“On that, we can agree.” Amelia leaned toward the window to watch as the sanatorium disappeared from view. How she hoped Louisa would emerge from her stay unscathed.
She looked forward to telling Henry of the visit, even though it meant facing his displeasure. She only wished she’d learned something more helpful from her efforts.
Sixteen
Henry’spleasureatAmelia’sarrival was short-lived thanks to hearing the events of that afternoon. “Amelia...”
He hardly knew what to say: his thoughts, already slow because of his aching head, ground to a halt at the idea of her in danger.Again.
They sat in the two chairs before the fire in his bedchamber, and she reached for his hand to hold it. Her touch pleased him but didn’t ease his concern.
“I considered the risks before going,” she insisted quietly.
“Did you?” He turned his hand to better clasp hers, at a loss as to how to discourage her from doing such things. After all, he had never succeeded before.
“I did. Truly. As I told my aunt, the worst they could do was ask us to leave. You know, they never did send me the informational brochure they promised to post. A closer look around was definitely in order.”
Henry tried to calm his frantically beating heart. He’d been attempting to regain his strength by walking up and down the hall earlier, though he still wore his dressing gown—while it was small progress to be out of bed, he’d taken heart in it—butthis news shook him. He detested the idea of Amelia in possible danger, especially while he was doing nothing.
“Which they did,” he guessed.
“Well, yes.” She sighed, suggesting the outing hadn’t been easy. “I do believe the visit took a toll on Aunt Margaret’s nerves, but she served as an excellent assistant.”
“Let’s agree you won’t ask her to accompany you again,” he said in a dry tone.
Amelia’s courage and ingenuity were two of the many qualities he admired about her, but venturing to the sanatorium without him felt like a step too far.
“It’s not as though our lives were in danger,” she continued, squeezing his fingers as she straightened her shoulders. “Granted, they’re not likely to permit me entrance again, but I want to do what I can to help while you are...currently indisposed.”
Indisposed. “I intend to return to the Yard tomorrow, so you needn’t attempt anything else in my stead.”
“Tomorrow?” Amelia frowned as she studied him, making him wonder what she saw.
Could she tell his head still ached? That his ribs hurt with every breath and exhaustion pulled at his every nerve? Surely by morning, his condition would have improved a little more.
“Each day I’m better.” He spoke as much to reassure himself as her.
“Yes, you are, but these things take time.”
Henry shifted his shoulders, frustrated by that truth. He detested feeling helpless, unable to pursue those who set the bomb or to work his other cases. This vulnerability was bothunfamiliar and unwelcome and he hoped it would soon pass, along with his aches and pains.
“I’ve given it enough time and am ready to return. Improvement will happen whether I’m here or there.”
A Mr. Edward Tuttle from the Special Irish Branch had called earlier just after luncheon and asked Henry a few questions, but hadn’t been willing to tell him what they knew thus far. The brief meeting had left him unimpressed, and made him consider doing some investigating of his own.
Yet another reason to get back to work.
Amelia’s disapproving scowl made her opinion clear. “I hope Director Reynolds has the good sense to send you home if you arrive as pale as you look now.”
Obviously he hadn’t fooled her with his effort to act as if recovery was within reach. “At any rate, how did you find Dr. Thorne?”
“Unlikable.”
“How so?”
Amelia’s instincts for people had proved quite accurate in the past, and her opinion mattered. “It was as if she had already decided Aunt Margaret was not worthy of being a patient. Perhaps strangely, that irritated both of us.”
That, at least, forced a smile. “Well, to be fair, your aunt appears to be in good health.”
