Twenty-two

Julia stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed at the line of boys in the older boys’ dormitory. “Tell me where he is or, so help me God, not a single one of you will have a bit of the black pudding.”

The seven boys looked to her and then at each other. A few looked at the floor, shuffling their feet. Billy was conspicuously absent, and Julia was furious. He’d promised to stay out of trouble. Hadn’t she made it clear he would have to leave if he did not follow the rules? Her belly felt sick inside, knowing he had snuck out of the orphanage and she would have to evict him for good.

But first she wanted to be certain he was safe.

“I don’t want any of that black pudding anyway,” Walter mumbled.

“What’s that?” Julia asked. “What is wrong with the black pudding?”

Walter’s expression turned mulish, and Julia advanced on him.

“Does Billy’s absence have something to do with that pudding arriving? What? Tell me.”

Walter pressed his lips together. Robbie, who stood on his left, elbowed him hard in the ribs. “Tell her, Walter. Tell her what you told us.”

Julia looked from Robbie to the other boys. She saw she’d mistaken their expressions for guilt. What she saw now that she looked closer was fear.

“It’s a sign,” Walter said, his voice low.

“What sort of sign?” Julia asked.

“From Slag. I seen him send it before. To his enemies.”

Julia pressed her fingers to her temples. Her head pounded relentlessly. “Slag is dead. It can’t be from him.”

“He ain’t dead,” Walter argued. “Not if he sent the black pudding. He’s still alive, and he wants revenge.”

“And you think he’s taken Billy?”

Walter shook his head. “Billy went to see if he could save you—save us.” He made a sour face. “He’s probably dead by now. Killed by Slag. And we’ll be joining him soon.”

His voice hitched at the end, reminding Julia that despite his awful words, he was still a boy.

“I have to go after him. And I won’t let Slag do anything to any of you.”

Suddenly she heard the thunder of running feet and pounding on the walls. “Fire!” Mrs. Koch yelled. “Help! Fire!”

“It’s already too late,” Walter said.

* * *

A familiar rush of heat and icy cold flooded through Neil at Billy’s words. Some men called the feeling battle lust. Neil had never liked to think of himself as a man susceptible to lust.

But at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to slit Slag’s throat from ear to ear. He had no weapon, but then he’d honed his fighting skills until his body and brain had become the weapon.

“Lady Juliana?” Neil barked. He must take control of the situation. He must assess it from every angle.

“She’s safe. I came to you as soon as I could get away.”

“What is Slag planning?”

Billy lifted his shoulder. “I don’t know, but it will be bad.”

Neil did not need to be told as much. Slag would want revenge for the loss of the Ox and Bull and the loss of his position as the crime lord of Spitalfields. He’d have to make an example of Juliana if he wanted to earn back the respect and fear he’d lost.

“Porter!” Neil called, knowing the Master of the House waited nearby. “Flag a hack for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Could you use my help?”

Neil would have recognized Rafe’s slow drawl anywhere. He turned to see his friend leaning negligently in the club’s doorway. “You might wrinkle your cravat.”

Rafe sighed heavily. “Such is the burden I bear.” He pushed away from the door. “I had better come with you despite the danger to my wardrobe. God knows you always forget to watch your back.”

“You sure you’re ready?” Neil asked, climbing into the hackney that stopped before them.

“I have my dancing shoes on.” Rafe clapped him on the shoulder and took a seat beside him. “I rather fancy a dance with the devil.”

This time Neil would make certain Slag was nothing but a pile of bones. If anything had happened to Juliana… If Slag had dared to touch her…

Neil didn’t know how he would go on, knowing he’d left her alone and defenseless. What had he been thinking? He’d been so concerned with his own pride, with his fears that he could never be worthy of her, that he’d put her in danger.

Why hadn’t he listened when she told him she loved him despite his bastardy? Why didn’t he understand that he had the family he’d always wanted right there? A family was stronger together than apart. Together, they’d repaired the orphanage and restored order to the lives of a dozen boys. Together, they’d taken a troubled boy like Billy and taught him to trust them. Together, they had taken down one of the most notorious crime lords in London.

Together, they could do anything.

He had to reach her before it was too late—too late for her and then too late for himself.

* * *

Julia took a deep breath. She could not panic. She had to move the boys safely down the stairs and out of the burning building.

“No pushing,” Mrs. Dunwitty instructed. “Count them when they reach you, Mrs. Koch.”

Mrs. Koch nodded and coughed into her sleeve. The black smoke pouring into the vestibule made it difficult to breathe or see. Her eyes watered and stung, but she would be free soon enough. As soon as Mrs. Koch had sounded the alarm, Juliana had wanted to send the boys down the servants’ stairs and out the kitchen door. But Mrs. Koch had seen her moving the boys that way and yelled, “No! No! The fire is in the servants’ quarters and the kitchen. Ve must go out this vay!” She’d pointed to the front door.

Juliana hadn’t liked that idea. Who knew what, or whom, might be waiting for them right outside the door, but she had little choice if the servants’ exit was consumed by fire. She wasn’t quite ready to blame this all on Slag, as Walter had done. Fires often began in the kitchen, and the kitchen was close to the servants’ quarters. But if Slag was alive and behind the fire, then this might all be a trap.

And very likely, he or his men would be waiting for them outside the door.

“Robbie. Walter.” Julia grabbed the boys’ hands and stalled them as the remaining children continued down the steps with Mrs. Dunwitty shepherding them. “If Slag is behind this, then we don’t know what to expect once we step outside. Be ready, yes?”

“Yes, my lady.”

The look of gravity on the boys’ faces made her heart clench. She didn’t want to give them this responsibility. She wanted them tucked in their beds and fast asleep. She wanted her heart to stop pounding and the fear of losing her boys to disappear. But she couldn’t think of that now. She had to act, not think.

Mrs. Dunwitty stood at the bottom of the steps. “I think we’re missing someone.”

Julia’s heart rose in her throat. She counted all the boys again. “Eleven. Yes, we’re missing someone.”

“Billy went after Slag,” Walter reminded her.

Billy. Why hadn’t he come to her with his worries? Why had he tried to take Slag on himself? Brave, brave boy. She wished she could hug him and tell him she was the one who was supposed to take care of him.

“Mrs. Koch and I will lead the boys out. Mrs. Dunwitty, you follow.” She had meant to say more, but she started coughing again. She had to escape before it was too late. Julia unlocked the door, took a deep breath, and opened it. Men and women had gathered out front, but they were gaping at the building, not lying in wait. Still, she would have to be vigilant.

She stepped outside, pulling Chester and James with her. Next came Walter, his eyes scanning the crowds. He was followed by Angus, Sean, and George. Julia led the boys away from the building and into the shadow of the shop across the street.

“Are you hurt, miss?” a man asked.

“No, I—”

Chester gasped, and Julia turned to see what the matter was. Chester pointed at the orphanage, and Julia gasped. Flames, bright red and orange, shot from the kitchen and into the dark sky. “Oh dear God,” she whispered.

“I want my mama,” Jimmy said, pulling at her skirts. Julia lifted him and hugged him.

“Shh. I have you. You’re safe.”

“I’m scared,” Chester wailed.

Julia lifted him too, hugging both boys tightly. Ralph and Michael pressed close, Robbie keeping vigil beside Mrs. Koch.

“Julia!” Mrs. Dunwitty said, rushing toward her.

“Is everyone out safe?” Julia asked.

Mrs. Dunwitty shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. “The little one, Charlie. He was right in front of me, and he wanted to go back for those rodents.”

“Oh no!” How could she have forgotten the rats?

“Matthew, Mark, and Luke!” Chester cried.

“I told him to forget them, but as soon as we reached the door, he pulled away from my hand and ran back inside. I tried to go after him—”

Julia shook her head. Mrs. Dunwitty could barely climb the stairs. She couldn’t be expected to go back inside a burning building. She handed Chester to Mrs. Koch and Jimmy to Robbie. “I’ll go back for him.”

“I’ll come with you,” Robbie protested.

“No! You will stay right here and keep the other boys safe. I am counting on you, Robbie. Promise me.”

He nodded. “I promise.”

Julia looked at her friend and former governess. “I’ll be right back.”

“I wish you wouldn’t go.” Tears streamed down the older lady’s face.

“I can’t lose him. I’d rather die than lose him.”

“I know. Come back to me. To us.”

“I will!” Julia called as she rushed back into the burning orphanage.

* * *

Neil jumped from the hackney even before it had come to a stop. He’d seen the flames shooting from the orphanage from a half-mile away. From that moment on, Rafe had to physically restrain Neil to keep him in the hackney.

“It will take longer on foot,” Rafe had argued when Neil tried to throw him off. Billy hadn’t moved. He’d sat still as a statue, his face as white as marble.

And when the hackney slowed, Neil hadn’t given Rafe a chance to hold him back. He’d sprung from the conveyance like a cat, sprinting with all he had for the burning building.

“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.