a specter of horror to those you love. It nearly puts me in sympathy with Aunt Sophia, parading about without her wig.”
I felt a giddy sensation, but stopped myself short of laughing aloud. “By God, it is you!” I whispered.
“Lord Shivershanks, at your service.” He gave his familiar little bow.
“Oh, Lucien, how I’ve missed you already! How shall we contrive to get along without you? Whatever possessed you to ride so carelessly?”
He gave me a look as cold as the winter night. “My dear Edward, do not be a sapskull! Would I have endangered my life-to say nothing of the future of that precious boy sleeping next to you? Carelessly toss away my days with him? When have you ever known me to take foolish chances since his arrival?”