"M'lord! Lord Davenport!" A distant frantic voice called from a distance.
But, he had already heard the approaching thunder of galloping hooves and rattling carriage wheels. One large gloved hand gripped the carriage reigns, the other reached for a blade tucked in his left boot. He cursed his foolish attempt at romance with this open topped little landau that left them vulnerable to anything that may be coming their way. These were his lands, but in these uncertain times. The best he could do was put himself between any impending danger and his lady.
Evelyn peeked around her husband's broad shoulders. She saw another landau, accompanied by an outrider, approach in a cloud of thick grey dust. Coachman, horses, carriage were all a similar shade of hazy grey. The open carriage, in a cloud of pale grey dust, was so laden with luggage, the tops of two ladies' bonnets were barely visible. The outrider stood up in the stirrups waving to them.
"My lord, are we ever glad to see you!"
Lord Davenport slipped his long knife back into his boot before he jumped down to grab onto the muzzles of the horses when the other carriage drew up beside them.
"Lady Ann!" Evelyn cry out in recognition and glee. She didn't notice her husband blanch. "My dear friend!"
"Lord and Lady Davenport, we had not expected to meet like this," Lady Ann panted between coughs. She tried, unsuccessfully, to waved aside some of the dust clouds before her.
Next to Ann, was a younger woman. Wisps of pretty blond hair peeked out from her wide-brimmed hat. She held out one graceful gloved hand towards Lord Davenport. "We're so delighted to see you, my lord. But I beg your pardon for our shabby appearance."
"Of course Lady St. James needs no introduction," Ann said, with wry amusement.
"What's happened?" Lord Davenport asked of the outrider.
Everyone spoke at once. No one could say how and where it started, but a fire had completely engulfed Sir Richard's home. The ladies were quickly bundled into a quickly harnessed landau, with what haphazardly stuffed luggage they could flee with.
Only then did Evelyn realize it wasn't dust but ash that covered them. It coated absolutely everything and everyone. "Of course, you are most welcome," she said.
"Sir. Richard?" Lord Davenport asked no one in particular.
"He remains with the others, my lord," the outrider replied. "He charged us to see the ladies to safety."
Evelyn thought she recognized the man's voice beneath his hat brim. His livery marked him as a footman, but there was no time to ponder that.
They all turned towards the hills, behind a line of trees towards Sir. Richard's pile. Sure enough, thick columns of silvery grey smoke billowed above a distant tree line, rising higher and higher to join the thick clouds above.
Out the corners of Evelyn's eyes, she caught a movement. Lady St. James had gotten up abruptly just as the moved forward, causing her balance to tip. She would have toppled from the carriage had Lord Davenport not caught her in time. Evelyn noted the way his large hands spanned Lady St. James' slender waist as he helped her back to her seat. The grateful young woman clutched his broad shoulders for a moment longer than necessary. The way Lady St. James never once took her adoring gaze from Lord Davenport made Evelyn's scalp prickle. She quickly pushed past the feeling. Their friends and neighbours were in need and she was being silly.
Lord Davenport wasted no time as he gestured for the footman's horse. The man quickly scrambled off his saddle and held the bit steady for his lordship to swing up.
"See the ladies to the Hall then return at once to Sir. Richard's." Lord Davenport spun the beast around to cast a regretful look down on his wife. There was no need for words.
Evelyn's cheeks dimpled as she gave him a firm nod. "Go."
The clear blue sky above disappeared behind a blanket of shapeless grey. They felt the first drizzle before they reached the Hall. News of the fire at Sir Richard's must have arrived before them. Servants rushed between the Hall and a formation of carts to load it with barrels and crates.
Martha and another maid came rushing down the entrance steps with henways for the ladies.
"Is this all for Sir Richard?" Evelyn asked Martha, gesturing to the commotion.
"Yes, m'lady." Martha shivered and huddled closer to her mistress. "News came not long ago. Some of the lads went straight away. Pray God puts the fire out with this rain."
"Have rooms readied for our guests," Evelyn instructed.
"The south wing is being prepared, m'lady."
Evelyn glanced back at her two guests just as Lady St. James was being lifted down by her manservant. Even covered in ash, the other young woman was lovely. Her features fine, delicate, vulnerable. A mythical creature from a fairy kingdom. But, duty supersedes petty jealousy. "We must give them tea, cakes, anything. Serve it in the green drawing room. Whatever we might do to make our guests more comfortable, do."
Lady Ann came up to take Evelyn's arm, while Lady St. James followed close behind.
"When Lady St. James invited me to her childhood home in the country, so close to you, I couldn't resist," Ann said as they entered the Hall. "We had only just arrived. Before I had a chance to send word to you, disaster struck."
Evelyn clasped her friend's hands warmly in her own. "I'm glad you are here, regardless of the circumstances, my dear." To the other young woman, Evelyn said kindly, "You are most welcome, my lady. We'll try our best to make your stay comfortable."
"Yes," Lady St. James muttered. Her green eyes, wide and seemingly innocent, darted about but did not meet Evelyn's gaze.
Evelyn blinked at the other woman's coldness. Surely, Lady St. James was in shock from her ordeal. "Come. Wash. Rest. Refreshments will be sent up to you, or we'll have tea in the green drawing room when you are ready."
A heavy rain darkened the heavens before her guests came down again. Washed and changed, Lady St. James, or Bess, as she asked to be called, was quite the vision. She was tall, willowy and possessed that celestial beauty only the flaxen-haired can achieve. For the first time, Evelyn felt herself too dark, her feminine curves inelegant by comparison.
While Ann prattled on and on about nothing in particular, Bess silently chewed on some cold beef, while her languishing green eyes remained downcast.
Finally, Evelyn found her voice. "How did the fire start?"
Ann sighed and waved a hand dismissively. "Careless scullery maid. Who could say how these things happen?"
Just then Ann turned her freshly scrubbed face towards Evelyn, causing the younger woman to gasp. "What's happened to your poor face!"
"Oh." Ann touched her bruised cheek still visible beneath carefully applied powder. "My own carelessness. It's nothing-."
They were interrupted by Bess. "How could we ever explain this to my mother? But my sister wanted to extend her honeymoon trip, and mummy stayed to with her-"
Evelyn thought better than to inquire why a mother would accompany her daughter's honeymoon trip.
