A sigh escaped him. “She trusted Jim Barron regarding the dig, and now she is deeply grieved over how he played her for a fool. She’ll pay a heavy enough price in the days to come for her choices, but she insisted on joining Mr. Harrington and me.”
Sure enough, Abigail waited with the other tenants, her tearstained face highlighted by the fire’s light as she stood near the secretary of the Society of Antiquaries. My stomach twisted as acid flooded into my mouth.
First Daniel, now Abigail. I released them both in that moment and felt a peace I had never known before. I had Rafe and my father, who both loved me dearly. My heavenly Father had notabandoned me either. I did not worship a treacherous myth like the fickle Minerva who abandoned Medusa.
No, God had placed Rafe and me within His tender grip, drawing us both to a place of safety where no enemy could touch us. Goose pimples rose on my skin as I recalled my desperate prayer just before Mr. Barron kidnapped me. Did God value me?
The certain answer threaded through me, stitching what was once torn. I would never have to earn such immense love and grace. I couldn’t, even if I tried. I held these priceless thoughts close as a rumble occurred within the west wing and the section collapsed. Several in the crowd cried out as the heat scorched us.
Rafe spoke with the constable, pointing to the damaged wing. Had Mr. Beaumont escaped, or had he succumbed to the floor caving in, only to find himself trapped by the flames he tried to condemn us to?
Meanwhile, the people of Bramnor did what they did best. They served, following my father’s example. Mr. Whittle found a blanket and pressed it against Mr. Barron’s side. The Dixon boys remained close to Lord Ainsley, who sat on the ground, his face pulled into a grimace. With his hair sticking straight up, he resembled a rooster. One of the boys offered a cup of water to the disgraced lord, much to my amazement. My father’s legacy of ministry had not been in vain.
Rafe’s military tone emerged as he shouted orders in all directions, gesturing at the east wing, where the men continued to fight the flames like a row of knights battling a monstrous dragon. I bit back a smile as I watched him. Despite his gruffness and his rigidity, a kind man with a tender heart needed only the right nurturing to come alive again. My chest fluttered as I considered the future before us. How could I be so blessed? He sought to rescue the gold ring, putting my needs above his own. He had defended my honor when other men sought to use or undermine me. And he had refused to let Jim Barron get what he deserved.
Mrs. Whittle found me and draped a shawl around my shivering shoulders. “We will rebuild again,” she told me. “Already the tenants are discussing how they can take turns to repair the damage.”
I agreed. What started out as a gloomy night with nary a cloud in the sky now burst with silver light as the moon broke free from her tether in the clouds. I breathed a prayer of thankfulness to God for seeing me and rescuing me in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
Father heard my prayer and took off his glasses, wiping his eyes with his fingers.
“Amen,” he whispered. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and tears swam within his eyes as he cleared his throat. “Bridget, I feared I had lost you forever.”
I tried to soothe him, but he pulled me into a tight embrace, stilling my speech. “You’ve shouldered far too much in our family, but for what it is worth... I’m proud of you. Very proud of you, my precious daughter.”
Wetness lined my lashes and I blinked it away in surprise, yet my heart all but melted at his loving words. Too overcome to speak, a rarity indeed for one such as myself, I reached for his hand and clung to him as we waited for Rafe.
40:Rafe
To have joy, one must share it.
LORD BYRON
At dawn, the tenants combed the ruins, but there was no sign of Beaumont. The building still smoldered, too hot for any search. Had he died in the fire? I dreaded what we might find later, but I knew my bullet had found its mark when I dove for Bridget and shot my pistol simultaneously.
Never had I been so afraid of losing her. She was standing with the women, wearing a shawl with her red hair loose on her shoulders. A more beautiful sight, I couldn’t remember.
Two are better than one,she had told me.
I agreed. I never wanted to leave her—if she would have me.
As I strode toward her, I overheard Mr. Barron promise a statement implicating Mr. Beaumont and Lord Ainsley in the attack. Bridget approached Abigail, who wept openly. I suspected the girl would weep much in the days to come.
To my surprise, Bridget took hold of Abigail’s hand and clung to it. I stopped to give them a moment.
“I forgive you, Abigail. Father and I will visit, but only if you wish it.”
“Don’t waste it on me. I don’t deserve it... I would never forgive if it was me.” Abigail’s voice cracked, each word brittle with shame. “I had no choice, you realize. None at all.” Her hand drifted to her belly, the unspoken truth hanging in the air between the two women.
Abigail pulled free, and her face crumpled as the constable led her away to a waiting carriage. He also took Lord Ainsley and Mr. Barron. All three would face further questioning with the magistrate.
I reached Bridget’s side, noting the silver tear tracking down her cheek. Inwardly, I cheered her generosity toward her former friend.
“You’ve lost so much, Rafe,” Bridget said as she drew her shawl closer. “First the hail, now the fire. It is overwhelming.”
Such a loss of funds and property would have overwhelmed me a year ago. “I think I can at last trust God, even amid this loss. And it is never too late to start again.”
I longed to take her in my arms, but with so many of the tenants watching, not to mention her father, I dared not embarrass her.
