“It is an amazing thing how many bitter, angry people there are in the world,” Dr. Alton replied, not at all unkindly. “Ah, here are the footmen, the gardener, and the stableman with the table-top. We shall have you up to a guest room and more comfortable before you know it, Mr. Rudge. Mrs. Henshaw has directed the maids to put a tin bathtub in your guest quarters, and we shall have that soot off you and you into a fresh nightshirt. No, no, do not protest. We must have the miasma from that room off you so that you can breathe more easily.”
Evelyn started to follow the men carrying Mr. Rudge.
“Bide a moment,” Mr. Alton said. “I caught a little of what Mr. Rudge was telling you, but I assure you that I will keep it in confidence. But because of it, we will keep a guard on his room. It is just bad luck that this should all happen before the men that Constable Morris has requested have come from London.”
“Thank you for keeping still about it,” Evelyn said. “He is worried that he is the cause of all these things.”
“I’ll not deny they seem to center around him,” Dr. Alton agreed. “But he is scarcely the cause. As you pointed out, it takessomeone who is truly depraved to create an incident such as this. Had you not awoken the house, you could all have been burned alive in your beds.”
“That certainly seems excessive for keeping someone from claiming their inheritance,” Evelyn said, giving a little shudder.
“Indeed it does,” the physician agreed. “Go, get yourself cleaned up, and visit with the Duchess, who is, no doubt, in a nervous fervor over this. When we have Mr. Rudge all clean and in his bed, you can come in and see him. By then, I vow, the Duchess will be able to spare you to sit with him for a time.”
“But…” Evelyn started to protest.
“No, no, do as I ask, Mrs. Swinton. The Duchess is upset, and I would prefer not to have two invalids on my hands this day.”
“Very well,” Evelyn agreed. She went to her room and shivered through washing her hands and face, then changing into a clean chemise, petticoats, and a simple day gown. She had to own that she felt far more capable than she had a few minutes before, and mentally thanked Dr. Alton for his kindness.
When she went to the Duchess, she found that she was, indeed, in quite a state. Betty was with her, looking the worse for wear with a smudge of soot on her nose, and her normally pristine cap eschew.
“I am here, Betty,” Evelyn said.
“How is he, Mrs. Swinton?” the Duchess asked at once. “How are all of them?”
“Mr. Rudge was awake and talking when I last saw him, Your Grace. According to Dr. Alton, Jemmy has escaped with nothing worse than an aching head. Mr. McElroy was uninjured except for straining his weak arm, but will have difficulty getting about until someone makes him a new leg.”
“Such dreadful, dreadful goings on!” the Duchess exclaimed. “Betty, thank you, child. You have done very well. Go get cleaned up, and get some rest. Mrs. Swinton will do for me now.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Betty acquiesced, curtsied, and departed.
“How is he, really?” the Duchess asked.
“I am not sure, Your Grace. It is certain that he swallowed a great deal of smoke. Dr. Alton looked very grave, but wants to get him into a warm bath and get all the smoky garments off him. Mr. Wilson has placed him in one of the guest chambers. Is that all right?”
“Perfectly fine,” the Duchess replied. “It would be difficult to care for him in one of the servant rooms. I have no idea why they were made so small. George and I often spoke of making them larger. But it takes a great deal of money to make changes in a house this old.”
“Did you always live here?” Evelyn asked, hoping to take the older lady’s mind off the near-tragedy that had just occurred.
“Not always,” the Duchess smiled. “We lived in the Main House when we were first married, and George’s mother lived here until her death. She was a stern old lady, very proper. She and Mrs. Henshaw got on a treat. It was very awkward for me, because Mrs. Henshaw, to this day, does not always remember that I am not her youthful charge.”
“That is the problem with those who remember us as children,” Evelyn agreed. “But there is no one I would rather have about in an emergency. She always knows just what needs to be done.”
“Well, well,” the Duchess gave a little laugh, “She has had plenty of practice at looking after me and mine. She was my nurse, then my personal maid, then she was Darrius’s nurse until he grew old enough to need a manservant and tutor instead. How is she holding up under all of this?”
“Admirably,” Evelyn replied. “While Mr. Wilson and the footmen dealt with the fire and smoke, she was busy organizing a padded table and a room for Mr. Rudge. Now, what can I do for you, Your Grace? I know this is well past your usual bedtime.”
“Well, we can hardly send down to the kitchen for tea, now can we?” The Duchess made a grim attempt at humor.
“No, indeed. But it is just possible that Mrs. Henshaw has some tea brewing somewhere. Shall I call her?”
The Duchess gave a nod, almost like a frightened child who truly does need her nanny.
In just a few minutes, Mrs. Henshaw appeared, looking as pristine and calm as ever. At Evelyn’s inquiry, she smiled. “To be sure, we do have some tea brewing in the servants’ dining hall. And Mr. Wilson has some spices put by in the butlery. Dr. Alton is still in the house, so I shall ask him if you can have something a little stronger to help you sleep.”
With that, the housekeeper went off to make inquiries. Evelyn went about the room, tidying up various bits of this and that, straightening tables and clearing off the tea table.
In good time, Mrs. Henshaw came back with a tea tray laden with a teapot, a tray of biscuits, and a bottle of red wine.
