“Wherein lessons are learned, and our hero awakens.”

 

Edward’s rage took him down a familiar path until he found himself staring down into the hole he had dug himself. He gave a grim smile as he realised how apt the words were. He was forever digging himself holes, whether metaphorical or tangible. His anger left him by increments, draining away and leaving him weary and shaken.

Hauling in a deep breath, he looked up at the branches overhead and their haze of green where buds were showing evidence of the new season. He’d always loved the spring. It always seemed so full of possibilities, fresh starts and new adventures.

Belle had been right, of course. If he hadn’t shouted, she wouldn’t have fallen at all. Yet he’d been gripped by panic, and her name had been on his lips before his brain had time to catch up. Why in God’s named she hadn’t gone to fetch help instead of climbing that obviously rickety ladder by herself ... His guts clenched, but of course he knew the reason. Belle had to help there and then, because that’s what Belle did. She would never turn her back on anyone in need, least of all a child.

Edward concentrated on his breathing. Breath in, breath out. She was probably furious with him for being such a damned fool. He frowned and stared at the leaf-strewn floor. She was probably worried sick.

Picking his cravat up from where it lay discarded in the dirt, he tied it back around his neck in a hasty knot. He realised that it was growing dark already, and felt shaken by how much time had passed. Had he been standing here staring into this bloody hole for hours? He couldn’t remember it. It had only felt like moments ago he’d left the barn with panic clawing at his throat.

Turning around, Edward headed back out into the pasture that bordered the woods, and decided to go via the lane rather than tramping across the fields in the dimming light. It would be just his luck to put his foot down a rabbit hole and break his blasted ankle. He probably deserved it for being such a fool. Why in heaven’s name Belle bore with him was beyond him.

Because she loves you.

The knowledge wrapped around him, warming him against the chill of the evening. He smiled to himself. He was a fool, alright, but he was a lucky one.

Edward was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn’t hear the shout from the cottage that lay to his left. He looked up as Tommy Green hurried down the path, waving his one remaining arm and grinning at him, teeth glinting white in the twilight.

“Good evening, Lord Winterbourne.”

“Tommy,” Edward replied with a smile. “It’s good to see you. How are things?” He reached out to shake Tommy’s hand, grasping it firmly.

“Better than I dared hope after losing this,” Tommy said, indicating the empty sleeve that was neatly pinned up on his left side. “In fact, I was hoping you might spare a moment to come in and take a drink with us. We’re celebrating, you see.”

“Oh?” Edward replied, smiling, though he really wanted only to return and tell Belle he was an idiot, though she should know that well enough by now.

“Yes, my lord,” the young man said, blushing a little. “Well, you see, I had hopes of marrying Sarah Brown before I went off to war, but then ...” He gave an eloquent shrug. “A one-armed man with no job is no good to anyone,” he said, though there wasn’t a trace of self-pity behind the words. “But you changed that, my lord. Finding me that job overseeing the lads putting in that new drainage, well, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense,” Edward blustered, feeling uncomfortable with the man’s obvious gratitude. “After your experience in the engineers at the siege of Burgos, it would take an idiot not to put you charge of digging trenches,” Edward said with a wry grin. “So you can stop looking at me like I brought some kind of salvation. You’re over-qualified for the job and well you know it. I’m getting a bargain.”

“Aye, a bad one,” Tommy laughed, his eyes full of good-natured humour. “But let’s not argue over it. If we’re both of the mind we got a good deal, we should be happy enough to raise a toast. Especially as I’m about to become a married man,” he added with obvious pride.

Edward beamed at him and shook his hand again, clasping his good arm. “You lucky dog!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t Miss Brown the pretty young lady that works at The Lamb?”

Tommy nodded, quite unable to wipe the grin from his face. “That’s the one, but not for much longer. It’s a rough crowd they get down there, and my Sarah don’t like it. Now I can afford to keep her, and that’s your doing.”

Edward snorted, waving his words away. “Let’s not repeat that dance again, eh? You’d best show me in so I can toast your future happiness, then,” he said, regretting the fact that he would be late getting home and putting Belle’s mind at rest, but quite unable to dash the young man’s hopes. He was so obviously eager for Edward to share in his happiness.

Edward followed him up the narrow path to the cottage, staring at the tatty thatch on the roof.

“That needs looking at,” he observed, realising with a stab of guilt that he hadn’t attended to his duties to his tenants since he’d returned.

Tommy shrugged, looking awkward. “I know it. Normally I’d have it done by now, but ...” He trailed off and Edward’s guilt increased.

“It’s my fault, not yours. You should have told me sooner, though. I’ll get someone over tomorrow to take a look at it.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Tommy said, looking horribly grateful again. Edward cleared his throat.

“Let’s have that drink, shall we?”

“Let’s,” Tommy agreed, opening the door. He paused before crossing the threshold. “By the way, Sarah has given me leave to place a bet on you, if you ever decide to fight again. Said the turn up you had with that old bruiser Blackthorn last year was something to behold. Not that she holds with fightin’, mind, but she reckoned there wasn’t a man anywhere to stand against you.”

Edward ran a hand through his hair and returned a rather chagrined expression. “Well, I thank her kindly, and I’ll bear it in mind,” he said. “Only, do me a favour. Don’t repeat that in front of my wife.”

“Done.” Tommy chuckled, and Edward smiled as he knew the fellow completely misunderstood why he’d said it. Far from being angry, Belle would likely sell tickets!

With an amused grin, Edward followed Tommy indoors.

***

One drink had inevitably led to three or four, as the good-natured company of Tommy and Sarah’s respective families were unwilling to let him go without showing him the best of local hospitality. So, Edward found himself in a remarkably mellow frame of mind as he made his way home, the lantern Tommy had lent him swinging in his hand.

It was a fine spring night, chilly, to be sure, but he doubted there would be a frost. The sky was a soft black and lit with stars, a tiny sliver of moon shining, sharp, and crisp as a sabre.

He was looking forward to making up with Belle. He had never yet known her to hold a grudge against him for his bad behaviour, though sometimes he knew well that she ought to. He would find a way to make up for it. Perhaps he should take her to Bath for a few days. She’d had little chance to socialise and perhaps she missed it, hidden away at Longwold, and he knew she enjoyed the theatre. The idea filled him with horror, but he would go to please her. Though in truth, the thought of it wasn’t so appalling as it had used to be, not when he knew that she would be by his side. In fact, the idea of showing his lovely wife off did hold a certain appeal, as long as it was only a few days.

With this happy resolution turning in his brain, it took him a few moments to realise he could smell smoke. The acrid smell of burning hay reached his nostrils, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled with alarm. Good God, if he’d told the stupid buggers not to smoke their pipes around the south barn, he’d said it a thousand times.

Edward quickened his pace, walking as fast as he dared over the uneven ground in the dim light of the lantern.

His hopes that he’d been wrong were dashed as he turned, and where the silhouette of the south barn ought to be, there was only a blaze of light. He felt a surge of relief at seeing the men toiling to put the blaze out, but the smaller, rather dilapidated barn that stood between it and the castle was already beginning to smoke. The men were throwing endless buckets of water against the side that was closest to the blaze, but the heat was so intense that it forced them back.

The only thing they could do was to bring the roof down before the blaze took hold.

Edward ran, scanning the crowds and finding Garrett. His normally pristine butler was in his shirt sleeves, his face blackened with soot, and Edward felt a surge of gratitude that his staff didn’t find such an emergency beneath their dignity. Many of Garrett’s position would have allowed to the labourers to deal with it and stood back and watched.

“Garrett!” he shouted over the roar of the flames and the shouts of the men.

“Lord Winterbourne! Thank heavens,” the man cried with obvious relief.

“Garrett, we need to bring that roof down before that barn is blazing, too. I’ll need a sharp saw, a ladder, as much rope as you can find, and two strong horses.”

“Right away, my lord!” Garrett shouted, and ran off to do his bidding.

Edward ran through the crowd towards the blaze, and saw that it was hopeless. The south barn was beyond saving. Thank God it was spring. If this had happened in the winter when the barn was full, they’d have lost a good portion of their winter forage into the bargain. Look on the bright side, Edward, he thought with a grim smile.

Hearing his name called, he saw Garrett returning with saws and a heavy coil of rope, a couple of burly men carrying two long ladders between them, and Ned Callow - he of the ox-like shoulders - bringing two massive shire horses with him.

Edward ran forward and grabbed a saw, gesturing for the men to bring one of the ladders inside the smaller barn. Thankfully, someone had had the foresight to clear it, and Edward placed the lantern down, coughing as the place was already filled with acrid smoke. Gesturing for the men to place the ladder against the main truss, Edward darted back outside, stripping off his cravat and dunking it in a bucket of water before tying it around his face. Taking the rope over one arm, he ran back into the barn, and with the saw in the other, climbed the ladder to the large triangular truss. The old barn might need repair, but the truss was of good English oak, and he wasn’t going to get through this easily.

Edward set to work, sawing through the tie beam on one side of the king post, and then looked around just a moment later as another ladder was placed beside his. Ned Callow climbed and set his impressive shoulders to the work of sawing through the other side of the beam. Edward nodded his thanks, as sawing both sides would have taken time he might not have. The two men worked until the sweat was streaming down their faces, their eyes stinging and burning with the smoke that was getting blacker and thicker with every moment.

Edward coughed, wiping sweat from his eyes. His shoulder and arm were burning with effort, his palm blistering as he struggled to keep his grip on the saw as his hand sweated and grew slick. Both he and Ned cut through at the same moment, an unspoken challenge of strength and skill raging between them, and there was a sickening groan as the roof sagged a little and then settled.

Edward caught his breath, looking up and imagining for a horrifying moment being buried under the weight of that roof. Pushing his fear aside, he pulled down the cravat that covered his face and yelled at Ned.

“Get the horses in position, I’ll tie the king post.”

Ned nodded his understanding and climbed down as Edward untwisted the rope, glad to have the weight it of it from his shoulder. He kept hold of one end and threw the coil down to Ned, who caught it and went to tie it to the horses.

Edward worked as fast as he could. Once he was satisfied the roped was tied good and secure, he began to climb down. He was halfway down when there was an almighty crash that made his heart jump in his chest. Realising the south barn must have finally collapsed in on itself, he looked to the large open doors to see the usually placid shires had been startled by the noise and the billow of fire and smoke that rolled towards them. The rope tightened suddenly, pulling on the king post as the horses moved off, Ned struggling to hold them steady. Fear was a stronger motivator, though, and self-preservation told them to move away from the noise and chaos as fast as they could.

Edward leapt the remaining rungs, falling to the floor and feeling pain lance up his ankle as he landed badly. Staring up, he saw the king post begin to move, the tie beam sagging beneath it.

Oh God.

For the first time since the war, and with startling clarity, Edward realised how desperately he wanted to live.

How much there was in his life to live for.

He wanted to be with Belle, a lifetime with Belle and their children. A big, messy, noisy family who would terrify him and turn his hair grey with worrying for them, but wasn’t that what everyone lived with? It was normal and right, to fear for those you loved, and even if the worst happened, wouldn’t you want to live every day given you like it was a gift, rather than bury yourself in a hole for fear of living at all?

“No!” he cried, scrambling to his feet as the beam began to give. “No!”