Page 61 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford
“My sister and I were there for two years before tragedy struck,” he began, “One night, when we were asleep in our dormitories, a call went out that a fire had broken out. The boys and girls slept separately, of course, and the boys reached the yard first. I do not believe that whoever set the fire intended it to spread quite so quickly; by the time the girls began to file out the door, the entire building was up in flames.”
Eudora quietly pictured the scene, a sense of terror in her heart. Fire was a deadly foe—as children, her parents had lectured their daughters endlessly on the dangers of leaving a burning tallow unattended or forgetting to place a guard before the fireplace before leaving the room.
“I still remember the hope,” Mr Lowell continued, his voice thick with sadness, “Watching the door in the hope that Hannah would appear.”
“You never saw her again?” Lord Delaney asked, with a slight catch to his voice.
“Only her body,” Mr Lowell confirmed, “She was found hiding under her bed, clutching the doll our mother had made her. I was told I was lucky that it was the smoke that killed her and that it gave me a chance to say goodbye. I learned later that it was well known that Lord Albermay was losing money on his venture and that the fire was started deliberately so that he could claim from his insurance company. My sister died so that a viscount could fatten his purse.”
The cruelty of it all brought tears to Eudora’s eyes. She discreetly wiped a tear away, hoping that no one would note. When she dropped her hand, however, Lord Delaney took it in his own and squeezed it, comfortingly.
“And how did you end up here?” Rob queried, breaking the sad silence.
“Through hard work,” Mr Lowell gave an ironic laugh, “After the fire, I was sent to work in a factory outside of Yeovil, cotton this time. I was a quick lad, I could read and write, and I worked my way up from the floor to become assistant to the factory owner.”
“Mr Lowell?” Eudora guessed.
“The one and only,” he confirmed, “Mr Lowell was a kind man, quite unusual in business. As his empire expanded, he brought me with him. I oversaw several of his factories, looked after his accounts, and even managed his correspondence. Imagine my surprise when one day I opened a letter from a new associate to find that Mr Lowell was invited to attend a party with the man who had caused my sister’s death. Fate can be cruel, but she can sometimes be kind.”
The man, previously known as Mr Lowell, shook his head in irritation at the memory.
“I insisted he accept,” he continued, “I even offered to drive the carriage myself. Along the way, Mr Lowell took a fit of sorts. He keeled over at the side of the road, clutching at his arm. I tried to revive him, but my efforts were futile.”
At this point in the tale, the gentleman looked regretful. He glanced at them as though seeking forgiveness before he continued.
“I am not proud of it, but a madness overcame me,” he said, “I had thought to come here to kill Lord Albermay and hang for my crime. When I saw Mr Lowell lying dead on the ground, I realised that I might carry out my plan and still live.”
“You knew that Ivo and Mr Lowell had never met,” Eudora supplied, earning herself a rueful nod.
“I intended to come back for the body and abandon the carriage in a place where it would be discovered,” he clarified. “I am not entirely heartless.”
“Did you not worry that someone else might hang for your crime?” Robert interrupted, his words making Eudora think of poor Lady Albermay.
“I did not think, my lord,” he admitted, “But when I realised that Lady Albermay was the main suspect, I engineered a distraction.”
“Mable,” Eudora breathed, recalling that she had seen the maid loitering in the corridor near the room where Mr Lowell—or whoever he was—had whiled away his days.
“Foolish girl,” he frowned uncomfortably, “Though she is not entirely to blame for her downfall—rich men can be so careless with their servants’ lives. She was angry and humiliated; it was easy enough to encourage her into framing Lord Albermay.”
“You would have allowed an innocent man to hang?” Robert challenged.
“You and I both know, my lord, that would not have been the outcome,” he answered, his voice flat, “Men like Lord Albermay are above the law.”
“That does not mean that you can take the law into your own hands,” Robert chastised, though Eudora sensed little conviction behind his words.
“As I said, my lord, if given the opportunity, I would do it all again to avenge my sister’s murder. If I must hang, so be it.”
Fear bloomed in Eudora’s heart; though she could not condone what the man had done, she did not want to see him die for Lord Albermay’s sake. The viscount had stolen his sister from him—a loss so great that it pained Eudora to even imagine it.
Despite her best efforts, Eudora could not hold in an anguished sob—seeing this man hang was not justice. Robert glanced at her, his brown eyes concerned as he attempted to read her thoughts.
A lengthy pause fell, in which the only sound to be heard was from the stallion in the corner, whinnying quietly and scratching at the hay with his hoof.
“Should the law catch up with you, you will hang,” Robert finally said, before adding; “I expect you’ll want to leave now, so you have a good head-start.”
Eudora almost laughed aloud at the look of abject confusion that crossed the man’s face, though she imagined her own expression was just as confused.
“I know what it is to love a sister,” Rob explained as he took the rag doll from Eudora’s hand to return it to its rightful owner. “I cannot say that I would not have done the same if in your shoes. Now, go. Lord Crabb will rise shortly, and I am bound to explain what has happened here if only to clear Lady Albermay’s name and repatriate Mr Lowell’s body home.”
