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She was alive.
“Oh,” Marcelline said. And that was all she could say.
He came to her and then he looked down at the child he held. Taking his hand away from her head, he said, “It’s all right, Erroll. You’re the bravest girl there ever was. You can look now.”
As he gave her back to her mother he said gruffly, “I made her promise not to look. I thought it best she not see.”
He’d seen, though. He’d stared in the face of a fiery death. He’d faced it to save her daughter.
“Thank you,” Marcelline said. Two words. Inadequate, beyond inadequate. But there were no words. These were all the language gave her. All else was in her heart, and that could not be said and could never be eradicated.
The shop stood in blackened ruins. The stench drifted over Chancery Lane and Fleet Street.
It might have been far worse, Clevedon heard people say. The wind had not carried the fire east to the shop on the other side of Chancery Lane, and the fire engine had arrived in time to stop it from destroying the shop next door.
He knew it might have been infinitely worse. They might have lost a child.
Lucie rode her mother’s hip, and Noirot walked with her, back and forth, back and forth, in the street. Now and again her gaze turned upward, to her shop, in ruins.
Her sisters stood nearby, under a lamp post, standing guard over a paltry pile of belongings they must have grabbed before escaping the house. He watched their gazes swing from the shop to Noirot and back to the shop. The redhead held the doll. Even through the smoky atmosphere choking the gaslight he could read the despair in their faces.
They’d lost all their materials—the most expensive element of their business—along with all their tools and records. They’d lost everything.
But the child was alive.
He was aware of the ink-stained fellows from the various London journals converging on the scene. He ought to make himself scarce. The night was dark, the smoke made it darker, and with any luck, nobody had recognized him.
But he couldn’t turn his back on the three women and the little girl, all of them on the street, literally. No shop, no home, no money. He doubted anything could be salvaged from the blackened building.
Still, they had fire insurance, else the engine wouldn’t have come. And he knew that Noirot was practical and mercenary to an aggravating degree. She would have money in a bank, or safely invested.
But money in the bank wouldn’t put a roof over her this night, and he doubted she could have saved enough to rebuild her business in short order.
He stood for a moment, telling himself he couldn’t linger. He’d already dishonored his friendship with Clara and betrayed her love. But only he and Noirot knew that. What Clara didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, and he wouldn’t hurt her for worlds.
Find another way to help them, he counseled himself. There were discreet ways. One could aid those in need without courting notoriety. It was notoriety, furthermore, that would do Noirot no good.
He remembered what the other woman had screeched at her: Everyone knows you’re the duke’s whore. Everyone knows you lift your skirts for him, practically under his bride’s nose.
He remembered what Noirot had told him, early on: What self-respecting lady would patronize a dressmaker who specializes in seducing the lady’s menfolk?
It was time to leave, long past time. The sooner he left, the sooner he could send help.
Marcelline was weary, so weary. What now? Where would they go?
She ought to know what to do, but her brain was numb. She could only hold her daughter and stare at the black ruin of her business, her home, the life she’d built for her family.
“Let me hold her for a bit,” Sophy said. “You’re tired.”
“No, not yet.” Lucie still trembled, and she hadn’t said a word since Clevedon carried her out.
“Come.” Sophy put her hands out. “Erroll, will you come to Aunt Sophy, and let Mama rest for a moment?”
Lucie lifted her head.
“Come,” said Sophy.
Lucie reached for her, and Sophy unhitched her from Marcelline’s hip and planted the child on her own. “There,” she said. “It’s all right, love. We’re all safe.” She started to walk with her, murmuring comfort.
