Page 79 of Love with a Notorious Rake

Heroic? Him? He didn’t feel it. Rubbing his stinging eyes, Aidan cast a glance at the crowd watching from a distance. All the workers of the mill were now out of work. The children as well. How, exactly, had he helped these poor people? The poverty in this area would increase tenfold. And what would happen to the children? Would they be taken to another workhouse, where they would be sold by poor law guardians to another master to work as slaves?

Dejected, he hoisted himself onto the rear of the wagon. Delaney was grunting and writhing with pain. The man had saved him when he pushed him out of the way of the falling, fiery debris. It was not something he would soon forget.

* * * *

Bedlam broke out at Middlemiss’s clinic once the wagon arrived. The doctor examined Delaney first, with Cristyn’s assistance, treating the burns on his arm and part of his face. Next was Mrs. McRae. Middlemiss had stated he could smell laudanum on her breath. Using smelling salts, she awoke at last, but would not speak to anyone except to say she had no knowledge of how the fire had started.

But the boy, who said his name was Jonathan, spun a different—and interesting—tale. His mother had observed them digging on the property. Downing numerous glasses of water no doubt laced with laudanum, she became agitated. Storming about the room, she knocked over a lit kerosene lamp. Jonathan, scared at her violent ramblings, ran for the safety of his room. Apparently his mother behaved this way often. Once the fire started, he hid under the bed. When pressed, Jonathan recalled his mother screeching that his father’s secrets were going to destroy them all.

Which indicated that his wife was complicit. When Muggeridge arrived at the clinic two hours later, he stated he would be taking Mrs. McRae to Hinckley jail for questioning.

“And the boy, Jonathan?” Aidan asked.

“We will find a relative to take him in, I am certain.”

“The mill?”

“We managed to keep the fire from spreading to the surrounding wooded area, but as you predicted, once it reached the cotton, it burned dangerously fast. Not much remains of the structure, except the brick walls. The good news is no one was injured; the horses and wagons were rescued, as well as some of the cotton bales. Is it worth rebuilding? That is the question.”

“What will happen to the workers in the interim? The children? They are blameless in this sordid episode, yet will suffer the worst,” Aidan snapped. He shook his head. “Forgive my temper. It’s all so blasted unfair.”

Muggeridge nodded. “It is. But I will approach the queen on this. Perhaps there can be a sort of temporary financial assistance until this village and the surrounding district is put to rights. The hold that masters have on their workers, whether at the mill or in the making of stockings, is coming to an end. You have my word, and I speak for the crown.”

Well, that was good news. “The nineteen children…”

Muggeridge flipped through his papers. “I thought there were twenty-one?”

“Two are staying under my direct care. I do not wish for the remainder to be sent to the workhouse. Surely we can locate a decent orphanage for them. They must be given a chance to find a family willing to take them in. I’ll pay for their upkeep until it can be achieved.”

“I may know of a couple of places. Allow me to contact them. In the meantime, however, where will they go?”

Aidan rubbed his forehead. He had an almighty pain throbbing across his temple. “Where are they now?”

“Some of the villagers have taken them in.”

“Then perhaps the villagers will continue to see to their care until they can be relocated. Again, I will take up the expense. I will ask Samuel to go door-to-door and make arrangements.”

Muggeridge held out his hand. “Then I had best be off to Hinckley. I can assure you, justice will move swiftly. As for the bodies of those poor, unfortunate children, I have taken possession of a barn near the mill. They are under guard. Your man, Samuel Jenkins, knows where it is. I will speak to Middlemiss before I depart, for I wish for him to examine them as soon as he is done here.”

Aidan took the man’s hand and shook it. “Until we meet again.”

“May it be under better circumstances.”

Muggeridge departed to find Middlemiss. Cristyn moved to Aidan’s side and slipped her arm about his waist. “You must sit. You’re as white as a sheet.”

Aidan allowed her to lead him to a chair. “How can you tell under all the soot?”

Reaching for a damp cloth, she gently washed his face. “I am a nurse; I can tell.”

“A highly competent nurse.” He grimaced. “My damned head is aching.”

“I will get you something to relieve it.” She continued to stroke his cheeks. “You’re a true hero, Aidan. My hero. You never gave it a thought; you ran into the burning building to rescue the woman and the boy. I was frightened. If anything had happened to you…”

He took her hand and kissed the palm. “But nothing has. And Lottie?”

“She’s awake and sitting upright. First, allow me to fetch your headache powder. I will place it in a cup of tea.” Cristyn kissed his forehead and left him alone.

The clinic was quiet for the first time in the past two hours—except for Mrs. McRae crying quietly as she and her son were taken to the wagon outside. He should feel sympathy for their predicament, for the lad at least. He would wind up with a relative, and hopefully would be protected from the worst of what his parents had done. But the woman? If she was complicit, she deserved justice. Hell, he had not imagined this operation coming to such a dramatic conclusion.