Page 6 of To Heal a Broken Earl
Emma and Katie arrived, soot-streaked and exhausted, in the middle of the night.
Within moments, the butler kindly opened the door, his face showing immediate concern as he took in their bedraggled state.
“Lady Grantham, how can I assist you?” he asked, holding a candle aloft to light the darkened hall.
“I’m s-so sorry to wake you at this hour, Jenkins. But we need help,” Emma said, between wheezing and coughing. She was still feeling the effects of the smoke she and Katie had inhaled. Thankfully, Katie’s coughing had eased during the ride to Lady Beadle’s.
Jenkins quickly ushered them into the vestibule.
“Could we possibly see Lady Beadle? Our…h-house…b-burned down, and Katie and I have no p-place to go.”
“My dear lady… I am so deeply sorry,” the butler said, his voice and face reflecting shock.
“Thank you, Jenkins,” she said, hugging Katie closer to her side. “There was a strange man… I think he set the fire.” Her voice sounded strained and hoarse to her ears.
“Good God!” the older man said, horror tightening his features. He immediately turned to one of the footmen standing behind him. “Wake the stable hands and see that the horses are settled.”
“Yes, sir,” the young man said, hurrying away.
Emma’s nerves had begun to fray, as they often did once the worst of a crisis had passed—that delayed, trembling fear.
“I…I wondered if I could get word to Lady Armstrong,” she said, her voice uneven.
Emma had never been a fragile, wilting flower, unlike many of the debutantes in Society who fluttered their fans and simpered behind them. But tonight, with her sister and brother-in-law away and no familiar comfort nearby, she had needed the steady, reassuring presence of her friend.
Without hesitation, Jenkins turned to the remaining footman.
“Go at once and fetch Lord and Lady Armstrong,” he instructed the man, his voice low and urgent. “Make haste.”
The other young man nodded and rushed off just as a tapping sound echoed behind them.
“My dear Emma,” Lady Beadle said, approaching them, her cane thumping briskly against the polished marble floor as she walked.
Jenkins turned and bowed slightly. “My lady, forgive the commotion, but Lady Grantham and her niece have been through a terrible ordeal.”
“I can see that,” Lady Beadle said, her voice softening. She reached out and enveloped Emma and Katie in a warm hug. “My dears, let us help you.”
Emma blinked back tears and murmured her thanks, overwhelmed by the dowager’s kindness.
“Come, let us sit in the drawing room,” Lady Beadle said briskly, patting Emma’s arm. “I’m sure Celia and William will be here soon. Yes, Jenkins, I heard you tell Reggie to fetch them,” she added with a faint smile as the butler opened his mouth once more to explain. “The drawing room will be better suited. It’s larger, and I fear there will be a full house before we get this all sorted.”
She turned to Jenkins once more. “Now, be a dear and bring us some good, strong tea, warm milk for Katie, and a plate of those delicious lemon biscuits Mrs. Peppers made earlier. Oh, and prepare a guest chamber for Emma and Katie. The blue room—it’s so soothing. I am certain they will want to rest and revive themselves after their ordeal. And bring us clean cloths and a bowl of warm water for washing.”
“Yes, my lady,” Jenkins said promptly, and he escorted them to the drawing room and saw to their comfort.
Emma sighed with relief as Lady Beadle took charge. She was too exhausted to think clearly.
Once they had been settled, Lady Beadle tapped her cane lightly against the floor. “Jenkins, could you retrieve my hearing horn? I need to hear everything Lady Grantham tells me, so I don’t miss any important details.”
“Yes, mistress,” the butler said in a bland voice. He crossed to a small cabinet beside the door, withdrew a conical black-and-brass hearing device, and handed it to the dowager with practiced efficiency.
“Ah! Now, then. This will do the trick,” Lady Beadle said, adjusting the horn to her ear.
Emma knew that Lady Beadle was hard of hearing. Celia had told her, with a chuckle, that her aunt could read lips perfectly well—but she preferred the ear horn for dramatic effect. She enjoyed seeing the long-suffering look on Jenkins’s face every time she asked him to retrieve it—and she loved to complain about the blasted thing.
Seeing the butler still standing beside them, Lady Beadle asked, “Was there something else, Jenkins?”
“Yes, my lady. With your permission, I will instruct several of our footmen to check the perimeter of the house to ensure Lady Grantham and her young niece were not followed.”
