Authors: Amanda Grange
‘How did the
fire start?’ asked Mr Hill.
‘That is
something we don’t yet know,’ said Joshua, fixing him with a penetrating
glance.
Mr Hill nodded
in agreement. ‘It will take time to discover the cause. But you are all right,
I hope?’ he asked, looking from one to the other of them and taking in the full
extent of their dishevelment. ‘You have not taken any hurt from the flames?’
‘Fortunately,
no,’ said Joshua. ‘My study is a mess and will need re-decorating, and it will
take me some time to discover if anything of value has been burned, but Miss Foster
and I are both perfectly well.’
‘That’s a
relief,’ said the manager. ‘Still, the fire could have been catastrophic. A lot
of important documents are kept in that room.’
‘As you say,’
replied Joshua.
Rebecca,
watching and listening to both men, detected an edge in Joshua’s voice. Did he
suspect the manager of having started the fire? she wondered. She frowned.
Perhaps she should tell Joshua of what she had seen on entering the mill. She
looked at him, intending to say something, but stopped short. He was giving her
a warning look, and she realized that he did not want her to say any more
whilst Mr Hill was present.
‘See to things
here, will you, Hill?’ Joshua asked. ‘Check the documents and see if anything
of importance has been burned. Then see to the mill. Look for structural
damage, have the buckets of water re-filled and make sure nothing is amiss
elsewhere. I will be leaving now. I am engaged to take dinner with Miss Foster
and her cousin.’
‘Of course,’
said Mr Hill. ‘I’ll check everything personally, right away.’
He left the
room.
‘I thought you
couldn’t come to dinner,’ said Rebecca once his footsteps had died away. She
wondered what had caused Joshua to change his mind.
‘Had you told
Louisa I couldn’t come?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she
admitted.
‘Good. I
wouldn’t have liked to throw her arrangements out. But I have my reasons for
wanting to leave the mill. Reasons which didn’t exist this afternoon.’
‘And what are
they?’ asked Rebecca.
‘Hill,’ said
Joshua succinctly.
‘Hill?’
Rebecca was thoughtful.
Joshua nodded.
‘Yes.’
‘But why
should Hill make you change your plans? What does he have to do with anything?’
she added with a frown.
‘I don’t know.
Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Someone started the fire in my personal
office, and I want to know if it was him. I told him just now that I didn’t
know if any important documents had been burned but it was a lie. I know
exactly what has and has not escaped the flames.’
Rebecca
quickly grasped his point.
‘If it was
Hill who started the fire, and if he did it to burn incriminating documents -
documents which showed he had been stealing from the mill, for example - then
as soon as we have gone he will check to see if they have in fact been burnt,’
she said.
‘And if they
are still intact, he will no doubt avail himself of the opportunity to destroy
them,’ said Joshua.
‘So if any
more documents have been burnt in the morning - documents which are perfectly
all right at the moment - we will know it is Hill who started the blaze. And we
will know why: to hide his own misdeeds.’
‘Exactly.’
‘But I don’t
think it was Hill,’ she said. She shivered slightly as the scene she had
witnessed on arriving at the mill came back to her. ‘I don’t think he started
the fire. I think it was the Luddites.’
The sound of
footsteps coming down the corridor alerted them to the fact that they were
about to be disturbed as Mr Hill organized a party of men to check the mill.
‘We can’t stay
here,’ said Joshua. ‘The men are coming to check for fire damage and refill the
water buckets. You can tell me why you think the fire was started by Luddites
on the way out to the carriage.’ He paused. ‘You did come in a carriage?’ he
asked.
‘Yes,’ she
smiled. ‘With Betsy. Only Betsy fell asleep on the way!’
He laughed. ‘It
has been quite a day for Betsy!’ He became more serious. ‘And for you. Are you
sure you are all right?’
‘I am.’
‘Very well.’
He offered her
his arm and they left the study, going along the smoky corridor and down the
first flight of stairs.
Rebecca was
pleased to be leaving the mill. They could not talk further without being
interrupted, and besides, something had occurred to her that did not seem to
have occurred to Joshua. Regardless of who had started the fire, whether it had
been Mr Hill, Luddites, or some other person, it might not have been important
papers they had been trying to destroy.
It might have
been Joshua.
Recalling the
incidents that had occurred in London - a horse being ridden at Joshua and the
rider aiming a whip at his head; the stone being thrown through the window,
narrowly missing him and landing in his soup - she felt that if someone really
was bent on killing him, he would be safer at Louisa’s than at the mill. The
thought of which made her keener than ever to leave, and leave quickly.
‘Now,’ said
Joshua, as they reached the bottom of the first flight of stairs. ‘Tell me why
you think the fire might have been started by Luddites.’
‘Because when
I arrived I saw a man painting LONG LIVE NED LUDD on the mill wall,’ Rebecca
said.
Joshua stopped
dead. He turned to look at her. ‘A man painting the wall?’
She nodded.
He drew in a
sharp breath. ‘Then it would seem the Luddites are still active.’
Despite his
words, Rebecca detected a note of uncertainty in his voice.
‘But you are
not sure?’ she asked.
‘The Luddites
are well organized and don’t attack without reason. They target mills where the
wages have been lowered, for example, and not mills like ours. It is possible
they have been frustrated by their recent defeats and have changed their ways,
but let us just say I am not convinced.’
They went down
the next flight of stairs.
As they
reached the bottom, Rebecca caught sight of something glittering on the floor -
a red spark. Could it be another fire? she wondered with a shock; before
realizing it was the beading on her missing reticule. She breathed a sigh of
relief. In all the excitement she had almost forgotten about it, but here it
was, waiting patiently for her to find it. She bent to retrieve it.
‘Your
reticule,’ said Joshua.
‘Yes.’ She
closed her hand round it gratefully. ‘The braiding on the handle has frayed,’
she remarked as she examined it. ‘It must have fallen off when the braid wore
through.’
She put it
away in the pocket of her pelisse and together she and Joshua left the mill.
Joshua stopped
briefly in the yard to examine the words, LONG LIVE NED LUDD scrawled on the
wall. His eyes narrowed as he took in the large red letters, which were still
wet and glistening in the moonlight. Then they continued on their way to the
carriage.
‘Did you get a
good look at the man who did it?’ asked Joshua as the gatekeeper greeted them,
expressing delight that Rebecca had found her reticule.
‘Unfortunately,
no,’ said Rebecca as they passed through the gate.’ I couldn’t see him clearly.
He was just a figure in the moonlight.’
‘Then you
would not recognize him if you saw him again.’
Rebecca
considered. ‘I think, actually, I would. Although I did not get a good look at
him, he had a curious way of moving. He walked with a loping gait. I wouldn’t
recognize his features, but I’d recognize the way he walks.’
‘Good. That
will be useful for identifying him if we ever manage to catch him.’
They
approached the carriage, and Rebecca’s thoughts turned to Betsy, who had been
left outside all this time. Although she had not been in the mill for very long
- everything had happened so quickly that it had taken far less time than it
had seemed - she was still worried about the elderly maid. But she need not
have been. As Collins let down the step and Joshua handed her in she saw that
Betsy was still tucked up in the travelling rug. With two stone hot-water
bottles at her feet she was snug and warm and still fast asleep.
As Rebecca
took her seat, Betsy stirred.
‘Why, Miss
Rebecca,’ she said. ‘Are we here already?’
‘We are. And
ready to go home. I have found my reticule,’ said Rebecca.
‘That was
lucky,’ Betsy said, ‘finding it so quick and all. I’m glad you didn’t have to
go into that nasty mill again.’
Rebecca did
not enlighten her, or tell her how long she had slept. If Betsy had realized
she had been asleep for half an hour, and that Rebecca had gone into the mill
without her, she would have been mortified.
‘Mr Joshua is
returning with us,’ said Rebecca as Joshua followed her into the carriage.
‘A good idea,’
said Betsy comfortably, as Joshua shut the carriage door.
And then they
were away, before long arriving at the house, to find Louisa waiting for them.
‘I was
beginning to get anxious,’ she said. She greeted them with relief as they went
inside.
‘No need,’
said Rebecca, smiling reassuringly. ‘We are here safe and sound.’
‘Did you find
your reticule?’ asked Louisa.
‘I did.’
Rebecca held it up to show her. ‘It must have slipped from my wrist. Look, the
braid has worn through.’
‘I thought
that must have been what had happened. But never mind, all’s well that ends
well. And you have brought Joshua with you. I was so hoping he would be able to
come. Oh!’
This last
exclamation was wrung out of her by the sight of Joshua, dusty and grimy, who
was bearing all the signs of having been trapped in the recent fire.
Catching sight
of himself in one of the gilded glasses that hung on the wall, Joshua realized
that his appearance would need some explaining.
‘Unfortunately,
I did not have time to wash before I came,’ he said. ‘Mills can be very dirty
places.’
It was not the
truth, but Louisa accepted his explanation, and Rebecca was glad that Joshua
had spared Louisa any worry, not telling her about the real events of the
evening.
‘I can quite
imagine,’ Louisa said. ‘You will want water and soap. And towels,’ she added,
going into hostess mode. ‘Betsy, will you see to it that Mr Joshua has
everything he needs? Use the guest room,’ she said, turning back to Joshua. ‘I
am so glad you are here. Dirty or not, we are always pleased to see you.’
Betsy, much
refreshed after her short sleep, bid Joshua follow her and Rebecca excused
herself, saying she, too, would like to wash and change before dinner.
‘Of course,
dear,’ said Louisa approvingly. ‘And then, as soon as you are ready, we will
eat.’
After the excitement of
the afternoon Rebecca was glad to be able to relax and eat a superb dinner in
the company of her favourite people. She had not forgotten what had happened in
London
, when a stone had been
thrown through the window, but the dining-room in
Manchester
was at the back of the house and so there
was no danger of a repeat of that incident.
Putting all
worries aside she gave herself up to an enjoyment of the tasty soup.
To begin with,
Betsy had cooked for Rebecca and Louisa, but it had proved too much for her. At
their own home in
Cheshire
she had everything familiar about her, but here in
Manchester
the kitchen was very
different and Betsy was too old to take kindly to change. So, on Mrs Camberwell’s
advice, Louisa had employed the services of a cook.
‘Do I detect
Mrs Neville’s hand in this?’ asked Edward Sidders, as he tasted the soup.
Louisa nodded.
‘I’m indebted to Emily for recommending her to me. She really is an excellent
cook.’
‘She used to
work for Emily at one time, but she was tempted away by a baronet,’ said Edward
with a smile. ‘It is only because he has gone overseas that she was once again
looking for a place.’
‘The baronet’s
loss is our gain,’ said Louisa.
‘I have been
charged with giving you an invitation to my sister’s ball,’ said Edward as the
next course was brought in.
‘A ball. That
will be delightful,’ said Rebecca.
Mr Sidders
turned to Joshua. ‘I hope you, too, will be able to attend. It is to be held
next Thursday. A small affair - my sister’s house has room enough for only ten
couples - but even so the evening promises to be an enjoyable one.’
‘I’d be
delighted,’ Joshua said.
Would Joshua
ask her for one of the dances? Rebecca wondered. Not knowing whether she wanted
him to or not. To dance with him again would be wonderful, but disturbing as
well. She had not forgotten the feelings it had aroused in her when she had
danced with him in
London
.
But when the ball arrived it would be soon enough to worry about such things.