She rushed up the steps and rang the bell violently, then again and then a third time. She heard it jingling in the hall.

A footman came to the door, his expression fixed in furious disapproval.

When he saw a white-faced, bedraggled young woman with wild eyes and no hat, his offense knew no bounds. He was a good six feet tall, as a footman should be, and with excellent legs and a suitably supercilious mouth.

“Lady Ravensbrook is extremely ill in that hansom!” Hester said curtly.

“Will you please assist me to carry her inside, and then send for her maid and anyone else necessary to make her comfortable.”

“And who are you, may I ask?” He was shaken, but not to be stampeded by anyone.

“Hester Latterly,” she snapped back. “I am a nurse. Lady Ravensbrook is very ill. Will you please hurry, instead of standing there like a doorpost!”

He knew where she had been, and why. He wavered on the edge of argument.

“Are you hard of hearing?” she demanded more loudly. “Go and fetch your mistress before she falls insensible faint and may injure herself.” “Yes, ma'am.” He galvanized into action, striding past her down the steps and across the pavement gleaming wet in the lamplight to the hansom where the cabby was fingering the reins nervously, staring down at the doorway as if it were an open grave.

The footman flung the door open and with the expression of a man about to spur his horse into battle, poked his head and shoulders inside to lift Enid, who was now fallen sideways and almost unconscious. As soon as he had grasped her, which even for a man of his strength was not easy, he pulled her out and straightened up, bearing her in his arms back across the footpath towards the door.

Hester took a step down, fishing in her reticule for money to pay the cabby, but he stood up in his urgency to get his horse going, flicking the long whip over its ears, and was already away from the curb and increasing pace before she could go any farther.

She was surprised only for a moment. He knew where he had picked up his fare, and seeing the address to which he brought her, and the liveried footman, he had guessed the truth. He did not want her close enough to touch, or to take anything, even money, from her hand.

Hester sighed and followed the footman, closing the door behind her. He was standing in the center of the hall helplessly, Enid in his arms as lifeless as a rag doll.

Hester looked for a bell rope to pull.

“Bell?” she asked sharply.

He indicated with his head to where the ornamental rope hung. No other staff had come because presumably they knew it was his duty to answer the door. She strode over and yanked the rope more roughly than she had intended.