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Greengage burst into the room, a poker in his hand and the footman on his heels. ‘Sir!’
‘Put that damn thing down, get a carriage harnessed. Fast!’ Eden threw open the clothes-press door and began to drag on clothes.
The pair skidded into the theatre yard. Eden was out of the carriage before it came to a halt. ‘There is no light in the stage-door office.’
The stench of gas hit him, even before he got the door properly open. In his cubby hole, Doggett lay slumped over the table, his face strangely flushed. The gas lamp hissed, unlit. Eden turned it off. ‘Drag him out into the air,’ he snapped, his heart turning to water inside him, even as he began to run. ‘I’ll find Maude.’
He hardly dared think, lest fear freeze him, could not strike a light to search by for fear of igniting the gas. His brain was already clouded by the fumes as he ran down the passageway, into the Green Room. It was empty, its gas lamps turned off. The office, she might have gone there.
Eden ran, shouldered open the door into the dark room, hearing the hiss of gas, choking as the fumes hit him. For a moment, as he turned the tap off, he could see nothing, then the huddled form slumped over the desk came into focus.
‘Maude! Maude!’ He half-lifted, half-dragged her, a dead weight, out into the corridor. But he could not see, and the fumes were making him choke. Eden pulled her over his shoulder and ran for the yard and the clean, fresh air.
‘You have her!’ Lord Pangbourne started towards them. Beside the carriage the groom knelt over Doggett. ‘That poor old fellow’s gone. But she is all right? Tell me she’s all right!’
‘I don’t know.’ Eden lowered Maude on to the damp flags. ‘She’s not breathing. I think she was brea
thing when I found her.’ The fear was washing over him, the despair clutching. She had come back for him, gone to his room, and he had not been there for her and now she was dead. ‘Maude! My love, darling, speak to me. Maude!’ Desperate, he slapped her face, jerking her head back and forth, but there was no response. Eden bent, covered her mouth with his and breathed hard down into her lungs.
He could taste the gas as he worked, masking the scent and the taste of her. Desperate he kept going, aware of the earl’s sobbing breath beside him. It was no good, she had gone. Eden sat back, feeling the tears begin to roll down his cheeks. ‘Maude, oh, my love, my love.’
And then she coughed, a pathetic, tiny noise like a half-drowned kitten. Eden snatched her up, pulled her against his shoulder, patting her back hard while she gasped and choked and then, at last, clung to him. ‘Eden…’ Her eyes were closed, but she breathed.
Lord Pangbourne threw his arms around the pair of them and they rocked together in the chill morning while Eden cried tears of incredulous joy and the older man wept unashamedly.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Eden.’ Restless, Maude turned her head on the pillow. Her head ached appallingly, her stomach hurt as though she had been sick and somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew that something was terribly wrong.
‘Hush. Try to drink this, dear.’ Jessica’s voice. Maude opened her eyes on her friend’s anxious face. ‘There, you’ll be all right soon, try to drink a little. Jane, come and help Lady Maude sit up.’
Between them they pulled her up against the pillows and the maid held a glass of barley water. Maude sipped, choked and sipped again. ‘What happened?’
‘Do you remember being in Mr Hurst’s office? The gas pressure must have dropped and your light, and that in the stage-door office, were the only ones lit. The flame went out and when the pressure came back the taps were still open. Gas poured out and nearly killed you. If your father and Mr Hurst had not arrived in time and found you and the stage doorman…’
‘Doggett?’ Maude recalled his lined, cheerful face. Jessica shook her head. ‘Oh, no.’
‘He was an elderly man; his heart must have given out.’
‘Eden saved me?’ She could remember, as though in a swirling nightmare, his voice, her father’s presence. She could recall the pressure of his mouth, but not a kiss. She could remember his words. Or a dream of his words.
‘Yes, he found you, brought you out, breathed air into your lungs until you started breathing again by yourself.’
‘Where is Papa?’
‘We made him go home, once it was obvious that you were no longer in any danger. He was very much upset and distressed and the doctor said he must rest. Gareth has gone with him.’
‘And Eden?’
Jessica smiled. ‘He is here, outside your door where he has been for the past ten hours. I can’t move him. Do you want to see him?’ Maude could only nod. Her friend got to her feet. ‘I should stay and chaperon you, but I really think even the most notorious rake is safe alone with you at the moment.’ She opened the door. ‘Mr Hurst, Maude is asking for you.’
Maude struggled up further against the pillows, pushing her tumbled hair back from her face. Eden deserved her thanks, if she could only find the words and then, no doubt, he would go.
He stopped inside the door and just looked at her. His face was strained and smudged with dirt, he did not look as though he had slept and the expression in his eyes made her breath catch in her raw throat. Maude held out one hand, silent, and he came, not to take it, but to catch her up in his arms, pull her into a fierce embrace. ‘Oh, my God, Maude, I thought I had lost you.’
She clung, then pulled back, staring at his face. His eyes were red, as though he had wept, and in their darkness was emotion so deep she caught her breath. ‘Eden? I can remember you speaking to me, calling me back. You said—’
‘Maude, my love,’ Eden said, with so much sincerity she could not doubt him. ‘My love, my darling, my heart.’ His mouth, taking hers, was gentle; she felt him tremble under her spread hands and her heart soared.
