“The boy is sick and injured.”
Joseph’s eyes snapped to Kendrick’s. “You won’t?—”
“No.” Blood wouldn’t do any good at this point. Vampire blood was not intended for true healing. It fixed at its own fixed rate and purpose—and sometimes the fix happened after death.
Joseph relaxed infinitesimally. “Would you like my help? I was a doctor—once.”
Kendrick felt Genevieve still beside him. “Come, and welcome,” he said, ascending the stairs.
In the cleaned and refreshed master bedroom, Kendrick set the boy on the bed and stepped back, taking the dog from Genevieve so she and Joseph could assess the patient. He held the quivering puppy under his arm as he set coal in the fireplace and lit the tinder. They’d need it warm in here to sweat the sickness out of him.
“I’ll ask someone to heat water, shall I?” he said. “I doubt he’s ever seen a tub.”
“Please,” Joseph said, rolling up his sleeves.
“What else will you need?”
Joseph hesitated and then rattled off a list of things. “For fever, for plasters, for disinfecting these cuts. An apothecary—pharmacist,” he corrected himself, “will have them. Do you want me to write them down?”
“I’ll remember.” If he didn’t, he’d wake up a doctor and ask him. Before Kendrick left, he acquired a box and rags from Robbie and set the puppy in it close to the room’s fire. It would need a good wash, too, before reuniting with the boy. Then he relayed the request for hot water to the kitchens. They had plenty on hand because they had been scouring surfaces this eve.
Acquiring the rest of the items in the dead of night, short of breaking into shops and finding the right supplies in the dark, took some doing. Kendrick had to knock on the doors of a few shops before he found one where the proprietor lived in a flat above. Then he had to make the man agreeable to his will—not hard, but taking a little time if he didn’t want to sublimate the man entirely. Then the pharmacist had to find all the items, and a few things he didn’t have. But he was able to direct Kendrick to another shop that might, and then Kendrick had to ensure he wouldn’t remember any of this before sending him back to bed. And then he repeated the process all over again at the next shop. And while he was out, he might as well get food for the boy as well, since they certainly didn’t have any of that, and then he must stop a milkman and get milk for the boy and the dog.
By the time he was returning to Carmine House, the earliest wave of knocker-uppers had just taken to the streets with their long sticks and their peashooters, rousing factory workers and others who needed to rise before the sun. Kendrick passed them with a nod and kept on until the streets broadened and the thoroughfares became cleaner, though more carriages passed carrying the members of thehaute ton,or whatever they called the London upper-class nowadays, home from parties and social events. A group of drunken gentlemen passed him singing a rousing chorus of “Here We Come A-wassailing.”
“Sheason’s greetingsh to you, shir,” one of them called, doffing his hat in splendid flourish and nearly falling on his face before one of his friends hauled him back up.
Kendrick smiled as he went around the house to the kitchen door. How many days was it until Christmas? He had lost track.
Robbie met him at the door and relieved him of half his burden. “Joseph’s been a regular martinet. Did you know he was a doctor?”
“No, but it doesn’t surprise me that he is proficient in leechcraft.” The look in his eyes—a man who had healing hands forced to dark deeds.
“He wants some of this boiled and steeped and whatnot, but he wants the rest of it on the double. Oh, food.” He blinked in mild surprise. “Smart.”
“The boy?”
Robbie shrugged. “Still breathing.”
Kendrick found the boy tucked up into the bed—smelling much better, along with the dog. His eyes were bright and glassy, but he was lucid, based on the baleful glare he shot at Kendrick over Genevieve’s shoulder.
“Wonderful, wonderful,” Joseph said, taking Kendrick’s burden from him before muttering to himself about dosages.
“How long, exactly, has it been since you were a doctor?” Kendrick asked in an undertone.
“I’m not going to bleed him, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Joseph said tartly. “I’ve kept up with the scientific journals published.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Kendrick said sincerely before moving to Genevieve’s side. “How is he?”
“Better. His fever’s gone down.” She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the hair back from the boy’s face. “Fletcher, I never knew you were so handsome under that layer of dirt.”
As small boys never find being handsome a virtue, he made a face. “Who’s the cove?” Deep suspicion laced the words.
Genevieve opened her mouth and then hesitated. “Well, I think…I’m going to marry him?”
The boy’s jaw dropped. “Coo!”
Kendrick was unprepared for the rush of delight and triumph that surged through him. Getting a hold of himself, Kendrick looked down at her and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you?”
