By the time Brisbane entered the study, I had managed to tidy myself, but I need not have bothered. He was looking rather less than dapper himself.
As always, his clothes were impeccable, but his face was still pale and drawn. He carried his walking stick, the same handsome ebony affair I had seen him carry before. But it seemed to me that he leaned on it rather more heavily now, and the silver head remained clutched in his white-fingered grasp. He was wearing a pair of smoky tinted spectacles that he did not remove as he greeted me. He surveyed the room for a moment, then seated himself with his back to the desk. I could not imagine why he should choose that chair—it was small and badly in need of fresh upholstery.
But as I took my seat, I realized that by choosing that particular chair he kept the bright lamp of the desk behind his shoulder, where it would not cast a glare into his eyes.
I looked at him, apprehensive, but he anticipated my question.
“I took the precaution of loitering until I was certain there was no one about to see me call,” he said, his voice thin and brittle.
I smiled my thanks at his discretion.
“Would you care for tea, Mr. Brisbane?” I asked with a glance at the bellpull.
“No, thank you. But a whiskey would not go amiss.”
I poured one from the table by the door and took one myself. He drank half of it off quickly, then sat back, his head resting on the back of the chair.
“I am glad to see that your indisposition was short-lived.”
His lips twisted into what might have passed for a smile on someone else. “It was not. I daresay I am keeping it at bay—but not for long, I fear. In fact, I may not be available to you for some days’ time.”
“Indeed?” I took a sip of my whiskey ignoring the little thorn of annoyance that I felt. I had thought we were compatriots in this together. I had not expected he would leave me to get on with it myself.
A spasm of pain seemed to shake him then. He closed his eyes, his breath coming rather quickly.
After a minute, it slowed and the spasm passed. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the low light of the room. “I have contacted my friend, the surgeon. He is very busy at present, but he should be able to meet with us in Chapel Street in a few days,” he said.
That hardly seemed likely, given Brisbane’s obvious ill health. I felt ashamed of my annoyance. He gave every indication of a man who was truly suffering, and I had pushed myself and my investigation upon him with no regard for his own trials.
“Mr. Brisbane, your indisposition—”
He waved a hand. “Nothing for you to be concerned with. It is an old adversary. As I said, I will be unavailable to you for a few days. I will not write, but I shall send word through Monk when I am ready to resume the investigation. In the meanwhile, I must caution you not to play the sleuth hound. It could well be dangerous.”
I sipped at my drink, annoyed once more. Brisbane could not help being unwell, but that was no reason for me to sit on my hands.
And why the air of mystery about his illness? On the whole he seemed perfectly healthy, and yet apparently he suffered from some malady that laid him so low he would not even be able to manage a pen. Of course, he was absolutely correct, it was no concern of mine. So naturally I thought about it—excessively.
He drank off the last of his whiskey and rose, pausing a moment to gather his strength and his walking stick. I saw now that its silver knob was fashioned into a horse’s head, with ebony eyes and a deeply chased halter. The neck was strongly muscled, as if modeled when the horse was in full gallop. It was an impressive, heavy piece, unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I wondered where he had purchased it. I walked with him as far as the door. He turned to me then, his eyes blazing black behind the smoked lenses of his spectacles.
“I meant what I said, my lady. You must not endanger yourself. I cannot protect you if you do not follow my instructions.”
I nodded, although inwardly I was seething with impatience. Now that we had begun this investigation I wanted nothing more than to finish it.
But I gave him my word and bade him a demure good-night. He looked at me closely, as if he suspected my rebelliousness. I dropped my eyes and offered him my hand. He took it, clasping it hard in his. It was the first time I had felt the skin of his bare hand against mine, and I was surprised at how warm it was. Overly warm—he was starting a fever. Whatever illness he suffered from, it was real, at least.
“You have given me your word, Lady Julia. Do not disappoint me.”
My head went up sharply. He had never used my Christian name. I opened my mouth to remonstrate with him against this familiarity, but I did not. He was obviously in great pain, and yet he had roused himself to come to me and warn me that I would be unprotected until he had recovered. Surely that earned him the right to a little impertinence? And even if it did not, what was the purpose in maintaining pointless formalities? We were partners in this investigation, however junior he might see my role. He treated me like an elder brother might treat a younger sister, with indulgence sometimes, with breathtaking rudeness at others. It was a fraternal sort of relationship, I argued with myself, and entitled to a certain informality.
Brisbane was watching me with interest, no doubt waiting to see if I would protest at this presumption. He was still holding my hand, so I shook his, gravely.
“I will remember. Take quite good care of yourself,” I told him.
Just then the door from belowstairs opened and Magda, the laundress, appeared. I was surprised to see her; I had thought her long since abed. I moved to speak to her, but she was not looking at me. Her eyes were fixed upon Brisbane. She came toward us, her bright shawl wrapped tightly about her shoulders.
“Magda? What is it?” She ignored me, coming to stand quite close to Brisbane, peering up through his shadowy lenses. He recoiled from her and I could not blame him. I had warned her about putting on the Gypsy in front of visitors.
“Who is this posh rat?” she asked. There was humour in her eyes and a bright, snapping malice as well.
