Page 7 of To Heal a Broken Earl
Lady Beadle nodded. “Sound judgment, Jenkins. As usual, you are several steps ahead of me,” the older woman said, smiling in his direction.
“Meow…”
“Lady Beadle, your kittens are so funny. They make me laugh,” Katie said, giggling, bringing Emma out of her reverie.
“Yes, they are rather cheeky pusses, aren’t they, my dear?” Lady Beadle said, smiling as she dangled a long feather on a stick before them.
Emma regarded her hostess, wishing she, too, could laugh at the precocious cats chasing the feather. She had done her best to remain calm while she relayed the events of the night to Lady Beadle, but now, as they waited for Celia and Armstrong to arrive, she could feel her emotions bubbling up again, like a tidal wave.
“My dear Emma, may I offer you another cup of tea?” Lady Beadle asked in a kind voice. “I find tea to be most restorative after a shock.”
“No, thank you, my lady,” Emma said, hearing the tremor in her voice.
“You have endured a horrendous ordeal,” the old woman said gently, “but I promise you—even after the darkest night, the sun will always rise.”
Emma nodded, sniffling back tears. “I know, Lady Beadle… But the fire… Everything is gone.” She swallowed hard as if something large and painful were lodged in her throat, so swollen it was. Her sister’s beautiful home…the lovely carriage house… Both had likely been completely destroyed.
“You’re safe, my dear, and that is what counts,” Lady Beadle said softly as if reading her thoughts. “Houses can be rebuilt. New gowns can be sewn. But a life, once lost, is lost forever.”
Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Lady Beadle was right.
They were alive.
They were safe from the fire.
Safe fromhim.
Emma had no idea who the man was, nor why he had set the fire. But she knew without a doubt that it had been him, standing so nonchalantly beneath the lamppost, as though he were watching a cricket match instead of a house burning to the ground.
But why?
“I fear I may have brought terrible trouble to your door,” Emma said, her voice cracking. Despite her attempts to stop them, tears began to stream down her face. “Only I didn’t know where else to turn.”
“Of course, you did the right thing coming here,” Lady Beadle said in a reassuring tone. “And I have lived through and overcome plenty of troubling times, my dear—and so will you.” She smiled as she reached for a navy velvet cord and tugged it.
Jenkins appeared a few moments later.
“My lady, how may I be of service?”
“Jenkins, please ask Doris to join us,” Lady Beadle said, gesturing to Katie, who had fallen asleep.
Emma shifted the child on her lap, tucking Katie’s head onto her shoulder.
“Right away, my lady,” the older man said. He bobbed a quick nod and left.
“Emma, you must stay with us as long as you need,” Lady Beadle said. “We will do everything in our power to put things to rights.”
Before Emma could answer, a sweet-faced older woman rushed into the drawing room.
“Ah, there you are, Doris,” Lady Beadle said.
“My lady, the blue room has been prepared for your guests.”
“Excellent, Doris. You remember Lady Grantham. She and her niece have escaped a horrible fire at Mr. Martin Saunders’s home. Mr. Saunders is my solicitor, and he and his wife Evie are dear friends, as you know.”
Katie stirred on Emma’s lap. “Auntie Emma, did you see the man?” she murmured in a sleepy voice. The little girl sat up, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and looked around. “Can they help us, Auntie?"
