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Oddly, my mind conjured a picture of Perseus facing Medusa in the ultimate tussle, but I had no weapon to turn him into stone. I could only duck, yet I froze, sluggishly comprehending that I would likely die within the next second.

A body hurtled on top of me, knocking me off my feet as guns simultaneously exploded. I heard a grunt and felt arms wrap around me as I tumbled to the hard floor, knocking the back of my skull in the process.

When I opened my eyes, Rafe’s face hovered over me. He said something, but my ears rang too loudly to perceive it.

He slipped a hand beneath my head and drew me closer. “Bridget, are you all right? Speak to me.”

“I’m fine,” I gasped even if stars floated in my vision.

Rafe exhaled and gently pulled me into a sitting position, cradling me as if he would never let go. Then I spied Mr. Beaumont clutching his arm before he turned on his heel and rushed deeper into the west wing, where the flames awaited him.

Mr. Barron lay on the floor, clutching his side where crimson dripped down his waistcoat and onto the floor, his mouth moving with shock.

“He shot me! Blasted aim for such a high and mighty son of an earl.”

I suspected Rafe fired first as he leaped in front of me. He released me and looped an arm around my waist before lifting me to my feet.

He cupped my cheek for the briefest moment, his intense gaze searching mine.

“I’m truly fine. Two are better than one,” I reassured him.

His lips quirked, softening his stern features. Never again would I labor under the misconception that I had to face life alone.

He reached for Mr. Barron and lifted him with a grunt. “That west wing will collapse. Come, man. Unless you want to burn to death.”

As if to agree, a gust of smoke billowed our way, flooding the area until we were all coughing yet again.

Rafe’s warning gaze met mine when I joined him.

I slid my arm around Mr. Barron and together we supported him as he gnashed his teeth.

We staggered forward, down the staircase, and out into the fresh air where the tenants continued fighting the flames while the abbey groaned and creaked as beams falling echoed.

My father pushed through the crowd, bringing Constable Wickham with him. I ran to Father and flung my arms about his neck, my tears flowing once again.

“Bridget,” Father said, clasping me as though he would never let go. “I found your handkerchief, and Mr. Harrington sent for the constable after Miss Perry came to us. She was beside herself, weeping over what she had done.”

I jerked back. “She betrayed us, Father!”

“She arrived not long after you were taken. She hasn’t stopped crying since, and it seems remorse has taken hold of her.”

I wanted nothing more to do with her.

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 not abandoned 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.