“Major!”
Neil had skidded to a stop and turned at the sound of the child’s voice. He scanned the darkness and the unfamiliar faces of the residents of Spitalfields, who had gathered to watch the fire burn and attempt to stop its spread with buckets of water. He lowered his gaze, and that was when he saw James waving wildly at him. James’s blond hair caught the light from the fire and shone like a beacon. Immediately, Neil spotted other orphans, plus Mrs. Koch and Mrs. Dunwitty.
But he didn’t see Juliana.
He jogged toward the small group, praying he had simply missed her. She would be where he orphans had gathered. She was simply not in view.
Then why did he feel like casting up his accounts and emptying his belly of all the gin he’d consumed tonight?
“Major! Major!” The other boys had spotted him, and they called for him, their voices frantic and their faces mottled with the reflection of the red and gold flames. When Neil reached them, he surprised himself by pulling the closest boys into his arms. Walter looked quite dumbstruck, but James and Michael embraced him back. Neil ran his hands over the boys’ heads and his gaze touched on others—Angus and Sean, Chester and Jimmy.
“You’re safe,” he said. “Where is Lady Juliana?”
James’s gaze dropped and Neil inhaled painfully.
Robbie stepped forward. “I’m glad you’re here, Major.”
“Where is Lady Juliana?”
“She went back inside, sir.”
Neil whirled to stare at the burning building again. Juliana was inside. Memories of the fire that had left Jasper scarred and Peter dead slammed into Neil. He’d let Jasper and Peter down. He couldn’t let Juliana down too.
“Charlie is still inside,” Mrs. Dunwitty said, coming forward, tears streaming down her cheeks and Jimmy clinging to her skirts. “He went back for those rodents.”
Of course he did, Neil thought. He loved those rats.
“The fire started in the servants’ quarters,” Mrs. Koch added, “and spread to the kitchen. The lady still has time to escape.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Billy said, coming up behind them.
Neil gave the boy a hard look. “What does that mean?”
“It means I know Slag, and he’s probably waiting inside for her. He won’t let her out alive.”
*
Julia covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief and made her way through the thick smoke toward the stairs. She could hardly see and she stumbled almost blindly, making her way mostly from memory.
“Charlie!” she called, though she doubted he could hear her over the roar of the flames and the crashes of falling debris. “Charlie!”
Her foot struck something hard and elevated, and she realized she’d reached the stairs. She groped for the banister and pulled herself up the steps, coughing and choking. “Charlie,” she managed in a hoarse voice.
Was it her imagination or had she heard a cry in response? A small, frightened cry, like one a boy might make if he was scared and alone.
“I’m coming, Charlie!”
She made a renewed effort to climb the stairs, grateful that Neil had repaired the boards that had rotted. She couldn’t have avoided them now, and she might have fallen through. She climbed another step, her head spinning and her throat clenching in agony. How she longed for a breath of fresh air or a sip of water. She was so thirsty and so tired.
“Mama!”
Julia’s head snapped up. She had not imagined that. It had been Charlie, and the poor child must have been so terrified he was crying for his mother.
“I’m coming, Charlie. I’m coming!” She found a reserve of strength and climbed quickly to the top of the stairs. “Where are you?” she called, but she knew where he must be. The rats were in the older boys’ dormitory. That was where Charlie would have gone.
She turned to the right, hoping she was correct, stumbling slightly as the floor beneath her seemed to shift and creak. Dear God. The whole house would collapse soon. She had to find Charlie and get out before escape became impossible.
“Mama!” His voice was closer now, and she knew she’d chosen wisely. The smoke wasn’t as thick in this section of the second floor, and she could almost make out the shadowy corridor leading to the older boys’ dormitory.
The door was open, and she saw the shadow of a boy in the center of the room. He held a box—the enclosure Neil had built for the rats—and called out for her. “Mama!”
“I’m here, Charlie!” She raced into the room, her short legs eating up the little distance between them. When she reached him, she threw her arms around him. She hugged him fiercely, then pulled back. “What were you thinking?” she asked, tears of relief mixing with tears from the smoke. “I told you to stay together. Give me the rats. I’ll carry them out. You hold my hand.”
“Oh, Mama,” Charlie said, sticking his thumb in his mouth now that his hands were free. He closed his eyes and burrowed his head into her skirts.
“Charlie, we have to go. We have to—”
The dormitory door slammed shut.
“Not so quickly, my lady. You haven’t paid the toll.”
Julia spun around, pushing Charlie behind her. A large figure loomed before the door. He took a step forward and she saw the burned wreck that was now Mr. Slag.
Twenty-three
“I’m going in,” Neil said, pushing away from the children and starting toward the building, now almost completely engulfed in flames.
“I’ll go with you,” Rafe said, walking at his side, no hesitation in his step.
Neil glanced at him. Having Rafe beside him, at his right arm, seemed eerily familiar. He and Rafe had fought together before, Ewan on his left—Neil’s weaker side—and Rafe on his right. Rafe was ready for battle again, though he looked much readier to dance a reel in the ballroom.
“Stay here,” Neil said, barking the order over his shoulder. “You’ll ruin your coat.”
“I don’t give a fig for my coat.”
“Liar.”
“Fine. I’ll allow you to buy me another.”
Neil paused and faced Rafe. “I need you out here,” he said quietly. “If Slag didn’t come alone, the women and children might be in danger. Stay here and protect them.”
Rafe frowned. “I’m never chosen for the dangerous assignments. It’s always, ‘Rafe, seduce that woman. Rafe, use your charm to distract those villagers.’”
Neil would have laughed if fear hadn’t been clawing a bloody path through his heart.
“Here, take this at least.” Rafe pulled a pistol from his coat.
Neil stared at the pistol and then at Rafe. When the devil had Rafe begun to carry a pistol?
“It’s loaded and ready.”
Neil raised his brows. Correction: When the devil had Rafe begun to carry a loaded pistol?
Neil took the pistol.
“Are you ready?” Rafe asked as Neil strode away.
“I have my dancing shoes on.”
“Hey, one of these days, I want to dance with the devil, eh what!” Rafe called.
Neil ignored him and stepped into the fire.
Flames licked at the walls and the ancient paper hangings decorating the vestibule. The bones of the house were dry and dusty, perfect tinder for a hungry fire. His instinct was to shout for Juliana, but then he’d alert Slag to his presence. Neil wanted the element of surprise on his side.
The rats were kept in the older boys’ dormitory, so that’s where Charlie would have gone to fetch them and where Juliana would have followed. If Slag had been lying in wait, he would have cornered them there. Neil started up the creaky stairs, covering his mouth with his sleeve when he coughed. The smoke filled his lungs and burned his throat. The heat from the fire singed at any exposed skin, but he walked through it.
He would come out with Juliana or not at all.