“Perhaps, Palmer, you should take a bit of time away,” Dr. Sherman said. “Find a quiet corner of the country and rest your mind.”

“I have not gone mad. And, somehow, I will prove it.”

With that proclamation, he stormed out. He knew now that bodies could glow after death, and he knew of one other means of observing the recently deceased.

He needed to find a Resurrection Man.

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

By the time Móirín returned from the CALL effort, Licorice was asleep, with Vera and Mr. Sorokin keeping watch in her room. Brogan was sitting with Olly, reading the boy one of Fletcher’s penny dreadfuls. Móirín didn’t linger but made her way to her own room. The house was calm and peaceful, and Barnabus had done all the things that he alone could do. He stood in the entryway, packing his doctoring bag once more, recounting in his mind any additional instructions he might want to give the Donnellys and Mr. Sorokin.

“Baz?”

He looked up. Gemma stood beside him, watching him uncertainly.

“Could I beg a favor?” she asked.

“No need to beg. You need only ask.”

A quick smile flitted over her tired face. “Licorice is comfortably settled and resting. I’d not want to see her tossed off. And the Donnellys have three more houseguests now than they did this morning. The house’ll be crowded, and the larder stretched thin.”

Barnabus took slow breaths, waiting and hoping she was about to “beg the favor” he hoped for but not wanting to push her toward it.

“Furthermore, my family’s searching for me, and the man they work for is searching for Mr. Sorokin and the children. All of us bein’ here is a risk.” She took a quick breath. “Does your offer still stand for me to return to Finsbury?”

His heart flipped over in his chest, and he didn’t bother holding back his smile. “Always, Gemma. Not a moment goes by when I don’t wish you were there.”

“Truly?”

He’d told her before he wanted her at home and longed for her company. Clearly he needed to do a better job of showing her that. “I like the way your voice fills the house when you sing. I like having supper with you at night, talking about our days. I like that you make me laugh every day. The house is different with you there, in the best way.”

Her eyes dropped. “Having me there’d be dangerous.”

Barnabus cupped her cheek with his hand, bringing her eyes back up to his. “What will it take, Gemma, to convince you that no amount of danger will ever be enough for me to not want you with me?”

“If anything happened to you, Baz, I’d never forgive myself,” she whispered.

“And if I didn’t do all I could to convince you to stay, I would never forgive myself.”