Anna had disappeared with her candlestick to the far side of the attics where she hammered on the wall and screamed for everyone to get up. There were no communicating doors but the racket she was making should be sufficient to rouse anyone still asleep.

A male voice shouted back that everyone was awake. Isobel prayed the second staircase was not burning as fiercely as the one that led to the women’s quarters. Anna returned to her side.

“They must use the school-room stairs, my lady, as their own are well alight.”

Isobel turned to the terrified group of forty or more women waiting for instructions. “Quickly, cover your faces with your cloaks; I fear the smoke will be much thicker as we descend.”

The two flights of stairs converged in a lower passageway and Isobel was relieved to see the men emerging as her party arrived. The atmosphere was thick, the heat stifling, and most of them were coughing, their eyes streaming, but none complained or cried. They stood waiting for her to tell them what to do next. It could only be a matter of minutes before the stairs behind them became too hot and smoke filled for safety. She had to lead them down through the choking smoke or else they would all die, trapped inside the house.

Holding her hand over her nose, she plunged forward terrified she would pitch headfirst down the stairs before she found the banister of the main staircase. She gripped the smooth wood and began to descend. The candles were useless and the feeble flicker of the flames not enough to light the way.

*   *   *

Alexander had no need to hammer on the door as this was flung open as he leapt up the steps.

“My dear Rochester, what mishap has brought you here on foot?” Sir Frederick Campion greeted him. “I spied you from the terrace where my dear wife and I were taking supper.”

 “Campion, good God! I’d no idea this was your abode—approaching it from the rear like this has quite disconcerted me. I was riding across country and my mount broke its leg and I was forced to shoot it.” Sir Frederick looked even more bewildered, if that were possible.

 “Come in, come in, my lord. I shall find you refreshments. Do you wish to stay here overnight, or shall I loan you a fresh mount?”

Alexander followed him in trying to think of a reasonable explanation for his extraordinary appearance and his lack of a groom. “Thank you, sir, I should be grateful for both. As you have no doubt observed I’m travelling alone. I received disturbing news from home. You might recall that many years ago I failed to arrive in time.”

This was a masterstroke. Immediately the man’s face changed to one of sympathy, the whole neighbourhood would recall the death of his first wife and children.

“I see, of course, of course. I shall send word to the stables for them to saddle up my best horse. I’ll not delay you any longer than it takes for you to take a bite and a drink before you continue your journey.”

A short while later Alexander was away mounted on a magnificent bay gelding. It would be foolhardy to attempt to go across country in the dark; he must stick to the lanes and hope the moon was enough to light him. He’d heard the tall clock in the entrance hall strike ten when he’d arrived, it would be midnight before he arrived at Newcomb.

He was still several miles away when his eyes were drawn to an orange glow. He almost fell from the saddle. There was only one thing that could light the sky in that way - a massive fire. Newcomb was ablaze. Those snivelling bastards had set light to his home. He dug in his heels and regardless of the danger galloped headlong towards the conflagration.

*   *   *

As Isobel reached the halfway point she heard a horrible groan, like a giant in pain, then the ceiling in front of her collapsed, spewing flames and searing heat in her direction.

“Back, back, into the master suite, we shall be burnt to a cinder if we continue.”

Everyone turned and fled back the way they’d come, leaving her to stumble along behind them. Then Ellie was beside her and took her arm dragging her through the press of people on the stairs. They parted willingly, urging her ahead of them, more concerned for her safety than their own.

George and Duncan had already taken the men through into Alexander’s apartment. This was uncomfortably overcrowded with everyone inside. Men and women were mingling together, some spilling into the bed chamber, others obliged to hide in the dressing room itself.

Duncan seemed to know what to do and she was relieved to leave the decision-making to him. He had organised some of the men to soak bedcovers and press them along the bottom of all external doors. This would prevent the smoke from entering, at least for a while. Should she open the windows and let some fresh air in?

She was walking towards them when George called out. “No, my lady, leave them be.”

Surprised she paused. “Why is that, I thought with so many people inside …”

“When I were a little’un I remember a fire in a neighbouring cottage. The family, trapped in their house, opened a window and were consumed by the flames what came into the room.”

“How dreadful! I shall certainly leave it closed for the moment.”

The room was oppressive, for by blocking off the smoke Duncan had prevented any fresh air from entering. There must be more than ninety people huddled in these two rooms. They would not suffocate, but one or two of the older women were already suffering from the foetid atmosphere.

They could not remain incarcerated here indefinitely. If none of the outside staff arrived to help them they were surely doomed to die a horrible death. Alexander’s sitting room had a substantial balcony overlooking the garden. Surely they could manufacture some sort of rope from the remaining bed linen and escape that way?

“Duncan, how long do you think the doors will hold if we opened the windows?”

“Long enough for yourself and the women to escape but I doubt we’d all get out in time. But we have no choice. I’ll start making a rope.” They had been conversing quietly, she was sure no one had overheard.

“I doubt all the women will be able to shin down a rope for it must be thirty feet to the terrace below.”

“I thought of that, my lady. If we attach something around their waists as well as providing a rope of sorts for them to hold onto, I think we’ll be successful.”

Isobel walked through the assembled crowd reassuring and comforting where necessary. She told them what was planned and asked Ellie to explain to those she couldn’t get to. The older women would be taken first, then the youngest and after that by seniority. She was determined to remain until all the females had gone.

Remarkably swiftly the two ropes of knotted linen were ready. Somehow the staff had been grouped appropriately, but she had resisted every suggestion that she go ahead of everyone else. “If you think we are ready, Duncan, then George must open the windows.”

“Right, my lady, but you must go first. Nobody is leaving here until you’re safe outside. Ain’t that right?”

A chorus of assent rippled round the room. She had no choice. If her staying meant more people would perish than she would do as they asked. It felt as if she’d swallowed a stone. She remembered the hideous collapse of the ceiling— she’d sent Nanny Cooper that way. If anything had happened to her baby… She must not think of this. The Almighty could not be so unkind us to take away something so precious.

Chapter Twenty-four

Alexander thundered up the drive expecting to see the outside staff organising a bucket chain in an attempt to douse the flames. The place was deserted but he could hear shouting and banging coming from the lofts in which the men slept.

Swearing volubly, he vaulted from the saddle and raced to release them. “Raise the alarm, someone ring the stable bell, bring ladders and as many horse blankets as you can find.”

Not waiting to see if they followed his orders he raced round to the front of the house where the seat of the fire appeared to be. As he arrived the front door opened and three women stumbled out coughing and spluttering, one carrying his daughter in her arms.

Thank the good Lord. Lucinda was safe—now he must pray he could get to Isobel in time. Two black shapes hurtled round the corner to greet him. He paused to scratch their heads glad Isobel’s pets had survived.

 “Nanny Cooper, is Lady Lucinda unharmed?

The woman wiped her streaming eyes with one hand. “She is, your grace, but we got out in the nick of time. I fear opening the front door has increased the ferocity of the flames. Her grace was intending to lead the servants down that way but she will have been driven back.”

“Let me see my daughter.” She handed him the sleeping bundle, gently he pulled back the damp shawl which covered the infant and lightly kissed her face. “Sleep on, little one; I must fetch your mama.” He gave his daughter back with a smile of thanks. “Do you know where Mr and Mrs Watkins are living? “

Nanny Cooper was about to answer when two figures ran forward to greet him. “Your grace, we have only just seen the flames or we should have been here sooner. Has her grace not come out yet?”

“No, Watkins, these are the only three. Mrs Watkins, take my daughter and her attendants, back to your cottage and take care of them. I shall bring my wife to you when I rescue her.”

“I shall be waiting, your grace. Come along, Nanny. It’s a mild night, but you’ve had a nasty shock and would be all the better for a hot drink.” Mrs Watkins stopped, turning back asked, “Peggy Simpson, the wet nurse, did she not come out with you?”