An invalid.
Hugh grimaced. At least Simmons had visited earlier in the morning and had brought Hugh’s pajamas and dressing gown, as well as some books.
He didn’t want books, though. He wanted news. Simmons and the nursing sisters said last night’s raid had been the worst they could remember. Rumors on the ward spoke of damage to Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, and more.
What of Beatrice? He’d heard not a word. Surely the arrest of a society woman on four counts of murder—and an attempted murder—would be on every tongue.
The air shifted, and a woman entered the ward. “Aleida!”
He swung his legs to the side to stand to greet her.
She rushed forward. “No, no. The nursing sister said you’re not to get out of bed.”
All he wanted was to touch her, to hold her hand, to embrace her. But he couldn’t. “I’m glad to see you.”
“You look much better.” Wearing a suit of medium blue, she settled into a chair. “How do you feel?”
“Much better, thank you. I should go home in a few days.” Heat rose in his cheeks. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been gasping like a fish out of water. Weak. Helpless. But ... “I’m glad you found me.”
“I was so worried.” The proof of it etched her forehead. “I wanted to follow you to the hospital, but I had to go to the police station and give my statement.”
His pulse quickened. “Beatrice—have they caught her?”
“The police found her in the park. You sent the police to search for me?”
“Yes. I went to search for you myself, but...” But he’d failed.
“Thank you.” Her voice broke, and her eyes shimmered.
“Think nothing of it.” His own voice sounded ragged. “They arrested her? She’s in jail?”
“Yes.” She let out a scoffing sound. “They brought her to the first aid post soon after you departed. She had the nerve to accusemeof attackingher.”
“I beg your pardon!”
“I do take responsibility for the bump on her head and the scratches on her face, but I do not apologize for them. Thank goodness the police didn’t believe her. They had orders to arrest her, and I had her evening bag with her identity card and her gun with—”
“Gun! She had a gun?” Hugh’s hands fisted around the thin blanket.
Aleida dropped her gaze to her lap. “She had already planned to—to kill me.”
Woman or not, Beatrice Granville could be thankful she wasn’t standing in Hugh’s presence. He’d put a fist in that haughty, scheming mouth of hers.
Aleida gave her head a little shake and raised her chin. “The gun will have her fingerprints on it. And I presented other proof.” A quivering hand rose to her throat.
Once again, Hugh could barely breathe. “Proof?”
Her eyes went dark, and she pulled down the collar of her blouse, revealing angry purple bruises.
“Aleida!”
“It’s all over. Beatrice will never hurt anyone again.” She patted her collar back in place. “She confessed all four murders to me, and the police have my statement.”
Four murders and an attempted murder. Beatrice would hang for it.
“I’m afraid your mother’s dress is ruined,” Aleida said. “I’ll pay her—”
“Nonsense. I know she won’t take a shilling from you.”
