Either way, Eleanor was losing consciousness.
Twice in one day,she thought wryly.Just my luck.
Darkness nibbled at the edge of her vision. She was vaguely aware of the door creaking and groaning, the fire longing to burst through the wood and come flying out through the window, swallowing air in its wake.
That would be the end of her, certainly. She hoped to be unconscious by the time the fire whooshed through.
Louisa can have my whole share,Eleanor thought, with a pang of misery.What difference would it make, really, if I died? Nothing would change. Nothing.
She closed her eyes. Her headache had gone. She felt oddly light-headed now, and ready for sleep. She was so, so tired. The factory workers had gotten out.
In the back of her mind, Eleanor knew that she should haul herself to her feet and stick her head out of the window. The airwould be a little fresher there, and she would attract attention, and maybe receive help.
Nobody saw me, though. Nobody ever does. I’m not meant to be here.
The noise from outside, the shouting and panicked cries, began to fade away, as did the crackling and groaning from the fire.
None of it mattered anymore. Eleanor began to fade away, drifting unconscious. She felt as though she were floating. It was almost pleasant, actually. She knew, in the back of her mind, that she was dying, that every breath was killing her, even before the fire could get to her.
It didn’t matter. That was a relief.
I worked so hard, fought so long, but in the end, none of it mattered. All my hard work, gone to nothing.
It occurred to her then that her sketches, already torn to pieces, would be nothing but ash in a very few minutes. This struck her as remarkably funny and began to laugh. She was still laughing when consciousness drifted away from her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Henry saw the plume of smoke rising into the sky and broke into a run.
The streets behind him were gridlocked, carts and carriages trapped in place with nowhere to go, what with traffic being directed away from the fire at the Fairfax factory.
Henry had simply jumped out and begun to walk.
He’d gone to Jonathan and Louisa’s house first, determined to talk to Eleanor right away. He was told that she’d gone running out of the house, and they didn’t know where she’d gone.
Henry knew, though. Heart pounding, he’d climbed back in the carriage and immediately requested to be taken to the Fairfax offices.
Which were, it seemed, on fire.
The workers were clustered in front of the building, talking frantically. Flames were licking out of some of the windows, smoke pouring out.
A man that Henry recognized as the factory foreman came hurrying over, face white.
“Miss Fairfax is up there,” he gasped, pointing up at the highest floor. “She came in just an hour ago. I didn’t see her come down, but the fire bell started ringing up there.”
Henry sucked in a breath. “Someone needs to get to her.”
“I tried, your lordship! The stairs are ablaze.”
A cold chill ran through Henry’s heart. He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm.
A problem-solver. I’m a problem solver. I can do this.
“Which is the window to her office?” he asked, scanning the front of the building. There was a drainpipe running down. He could climb it. He could. Maybe.
“That one,” the foreman pointed.
Henry squinted through the stinging smoke. The wind was blowing the smoke towards them, and his eyes were already watering. The window the foreman pointed out was open, smoke pouring from it, but no flames yet.
