Kendra released Fish and straightened to look at Wakely. “Take him to the kitchen and get him something to eat.”
“I don’t want food! I want Edie!” The boy glared at her.
“I’m going to find her,” Kendra said before she could stop herself. She knew better than to make those kind of promises.
Her chest was tight. She had to take a deep breath and let it out slowly before saying, “Go get something to eat, Fish. You won’t be any good to Edwina if you pass out from hunger.”
The kid maintained his hostile stance for a moment, then his shoulders slumped, the defiance draining out of him. Wakely put out his hand to guide Fish to the kitchens.
“Wakely?” Kendra said.
The butler paused. “Yes, madam?”
“Please have the carriage brought around. I need to go to St. George’s.”
He hesitated. “His lordship is on his morning ride. Perhaps you ought to wait until he returns?”
She shook her head and thought,No time. “I’m only following up on a few details,” she said. “Send word to Mr. Kelly. He’ll want to interview Fish about Edwina, then he can join me at the hospital.”
“Very well. Good luck, my lady.”
She bolted up the stairs, racing to her bedchamber to grab a coat and her reticule, and tried not to wonder if time was running out for Edwina.
Or if it was already too late.
***
Kendra strode briskly through St. George’s lobby, only stopping to flag down a sister carrying a mop and bucket. Given the strong stench of vomit, she guessed the woman was on clean-up duty.
“Is Mr. Burnell working today?”
The woman frowned impatiently. “I saw him . . . somewhere. Maybe surgery?”
“Thanks. Where—” But the woman was already moving away.
Kendra jogged up the steps to the second floor and scanned the hall. People were racing up and down the corridor.I’m not the only one feeling a sense of urgency, she reflected.
“Lady Sutcliffe!”
She paused and turned to see Sir Preston coming toward her, his cane tapping out a familiar staccato on the tiled floors.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling as he came to a halt. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. My wife enjoyed your company the other evening. I fear she finds our male conversation quite tiresome.”
Kendra had no time for small talk. “Where’s Mr. Burnell?”
Sir Preston’s eyebrows flew up at her abrupt tone. He peered at her more closely. “Are you all right, my lady?”
“I’m fine. I need to speak with Mr. Burnell.”
“Are you certain nothing is amiss?”
For fuck’s sake. “No. I just need to speak to him. Now.”
“He’s supervising Mr. Beane with his first amputation. He ought to be finished shortly, and will no doubt wish for a respite. Why don’t we wait for him in the lounge, shall we?”
Kendra was forced to slow her impatient stride to match Sir Preston’s slower pace as he guided her down the corridor.
“May I ask why you wish to speak to Mr. Burnell?” he asked, shooting her a sideways glance. “You appear . . . overwrought.”
