“For which I am grateful.”
“I’m just not sure if charity events and donations will be enough in the long run.” It was a thought she’d been toying with for the past couple of days. “Ensuring a steady income would probably be better.”
“You’re right.” He met her gaze. “Any ideas on how to accomplish that without charging the patients?”
She shook her head. “Not yet, but I will think on it.”
Silence settled between them, and then with deep contemplation, he said, “Saving lives is a never-ending struggle against the evils of the world. The things I have seen have changed me in ways I am not always fond of. When I began my apprenticeship, I was sixteen years old and used to a life of leisure and luxury. Seeing a boy my own age lose a limb that first day was shocking. I confess I fled the operating room to cast up my accounts.”
“And the boy?”
“He died three days later from infection.” Florian’s voice was strained with emotion. “I made it my purpose then and there to discover the best methods of medical treatment and surgery. Forced to complete my apprenticeship in order to be admitted into Oxford, I dedicated my free time to reading medical texts and interviewing not only other physicians, but anyone I could find who had traveled abroad and born witness to successful surgeries.”
“I cannot be anything but impressed by your determination at such a young age.”
He shifted, causing his arm to brush against hers. Skin pricking with awareness, Juliette fought the urge to move closer—the urge to experience his touch once again. “It was not unlike your own. This compulsion you have to do good is very similar to mine. I understand it completely.”
She struggled against the flutter of nerves the intimacy of his voice provoked. “Would you be willing to teach me what you have learned?”
He held her gaze, and although he failed to smile, his expression was warm and inviting. It animated his eyes and did curious things to Juliette’s body. Her knees grew weak while sizzling embers crept over her skin. “Will you allow me to think on it for a while before I make a commitment?” he asked.
“Of course.”
The parlor door opened and Florian’s servant entered. Without breaking his stride he crossed the floor and addressed his master in a murmur so muted it was impossible for Juliette to hear what he was saying despite her proximity. Whatever it was, however, caused Florian’s features to set in rigid planes of severity. He thanked the man, exchanged a brief glance with Juliette, and turned to address the room as a whole.
“I have just been informed that necessary measures were taken by the military earlier today when three individuals attempted to flee St. Giles. A man and a woman were both fatally wounded.”
Covering her mouth with her hands, Juliette tried to stifle her gasp. This was exactly what she’d been hoping to avoid. No matter how many times she told herself it was a necessary action taken for the greater good, she doubted she’d ever fully convince herself it was right. Because it wasn’t. “They deliberately killed them when they could have chosen to injure them instead.”
“Yes,” Florian agreed. He showed no outward sign of remorse over what had happened, but when he spoke again his voice was troubled. “Unfortunately the third individual, described as a boy roughly six years of age, escaped. He could be anywhere.”
And just like that it felt as though the ceiling was falling down over her head. This was what Florian feared more than having to kill two people—the risk one child now posed to London’s population at large.
“Oh God.” Lady Warwick’s stricken expression conveyed what everyone else in the room was probably thinking, namely that the typhus threat was no longer contained and that death was about to descend on the city with a vengeance.
“I have to go,” Florian said. He was already striding toward the door while Juliette struggled to come to terms with the change of events. “Duchess,” he said, addressing Viola, “I need you to come with me. Everyone else, please stay as long as you wish and let yourselves out. We will reconvene here in two days for an update.”
He was gone the next second with Viola hastening after, the sound of the front door opening and shutting an acknowledgment of their departure. Juliette stared off into the space now stretching before her. The abandonment she felt was irrational and persistent. She could not seem to shake it or the unpleasant envy welling inside her. The moment trouble had come to call, Florian had turned to Viola for help, and the lady had come to his aid with remarkable swiftness. Rational thought reminded Juliette that the two were business partners of sorts, but she still couldn’t stop from wondering about the degree of their involvement.
Especially when she had recently come to the realization that she wanted Florian for herself.
Chapter 15
Juliette climbed the steps of St. Agatha’s hospital with the same degree of determination that had brought her to Florian’s office for the first time three weeks earlier.
“I wish to see Florian,” she proclaimed to the plump middle-aged woman who occupied the front desk.
“You have an appointment with him?”
“I am his patient.”
And a concerned friend.
Three days had passed since Florian had stormed out of his home to collect the bodies of the shooting victims so they could be examined. The meeting he’d asked everyone to attend two days later had since been canceled by letter.
“That hardly answers my question.” The woman gave Juliette a resolute frown.
“Perhaps not, but if he were not here you probably would have told me as much.” Without further warning, Juliette marched past the gatekeeper with her maid on her heels and headed straight for Florian’s office.
