The boy took his teacup, looking almost comical as he sipped from it with both hands wrapped around the basin. He was shaking, making it even harder for him to slake his thirst.
“So, I know something of what you mean about the ash,” Arabella concluded sweetly, careful not to give away that she suspected he was involved in some way. “I had to bathe in one of the huge vats in the laundry and it was at least an hour until I felt clean again. I should have thought to do as you did and taken a swim in the sea instead. Such a clever boy.”
Poor David was no longer pink with pleasure. Instead, he had turned the bright red of shame. His head hung down, chin pressed to his chest, as he lowered his teacup into his lap. The behavior confirmed to Arabella that there was more going on than met the eye, for this sort of remorse did not come from someone who had intended harm.
“I’m sorry, Miss,” he murmured, barely audible.
Arabella patted him tenderly on the shoulder. “Why should you be sorry? You had no part in it. From the sounds of it, you must have been caught near the blaze at the time. Are you injured? I could find some salve or ointment for you, if you are.”
“I’m sorry,” the boy repeated, in a tone so bitterly miserable that it formed a whorl of guilt in Arabella’s stomach. She did not want to torment this poor creature, who had clearly suffered so much from life’s hardships—hardships Arabella knew she could not understand.
I cannot divert from my path now, not without knowing more.
Steeling her resolve, she offered the boy a biscuit. He took one, but stared at it solemnly instead of gobbling it up, as he had done with the last five he had devoured.
“It is the Duchess I feel the sorriest for,” she carried on, tweaking the story as she went. “When I first scented the fire, I went to save the poor woman. She was hiding in her armoire and praying so loudly she did not hear me enter her bedchamber. She truly thought she would burn alive, and so soon before her son was to be happily married to a woman he loved. Do you know of love, David?”
The boy nodded, his eyes shining with tears. “My Mama loved me. Told me every day, kept me clean, kept me lookin’ decent, kept me warm and fed. She’d tuck me in each night, though me Da told her she was coddlin’ me. I didn’t care. Me Ma didn’t, neither.” He paused and a sob wracked his painfully bony chest. “Then she died, not two weeks after Da. I’ve been on me own since.”
“I am truly sorry, David.” Arabella meant it. “How long ago was that?”
The boy shrugged. “A few year. Can’t be sure. Days move odd when you’re on your own. Some are fast, some are slow.”
“I know precisely what you mean.” She sighed heavily, before leaping into another story. The story of a lonely young girl who fought often with a petulant young boy, and how that girl grew into a lonely young woman who never thought she would find joy and happiness, until it came upon her quite unexpectedly. David hung upon her every word, nodding his head at sporadic intervals.
“One day, just like me, the young woman found herself trapped by fire. She was going to die, until the young man burst through the door and scooped her up into his arms. He did not care for the flames licking at him wherever he turned, burning him, singeing him. He would have run through an inferno forever, if it had meant saving the woman.” She paused, twisting the finale. “But when he reached the gardens, carrying his precious cargo, do you know what happened?”
David shook his head. “No, Miss. What?”
“The people standing outside began accusing the young man of starting the fire in the first place. He was of lower station—a farmer’s son—and they did not like that he had saved the young lady. Worse, there was someone in the gathered group whohadset the fire, but he was of higher station and knew no one would believe him capable. However, someone needed to be blamed, so this wretched creature pointed a finger at the young hero and said, ‘He is the culprit! I saw him light the fire! He must be punished!’ It is terrible, really.”
David gasped. “What happened next, Miss?”
“Well, the young lady decided she would speak for her hero. She knew he was not capable of such heinous acts, but she needed evidence against the real culprit. That was when she saw the glisten of… the glisten of oil upon the fingers of the real wretch. She accused him instead, defending her hero out of love. The true culprit was so startled that he began making excuses, saying, ‘I had to! The young lady would have eloped with the farmer’s son, otherwise! I was doing a duty, no matter how awful!’ But it did not matter. The wretch was taken captive by constables, and the young hero walked free with his beloved.”
The story told, a flurry of emotions swirled across David’s face, shifting from confusion, to wonder, to fear, and back to something that looked a lot like courage. If this boy was as clever as Arabella suspected, he would understand the questions she was trying to ask by telling such a tale.
A few minutes later, he looked at her. “Would you defend me if I’d done somethin’ awful, though it weren’t actually me fault?”
“I would, David,” she replied truthfully.
He drew in a shaky breath. “It weren’t me who lit the fire. Well, it were, but not in the way you think, Miss.” He paused. “The Master asked me to set fire to the manor. Said he’d pay me handsome like. More than I could think of makin’ in a whole year. I wasn’t sure about burnin’ down someone’s house, in case someone got hurt. Told him so. He tells me there won’t be no one at home. Said all the folk here had gone off to London. Said no one would be hurt. So, I thinks to myself, I can’t really say no. I agree, and… I think he lied.”
“So do I, David.” Arabella took the teacup from the boy’s hands, and held them, feeling the still-warm roughness of his palms. “I do not think you would have done something so terrible if you had known the truth. You seem to me to be a good boy, who loved his mother dearly. And boys who love their mothers do not bring intentional harm down on others.”
David’s fearful expression softened. “The Master told me to light the fire in that big room with all the stuffed birds. There weren’t no people around, so I didn’t know he’d lied.”
“I set it to burnin’, then I scarpered. Went to them fields with the grapes, too, and lit another fire. Almost got myself burned there, so I didn’t stay long. I goes back to the manor, to make sure all’s happenin’ the way I was asked, and a big chunk of somethin’ falls right by me. That’s how I got covered in ash… and I think that’s when I knew there were people inside. I heard shoutin’. But, I figures, I’ve done it now. Can’t take it back.”
Arabella gave the boy’s hands an encouraging squeeze. “I can protect you from severe punishment, David, but you must answer me one question, and answer it truthfully.”
“Anythin’, Miss. I didn’t mean to get no people hurt. I’m sorry for your leg and what you had to do to get out,” he replied somberly. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
Swallowing uncomfortably, Arabella proceeded. “Who is this Master you keep mentioning? Who is the one who told you to do this? He deserves the full weight of punishment. You do not. I cannot pretend to know what your world is like, but I do know that you can be forgiven because you had no other choice.Ihave already forgiven you.”
“I don’t know his name, Miss.” The boy offered a look of deep apology. “He never told it me. Just said to call him Master, like all them other fancy sorts.”
Fancy sorts?It was not difficult to make the leap that jolted through Arabella’s mind. The Duchess of Wright had spoken of enemies, and they would not be of low station. It appeared one had finally attempted to do more than gossip and whisper.
