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There was a strain to his voice; just because he had survived the metal rod didn’t meant it hadn’t damaged him. “We’ll get you to Quick and stitch you up there. There must be a carriage left that didn’t burn.” I glanced in the direction of the barn, but the galley was empty now where Carlyle’s wagon usually resided.
“I can help with that, Mistress, if you don’t mind.”
It was McKenna, making her way across the heather toward us. She wore her men’s boots and a tartan cape and though her gray-streaked hair was a bit wild, it was clear she’d bathed and rested.
“McKenna! You came back.”
“Of course, little mouse. Even burned and gone, this is my home. Did you really think I could leave it for long?” She motioned behind her, to where Carlyle was hitching the mule and wagon, staring off at the ruins of his home. “We took the girls to Quick last night and settled them down. I reported the fire to the authorities—said it was caused by an errant spark in the fireplace.” Her voice trailed off as her gaze drifted to the courtyard, where the bodies of the dead still lay, starting to bloat in the morning sunlight. “There’s much work to be done, eh?”
I’d never been so thankful for someone so practical. Her tired face with the laugh-line wrinkles and the shock of white hairs mixed in with the red. Such a quiet woman, but there was strength there. I couldn’t possibly manage this place without her, Elizabeth had said. Maybe, with McKenna’s help, I could be as good a mistress to Ballentyne as Elizabeth had been.
Carlyle came over, a deep frown on his face. He and I had never really gotten on, but he’d been there when I’d needed him, and for that I would be in his eternal debt.
“Came to see if there was anything worth salvaging,” Carlyle said, and then nudged Montgomery’s unconscious leg with the tip of his boot. “He’ll do, for a start.”
“Would you mind taking him back to Quick?” I asked. “We can stay at the inn for a few days until he and Edward are both recovered.”
“Aye,” he said, and signaled to Balthazar. “Help me load ’em up in the wagon, won’t you, big fellow?” The two of them loaded Montgomery gently on the saddle blanket, and Carlyle took his seat at the front and picked up the reins.
I rested an arm over the wooden wagon bed, brushing Montgomery’s hair out of his eyes. “I’ll see you soon,” I whispered to him. “There are a few things I have to do first.”
I gave the signal to Carlyle, who clicked to the mule, and the wagon rolled off down the muddy road. Balthazar and I watched it go. With a deep sigh, Balthazar turned toward the courtyard.
“Lot of bodies, Miss,” he grunted. “I’d best get started on the graves; the ground is frozen, so I’ll have to sink them in the bog.”
“I’ll help you.”
He shook his head. “You inhaled a lot of smoke, Miss. You need rest as well. Edward can help; he’s strong, even now.” He lumbered off.
I faced Ballentyne, watching the smoke rise. The roof of the southern tower had caved in, but the stone bones still stood sentry over the moors. I thought of the winding steps that led to the secrets those rooms once held: Hensley’s room with the cages of rats, and above it, the laboratory. All of it now reduced to ashes.
Just like Lucy.
“Parts of the house have burned before,” McKenna said, standing beside me. “When my mother was a girl a fire started in the southern tower and took the entire wing. There’ll be demolition to do, plenty of wreckage and cleaning, but the walls have stood for hundreds of years, and look—they’re still standing. We’ll rebuild. In a few years it’ll be good as new. We can wire electric lights properly, as Elizabeth always wanted. And we can expand the servants’ rooms to bring more girls here. So many of them have nowhere else to go, you know. It’ll be grand.” She clasped her hands. I stared at the wreckage. Whatever lofty vision she saw there, I saw only ashes and smoke.
At my silence, she wrung her hands. “Of course, you’re the mistress now. It’s entirely your decision how we rebuild. I’d be grateful to offer some advice, just because I’ve spent my whole life here. Was born in the guest room on the second floor, as a matter of fact. And my mother before me, and her father. This is my home, Mistress, but it’s your estate. You let me know your plans, and I’ll see them carried out.”
I squinted at the manor, trying to see the potential there. Elizabeth had entrusted this all to me, along with the secrets the walls held. Ballentyne had been her dream—but was it mine?
“No,” I whispered.
McKenna’s eyes went wide. “You don’t want to rebuild? But Mistress, surely you understand—it’s useless as ruins. . . .”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said gently. “I mean I don’t want to rebuild. Ballentyne has never been my home, not like it was Elizabeth’s, and not like it’s yours. You should rebuild it, McKenna. I’d like to give it to you. The building—what’s left of it—the land, responsibility for the staff.”
She stared at me like I was speaking some foreign language, and then shook her head emphatically. “I couldn’t. Not in a thousand years.”
“Why not? Elizabeth told me you knew this place better than she did. She said she couldn’t run it without you.”
“But it isn’t my inheritance,” she pressed. “My family’s always been the caretakers. The von Stein family has always owned it. It’s passed down from generation to generation. I’m not of that family. You are. You’re related by blood.” She wrung her hands harder. My offer had truly troubled her.
“Sometimes inheritance has nothing to do with blood. It’s about what’s best for Ballentyne, and that’s you.”
She gaped at me. “Are you certain, Miss?”
I thought of Jack Serra, flipping his fortune-telling cards in the light of a lantern, talking to me about finding my fate. I pressed a hand against the charm around my neck. I didn’t know what my fate was now, but I knew Ballentyne wasn’t it.
“I am.” I smiled, looking at the building. Now I was starting to see how it could thrive again, but under McKenna’s care. “But first, I need to say my good-byes.”
FORTY-ONE
THE RUINS WERE SURROUNDED by a deep quiet. Most of the stone walls still stood, giving the manor its iconic shape. I imagined that from a distance a traveler wouldn’t even know it was ruined. It wouldn’t be until he came closer and saw the sunlight glinting through gaps in the stone that he’d realize it was only a shell.
