“You would like it,” he said. “After all, you were the one who told me I ought to write about true medical marvels.”

“You remember me saying that, do you?”

He nodded. “I’ve thought on it often these past years.”

“Been thinking on anything else?” she asked, watching him as if she doubted he pondered much.

Surely she remembered that his thoughts were always full and heavy. “Plenty of things. My patients. My mother and what she’d think of me if she were still living. The poor people of London and what they need. Whether you were happy and safe.”

“Because I’m one of the poor people of London?”

He couldn’t tell if she was jesting. She was one of the unfortunates this city claimed in abundance. But she was also significant to him in a personal way. Theirs wasn’t an ordinary marriage, but he did care what happened to her. He always had. He knew she’d doubted that in the days and weeks before she’d left three years ago. The reassurances he’d offered then hadn’t been enough. He had his doubts they would be now. He didn’t want to spend what little time they had together now arguing.

“Because I want you to be happy and safe,” he answered, hoping she hadn’t noticed his pause.

She seemed satisfied. “What’s this latest tale about, then?”

“A fictional tale of a doctor searching out a mystery that’s based on things that have, in actually, been documented and researched and wondered about.”

Her eyes pulled wide as she listened to him, her interest never flagging. “I see it being read absolutely everywhere, but not a soul’s been kind enough to drop their copy when racing after a train or leave it behind after having their shoes shined. Mark me, sometime someone’ll be terrible careless, and I’ll snatch m’self a copy.”

Snatch one? “Do you not have any spare pennies, Gemma?” It would explain her current state, but not in a way that set his mind at ease.

“What is your charitable authors’ group going to be doing today?” She made no effort at finesse when changing the subject, a sure sign she was uncomfortable with his question.

That told its own story, one that worried him. But he suspected questioning her directly would not get him the answers he needed. She did not confide in people easily. It was a trait they shared.

“We are bringing food and supplies to a corner of the city that recently had a fire.”

“The same fire you was asking me about yesterday?”

He nodded. “That’s how I happened to hear about the victims’ graves being robbed.”

“Ah.”

The Dread Master had been right to direct the DPS to create this sister organization. It gave him a ready reason for knowing about things the DPS had discovered without having to outright lie to Gemma.