“But . . .”
“Have you two decided to abandon your chores and have a nice leisurely talk instead?”
Turning on the bench, Eunice found Nurse Grady standing before her, a scowl on her face as she looked at Mrs. Mills before switching her attention to Eunice, her eyes narrowing to almost slits as she looked Eunice up and down. “Why are you still wearing those ridiculous widow’s weeds?”
Eunice lifted her chin. “You didn’t provide me with a change of clothing yesterday, and the nurse who let me out of my prison cell today couldn’t be bothered.”
“The nurse I had this morning wouldn’t help me with my hair,” Mrs. Mills said, giving her hair a pat. “She then called me ‘Her Highness’ and—”
“Shut. Up,” Nurse Grady snapped before she followed her words with a resounding slap across Mrs. Mills’s face.
The unwarranted attack on a defenseless woman left Eunice seeing red, any thought of remaining inconspicuous disappearing in a flash as she rose from the bench. “That’s quite enough, Nurse Grady.”
“What did you say to me?”
“I said, enough.”
A second later, Nurse Grady lunged for her. It was only due to the reflexes she’d honed from her time spent boxing with Ivan that she was able to avoid the fist swinging her way.
Darting away from the bench, Eunice arched a brow. “You don’twant to hit me. Unlike the other women incarcerated here, I assure you I’ll hit back and it’ll hurt.”
Nurse Grady’s face began to mottle. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner.” She snapped her fingers and a group of nurses began to advance Eunice’s way. “You’ve just earned yourself a place at the Lodge.”
Eunice pushed up her sleeves. “I don’t believe I’d care to visit the Lodge. In fact, I’ve had enough of this place. I’ve found what I came to find, and if I have to use force to get you to step aside, so be it.”
It came as little surprise when Nurse Grady didn’t bother to address a single thing she’d said and instead, snapped her fingers again, which had the rest of the nurses heading her way.
As the first nurse reached her and grabbed hold of Eunice’s hair, instinct kicked in, as did every lesson Ivan had shared about how to handle oneself while in the midst of a brawl. It took a mere ten seconds to see the nurse flat on her back. Eunice’s lips began curving into a less-than-amused smile when another nurse immediately stepped forward, that nurse’s eyes flashing with temper as she brandished a fist that was already clenched.
CHAPTER
Thirteen
“Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Mr. Livingston,” a gentleman wearing a dark suit said, stepping into the room where Arthur, Lloyd, and Chase had been escorted after telling a nurse they were at Blackwell’s Island Insane Asylum to pay a visit to their dear friend Eunice Holbrooke. “The new patients I was examining were difficult cases. It took me longer than expected to assess their degrees of insanity. I’m Dr. Franklin.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Franklin,” Arthur said, rising to his feet to shake the doctor’s hand. “We won’t keep you long. We’re merely here to visit Eunice Holbrooke.”
Dr. Franklin moved behind a cluttered desk and took a seat as Arthur sat down as well. “I don’t recall admitting a Eunice Holbrooke, but I see a great number of new patients on a daily basis. However, before I question you further about your friend, I find myself curious about your name. You wouldn’t happen to be a member oftheLivingston family, would you? The ones who own a good portion of New York City—along with the Astors, of course?”
Even though Arthur had striven hard to make a name for himself, avoiding the association with his illustrious family whenever possible so as not to receive preferential treatment because of theirhigh standing in society, given the gleam residing in Dr. Franklin’s eyes and given that he needed the doctor to cooperate with him, Arthur didn’t hesitate to nod. “Collin Livingston is my father.” He glanced to Lloyd. “This is my maternal grandfather, Mr. Lloyd Brevoorts, along with my younger brother, Chase Livingston.”
Dr. Franklin’s gaze sharpened on Lloyd. “Brevoorts, as in the railroad Brevoorts?”
“Guilty as charged, although my eldest son took over the running of our company years ago.”
Dr. Franklin returned his attention to Arthur. “I must say that I’m tickled to have all of you in my office. It’s not every day we see members of the New York Four Hundred—or ever, in fact. I’ve been hoping that would eventually change because we’re sadly lacking in funds, and yet the need for our asylum as a place to house the poor has been growing at an alarming rate.”
“I’d be happy to have a conversation with you at a later date pertaining to philanthropic endeavors,” Arthur said. “However, that discussion will need to wait until after we speak with Eunice Holbrooke.”
“I’m sure a visit with your friend can be easily arranged,” Dr. Franklin said. “But as I mentioned, I’m unfamiliar with that name. Would you happen to know when she was admitted?”
Lloyd cleared his throat. “There’s a possibility Eunice may be using a different name, but she would have been admitted within the last”—he glanced at Arthur—“two days?”
“I would say that’s likely.”
“Why would she be using a different name?” Dr. Franklin asked.
“Because she’s suffering some manner of mental incapacity” was all Arthur could come up with to respond, breathing a sigh of relief when Dr. Franklin didn’t argue the point but nodded instead.
