Gothic Romance - (LGBT)

Chapter Eleven

"Look!" 

"Up there! On the roof!" 

Jonathan was just about to enter the house when he heard the shouts.  

He ran back and looked up to see a figure etched against the skyline, poised on the edge of the roof. That must be Harry, he thought, surely it was too short to be Lord D'Anvers. Where was Sebastian? Anxious about his Lord's safety, Jonathan didn't even realise that he had thought of him by his given name. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed in the air. As he watched, a second figure climbed out of the window below and began to climb upwards over the ivy. 

Thank god! thought Jonathan. Heart in his mouth, he watched as, hand over hand, D'Anvers climbed up and up until he reached the top and was able to haul himself onto the roof. 

Jonathan smiled in relief, before he realised the danger. The roof was too high. If they jumped from there, they would die. 

"It's too high! Can you climb down?" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. 

Lord D'Anvers looked down and saw Jonathan, wrapped in a blanket, staring up at him. He saw Evelyn, next to Mrs Maitland. The fear around his heart loosened a fraction. They were safe! Thank god! He could feel the heat already building beneath his boots. He looked across at Harry. His eyes were wild, his mouth open, panting from the exertion to get up there.  

"Harry, it's not safe up here. We have to climb down, all the way down to the ground. Do you understand?" D'Anvers searched his eyes desperately for a sign of sanity but all he could see was avid excitement, madness. Harry's hands were red and inflamed, burnt. 

Until that moment, Lord D'Anvers had assumed the fire was an accident. Now he wondered, had Harry set the fire deliberately?  

The heat from the roof beneath his feet was getting fiercer. He could see tendrils of smoke escaping upwards through hidden gaps in the slate, hear the crackle of flames in the room below. 

Why were they hesitating? Jonathan bit his lip. It seemed Harry was being uncooperative. Did he even understand they were in danger? He knew D'Anvers wouldn't want to leave him, but surely he would realise that he might have to, to save his own life? No, he thought despairingly, he wouldn't, D'Anvers would save Harry or die trying. 

Jonathan's brain began working overtime, trying to come up with another solution. He knew there were ladders in the barn, but he didn't think they would reach anywhere near high enough. The barn!  

"Get the hay wagon!" he shouted to the nearest manservant. The footman stared at him in confusion. "We'll fill it with hay," he explained excitedly, "If they can't climb down, they'll have to jump!" 

Luckily, Jenkins the stableman, understood what he was getting at and hurried towards the barn, followed more slowly by James, who still wasn't convinced the young tutor knew what he was talking about. 

D'Anvers wasn't sure if he could wait for the wagon. Harry was standing too near the edge, waving his arms in agitation, showing no sign that his reason was returning. It seemed clear that the only way he was going to get Harry off the roof, was if he knocked him unconscious and carried him down. He looked again at the ivy. If he tied Harry's arms around his neck, could he manage to climb down it? Would it bear their weight? 

He could see the men bringing the wagon out of the barn, but the old horse was fighting them every step of the way, terrified by the smoke and flames.  

Whoosh! D'Anvers spun around to see a sheet of flame burst through part of the roof, sending the slate tiles crashing down into the room below. They couldn't wait any longer, they had to go now! 

"Harry! Come to me! I'll help you down." He reached out a hand, but Harry ignored it.  

Harry had turned as well to face the fire. He was staring at the orange tongues leaping out of the hole behind him, as if fascinated. The next moment, he stepped forward, without a sound, straight into the flames. And disappeared into the inferno below. 

D'Anvers could do nothing except stare in horror. Harry! No! 

A shout from below, broke the spell that had him fixed to the spot. "My Lord! Come down, now!" 

Ruthlessly, D'Anvers made himself push the image of Harry to the back of his mind. There would be time and enough to grieve later. Harry was beyond help, it wouldn't do anyone any good if he were to die here too. 

On the ground, Jenkins had taken hold of James' neckcloth and made a bandage for the horse's eyes. Once the terrified animal could no longer see the flames, they were able to lead the horse and wagon to the castle wall. The wagon, piled high with hay, was now in place against the wall. The horse was safely back in the barn, the last thing they needed was a panicking animal in the middle of everything else.  

Very carefully, D'Anvers crouched down as near to the edge of the roof as he could get, dangled his legs over the side and grabbed a handful of ivy in each hand. Keeping his body as close to the wall as possible, he climbed ever so slowly down the ivy, hand by hand, inch by inch, his boots scrabbling for toeholds. Twigs and leaves scratched his face as his hands scrambled to find the thickest branches, but he scarcely noticed. 

How much further? He didn't dare look down, risk losing his balance. 

Something cold and wet landed on the back of his hand. He stared blankly as another drop fell and another. It was raining. At last. Thank god! That would do more to quench the fire than all the buckets from the well. 

Then the branch in his left hand pulled away from the wall. He grabbed for another, but only caught wet leaves. The next second - he was falling backwards through the air. 

He landed in the hay wagon, the air knocked out of him, rain falling on his face. He lay gasping, as hands rushed to help. 

"Are you all right, my Lord?" That was his butler's anxious voice. 

"Let me through. Don't move him, until I see whether we need to send for the doctor." That was Jonathan, taking charge. A second later Jonathan was kneeling beside him in the wagon, gently running his hands over his body, checking to see if anything was broken. 

Eventually D'Anvers got his breath back. "I'm fine," he said, sitting up. Eager hands reached forward to help him out of the wagon. 

"Harry?" asked Jonathan, in a low voice. All he had been able to see from the ground was the fact that Harry had suddenly disappeared. 

D'Anvers shook his head, looking grim.  

"Dead."