Charlotte hovered outside her brother’s study. Justin was in his sanctum, she could hear him muttering. Should she risk being shouted at for having the temerity to disturb him? She was tempted to flee, but she’d come so far, she would not turn back this time.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, deliberately leaving it ajar so she could effect her escape if necessary. The Earl of Blakeley looked up from the paper he was studying. When he saw who it was that interrupted him his eyes narrowed and his lips thinned.
‘What the devil do you want? Have you not enough to do teaching my brats their letters?’
‘I must speak to you on a matter of urgency. I have had an invitation to visit an old school friend, Martha Frobisher, and I intend to accept.’ There, she’d said it. She was a few months from her majority, it was high time she took a stand against the bullying tactics of the brother. Why should she remain at his beck and call, an unpaid governess to her nieces and nephews? Not that she didn’t love them dearly, and without her they would have precious little in their lives.
‘You will not go. I forbid it. You are needed here. Now go away, I have work to do.’ He waved a hand as if dismissing a servant and resumed the study of his papers. She retreated without further argument. However, on this occasion she had made up her mind to visit
Martha whatever his opinion on the matter. Her sister-in-law, Elizabeth, was a weak woman and so much in awe of her domineering husband she wouldn’t dream of questioning any of his dictums. Charlotte was made of sterner stuff.
Expecting to be rebuffed, her plans were already in hand. Her personal maid, Mary, had been into the nearby town and purchased two seats on the mail coach for tomorrow afternoon. The portmanteaus had been left with the landlord, there was no danger of him revealing their deception. Her brother was cordially disliked throughout the neighbourhood; he was a dilatory landlord and bills were rarely paid on time, if at all.
She hated any kind of deceit, but if she was ever see other than the four walls of Blakeley Manor before she was an old maid then she had to take things into her own hands. Her home was in a sad state of repair, first her father and now her brother, spent every penny on gambling. This meant there was nothing left to ease the lot of the tenants or improve their own surroundings. It was the interest from her trust fund that was keeping the family afloat.
This money had been left to her by her mother who had died many years ago. The principal could not be touched until she achieved her majority, but the interest until that date was paid to her brother and she knew very well what it was spent on.
Justin had sold the town house long since, also any land that wasn’t entailed. Indeed, if she and Mary were not proficient with their needles, none of them would have clothes fit to be seen.
The Earl, of course, dressed to perfection. His garments came from Weston’s and when he went to town he drove a smart travelling carriage with matching chestnuts. No one would know that the rest of his family lived in poverty, huddling together in the one wing of the house that was still habitable.
Fortunately she had discovered several trunks of fine material from India hidden away in the attics. It must have been purchased by her grandmother when the family were prosperous. By studying the fashion plates Charlotte was able to make gowns for both herself and her sister-in-law that were quite acceptable in the limited company they moved. Their only expense was for footwear which the local cobbler could supply. She knew herself to look more like the daughter of a tradesman than an aristocrat, but this did not bother her.
She had done her duty and asked permission and it had been refused. He only has himself to blame for what was going to happen next. She returned to the nursery floor to be greeted by her two nieces and two nephews.
‘Aunt Charlotte, what did he say? Are you to go to see Miss Frobisher?’ The speaker was the oldest, Edward, referred to in the nursery as Ned.
‘No, he refused his permission. However, I shall not be deterred by that.’
Four small faces smiled up at her. Richard, at nine years was a year younger than his brother. The twins, Jennifer and Beth, at seven, quite old enough to understand and to keep her secret.
‘I am going to go anyway, but I’ll need your help if I’m to escape satisfactorily. Not a word of this must reach your father.’
‘We won’t tell, even if he locks us in a dungeon and tortures us.’
‘Don’t be silly, Ned. You’re frightening your sisters. Your papa will not even think to question you, but your mama might come up to the schoolroom. This is what I want you to say.’ When she had explained their role the children giggled. They were delighted to be asked to pretend they had the measles. This meant they could avoid lessons and play all day.
The countess had a morbid fear of illness and would not set foot on the nursery floor if she thought her children had something contagious.
‘Who shall take care of us whilst your gone, Aunt Charlotte?’ The more nervous of the two girls, Jennifer, asked her face crumpling.
Immediately Charlotte gathered the little girl in her arms . ‘You have Sally and Martha, you will do very well with him in my absence. Remember, sweetheart, I’m going to be gone three weeks, not a lifetime by any means.
The little girl sniffed ‘But what if Papa shall shout at us?’
Her sister, Beth, pinched her arm. ‘Don’t be so such a goose, Aunt Charlotte told you we shall pretend to have the measles, no one shall come up here and bother us before she returns.’
‘Shall you be meeting many people? Are you going to any parties?’
‘Good heavens! Richard, I’m not going into society, I’m going to visit a school friend who lives in a town called Colchester, in Essex. Miss Frobisher is getting married next month, I am to help her assemble her bride clothes. I shall not be attending the wedding.’
‘Well I think it’s a great shame you do not go to parties or have the opportunity to meet a suitable gentleman to marry. I think you are quite the prettiest lady in the neighbourhood.’
Ned scowled at his brother. ‘Aunt Charlotte has no opportunity to meet a suitable gentleman because Papa has spent all her money on gambling. How are you going to find yourself a husband?’
‘Ned, my love, I’m not searching for a husband. I’m going to visit a school friend, that is adventure enough for me, I can assure you.’
* * * *
The rest of the day passed pleasantly in a lively game of cricket. In some parts the grass was knee-high which made searching for the ball an interesting challenge. The children loved to play outside, and although the nights were drawing in, the trees beginning to shed their leaves, cricket would be played at Blakeley Manor until the snow arrived.
Charlotte retired that night too excited to sleep. She’d already told her sister-in-law that the children appeared to be sickening, that she suspected they were coming down with the measles. With luck her absence might not even be noticed, her brother and his wife would think she too busy taking care of the invalids to join them for dinner.
Tomorrow she and Mary would set out ostensibly to make purchases to ease the children’s suffering. She had sufficient funds for her journey, had written ahead to book a room at the Green Man in Romford for the night.
Her escapade would be easier if Justin was away in town, but he was on a repairing lease and would not return until the next quarter’s rents and her interest were paid into his account. If she had been able to catch the early-morning coach she wouldn’t have the expense of staying overnight. However, it would have been remarked if she had departed during the morning, as it was her custom to visit the nearby village in the afternoons.
Sally, the chief nursemaid, was prepared to cover for her absence; if only her brother had not forced her to be deceitful by his unreasonable behaviour. Being obliged to wait until the afternoon meant she would not reach London until early evening. There would be sufficient light to continue to The Green Man; she so disliked travelling in the dark.
She had bespoke a bedchamber and private sitting room, had had no intention of sitting downstairs in the common snug. Although she had not been about much, in fact not at all, but was well aware that a young lady must not be seen in such a place. In fact, she should not really be journeying with just her maid as chaperone. After all, she was an aristocrat; even impoverished as she was, she would be disgraced if her jaunt ever came to light.
* * * *
James glanced at the occupants of the coach satisfied there was no one amongst them that would interrupt his much-needed rest. He had been travelling almost two days, making his way back from Vienna where he had attended a symposium on the new medical practices for treating the insane. He had a lucrative practice in the West End of London, but his main work was with the poor in the East End. There was little he could do to alleviate their suffering, but he treated them free of charge and liked to believe he was making a difference.
The rich could afford his exorbitant fees; he was personal physician to many influential men in the city. He did not treat Society, was not fashionable, but had the respect of all those wealthy politicians and bankers that he dealt with. He had no time for the aristocracy, saw them as the idle rich, producing nothing and benefiting no one. He steered well clear of anyone with a title.
The coach rocked and bucketed along the road from Colchester. If they didn’t lose a wheel or overturn in a ditch they should reach Romford before dark. He had booked his accommodation on his way through the previous week. It was a decent hostelry, served good food and the rooms were clean. Last week there had been group of young bloods returning from a prizefight and the place had been the worse for it. He trusted that tonight, being a weekday, the place would be quiet. He wanted to study his notes before he retired, he was intending to give a lecture on what he had learnt on Monday next.
The Green Man was heaving, the yard bursting with folk who’d just alighted from the mail coach from London. The ostlers had a quarter of an hour to change the cattle, the passengers barely time to get down and use the privy. Certainly not long enough to take refreshments.
He noticed a young woman, her unusual height made her stand out amidst the press of people. He could not see her face as she had her cloak pulled round; the other female, carrying two portmanteau must be her attendant. The young woman was plainly, but expensively, dressed, perhaps the daughter of a wealthy farmer or a legal gentleman? He overheard her talking quietly to her servant, her tone well modulated and genteel. It was unusual to see a lady of her sort on the common stage.
James shouldered his way through the crowd in order to stand behind the girl as they entered the overcrowded vestibule. For some reason he was intrigued by her presence, his fatigue forgotten in his eagerness to see her face.
* * * *
‘I had not realised it would be so busy, I do hope they have kept our rooms.’
‘You should stand to one side, miss, it is not right you being bustled in this way. I’ll go and ask the landlord about our rooms.’
Charlotte stood beside the two portmanteau, still reluctant to push her hood back and reveal her face. She was booked under an assumed name, had dropped her title to become plain Miss Edwards on her way to stay with friends in Colchester. Her brother had no notion where Martha Frobisher resided, if he discovered her absence he would not know in which direction to look. She shivered. She would not put it past him to send two of his rough grooms, led by Hodgson, his unpleasant man of business, to drag her back if he knew her actual direction. Good, Mary was returning with a maid.
‘Would you care to come this way, Miss Edwards, Pa says I’m too take you to your rooms. Supper will be sent up as soon as the rush is over. I’ve put hot water in your room already.’ ‘Thank you, I hope everyone will find themselves accommodation. I had no idea the Green Man was such a popular place to overnight.’
The girl seemed happy to chat. ‘It won’t be like this in a while, miss, it’s not often we get two coaches arriving at once. Just you wait, in half an hour the place will be more seemly.’ She stopped in front of a black oak door, opening it with a flourish. ‘Here’s your parlour, it ain’t big, but it’s got a good fire, you’ll be snug enough.’
Charlotte was pleasantly surprised, the room was indeed small but well appointed and spotlessly clean. ‘Go in with the girl, Mary, I shall wait here by fire.’ She was relieved to see her room was at the back of the building overlooking the paddock. She could just discern the outlines of several horses grazing contentedly. They had achieved their first objective without mishap. Tomorrow she’d see her dear friend again after being apart since they’d both left the exclusive seminary, more than three years ago. This was another expense Justin resented, but her education had been paid for from her own trust fund, so he could do nothing about it.
Supper arrived twenty minutes later. It was a substantial meal and well cooked. Replete, she decided to retire early. They were catching the eight o’clock mail coach and would need to be downstairs waiting when it rolled in. Mary was to sleep in a truckle bed at the end of hers. There had been no need to unpack, the clothes she required for the next morning were the same she had been wearing today. Only their nightgowns and washing necessitates would have to be pushed into the open bags and then they would be ready to leave.
The bed had a hard knobbly lump in the middle of the mattress making it impossible for her to settle. A nearby church clock struck midnight, with a sigh she sat up. She was not going to get any sleep. Mary was having the better of it on her little bed; the sound of her snoring gently was audible in the darkness.
She carried her garments into the parlour. It was the work of moments to kindle two candles from the glowing embers in the fireplace. She dressed quickly, all her gowns were simple, required no assistance to fasten the back. She refused to wear a corset, much to her sister-in-law’s disgust
She was lacing up her second boot when something alerted her. She cocked her head in the silence to listen. No more than the creak of the old building is it settled for the night, and the odd screech of an owl outside. She was imagining things, it was the first time she had been away from Blakeley Manor since her return from school.
Perhaps the noise had come from the corridor, she moved across to listen. Inhaling deeply, she knew what it was that had disturbed her. It was smoke. The inn was ancient, mainly timbered, it wouldn’t take many minutes for it to become a burning inferno.
The guests might not be able to save their belongings, but God willing, she was in time to rouse them so they could save themselves. ‘Mary, get up, put on your cloak and boots, there’s no time to dress, you must come at once. The place is on fire. We must alert everyone to the danger.’
* * * *
James was asleep in a chair in front of the fire, his notes slipping from his lap to fall in a pile about his feet. He was woken by a thunderous knocking on the door and the dreaded cry no one wished to hear in the middle of the night. ‘Fire! Fire - you must get up at once, the building is on fire’
Instantly awake, he thanked God he hadn’t gone to bed but was still dressed and with his boots on. Snatching up his coat he ran to the door. Facing him was the young woman he’d admired the evening before. He’d recognized the voice instantly.
‘You must leave the premises, madam, I shall rouse the rest of the building. It is a man’s job to take care of things now.’ The smoke at the far end of the corridor was thickening. People were emerging from their rooms coughing, sleep befuddled, but so far no one was panicking.
‘I am quite capable of rousing people, sir, there is still the floor above to do.’
Without another word, totally ignoring his instructions, she dashed up the narrow stairs, vanishing in a blur skirts. Another woman was shouting at the far end of the corridor and her cry was being picked up. He followed the young woman; she should not be up there, these were the dormitories, for those less fortunate men who could not afford a private room for themselves.
She was hammering and shouting that the occupants get up.
‘Miss, it’s not a good place for you to be, this chamber is likely full of rough men. Don’t fret, I shall make sure everyone is out, you go down and see if you can assist the ladies in any way.’
For a moment she hesitated, then smiled and nodded. ‘I beg your pardon, sir, I did not think this through. The smoke is getting thicker, do not delay, you must hurry or you will be trapped.’
James flung open the door and roared at the sleeping forms. ‘Get out, the building’s on fire, if you don’t move fast you’ll be roasted alive.’ His words had the desired response and instantly room was full of half clothed men, cursing and swearing as they collided in the darkness.
He had a single candle and guided them downstairs. The ominous crackle of flames was audible, James prayed that those at the far end of the inn had been woken in time. He handed his candlestick to the first of the night-gowned men. ‘Go ahead, sir, I must return to my room to collect my medical bag. I fear it might be needed tonight.’
* * * *
The gentleman meant well, but Charlotte had had quite enough of that when she was at home, and had no intention of allowing a perfect stranger dictate to her how she should behave. However, if she had known the room would be full of unclothed men she would have listened to him. It seemed sensible, on this occasion, to follow his instructions.
Downstairs the evacuation had turned to chaos. Those that had just woken were shouting and screaming in their panic. The smoke was thick, her eyes streamed and her chest heaved, it was becoming impossible to breathe. She saw a young woman, a baby in her arms and two small children clinging to her skirts.
‘Here, madam, let me help you.’ Charlotte bent down and snatched up the two children. ‘Come along with me, little ones, Mama shall follow right behind. We must get out into the fresh air.’
It was scarcely ten minutes since she’d roused the first room, but already the building was well ablaze. She prayed that there was a fire station close by, that pumps and men might soon arrive to douse the flames. The Green Man stood slightly apart, with luck sparks wouldn’t travel to nearby buildings and cause further devastation.
Most folk had now staggered out into the night, there was just herself, this woman and her children and the men from upstairs to come. It would be a relief to be outside in the fresh air. The children were too quiet, she prayed it was not too late to save them. With her breath rasping in her throat she staggered out into the moonlight to pass her burden into willing arms. No sooner were they out of the choking smoke than the children rallied, coughing and spluttering and crying for their mother.
The night was not chill, no one should catch their death of cold tonight. The lanterns had been lit and folk from round about were streaming in to guide those rescued from the fire back to their own homes. Where was the landlord? Surely he should take charge of this milling crowd, and bring order out of chaos. The woman she had helped gripped her hand.
‘My dear, I should not have got out safely without your timely assistance. Please, hold my baby. I must go back and help my mother, she is infirm and could not manage the stairs alone.’
‘No, you remain here. I saw which room you emerged from, I shall go back and fetch your mother. The children are better here with you.’
Taking her hood she dipped it in a nearby water barrel and then , pulling it across her mouth and nose, ran back into the smoke. There were still one or two people thundering down the stairs, mostly men in nightshirts. Outside the room she met the man she had woken first.
‘Good God! Why are you not outside? What are you doing in here again?’
‘There is a woman trapped in this room, she cannot walk, we must get her out before it is too late.’
She burst into the room to find an elderly lady sitting calmly on a chair apparently unbothered by the pandemonium, and the fact that her room was rapidly filling with smoke.
‘Your daughter sent me to fetch you, madam.’
‘I can’t walk unaided, my dear, but I shall do my best.’ The old lady smiled widely. ‘Sensible
girl, you’ve brought your young man to carry me. Now I’m sure he will get me out safely.’
‘Soak your cloak and those towels, drape them over your face. Come along, madam, your carriage awaits.’ The man tossed her his bag to carry, smothered the old lady with wet towels and wrapped one around his own head. Then with the invalid in his arms he turned to her. ‘You go first, I shall hold on to the back of your cloak, you must lead us to safety.’
The heat belching up from below was hideous, the smoke impenetrable. The only way she could get them out would be to close her eyes and use her memory to guide them. This chamber was directly opposite the flight of stairs, she must clutch the banister and let it guide her down.
It was impossible to breathe, the wet cloak across her mouth and nose was of some assistance but it wasn’t enough, if they didn’t get outside quickly they would all perish. Her knees cracked painfully on the newel post. Thank God! The heat was blistering her hands, the sound of masonry descending ever closer. The front door stood open, this was adding to the conflagration, but the voices outside were guiding her to safety.
It was ten paces to reach the exit, she strode out bravely counting in her head, her hands outstretched. She could feel the tug on her cloak and knew the man and his burden were right behind her. Then she crashed into the wall. She had no idea in which direction to go to find the door. Then the man nudged her to the left. How could he possibly know that this was the correct way? Then she felt it, there was a faint breeze on her left cheek. She rushed forward and emerged, choking, into the clear night air. Her eyes were stinging, and her lungs rasped. Then her knees buckled and she fell forward, unable to prevent herself, she cracked her head on the cobbles and blackness overwhelmed her.