Palmer checked the position of the lantern once more, confirming to himself that it was, indeed, not in such a place as to be the source of the lights which continued to appear on Miss Lavinia’s face. For an hour, the phenomenon continued before disappearing as suddenly as it had begun.

He stayed at Miss Lavinia Abbott’s side for the remaining days of her life. The lights returned twice more, though he could determine neither cause nor source nor pattern for their rising and extinguishing. The evening before her passing, the lights returned for a final time, fainter than on the previous occasions and lasting a shorter interval.

Palmer had theorized the lights he’d seen on the bog were the result of the freezing and thawing of organic material. As Miss Lavinia lived out her remaining days, her condition deteriorated. Perhaps it was her deterioration that had caused the mysterious light to appear. Perhaps it was deterioration in the bogs that had done the same.

He would have answers. He vowed that he would. For, as much as the bog lights had sat upon his mind, this experience added weight tenfold.

People could glow. And he would not rest until he knew why.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Mrs. Simms had left for the day by the time Barnabus reached his home. For three years, that would have meant returning to an empty, echoing house, but instead, he opened the door to the sound of Gemma happily singing “Fairlop Fair.” Though his mind remained heavy with thoughts of fires and of resurrection men and of women trapped in horrible situations, her voice lightened his heart and eased some of that burden.

He hung up his hat and coat, leaned his cane against the wall, then crossed into the sitting room to put away his medical bag. Mrs. Simms had left the examination area pristine, as always. Until recently, he’d had two nurses working for him, alternating which days they were present. He was so stretched for time now, though, that he didn’t see as many patients as before, and he couldn’t justify a second nurse.

He hoped his most recent penny dreadful proved a success. He needed to increase his income somehow if he had any hope of keeping his safe houses operating.

“Baz, you’re home!”

He turned toward the sound of Gemma’s voice. She looked delighted to see him. He’d forgotten how nice that was to come home to. He’d not had it in years.

“You’ll never twig what happened to me today.” She bounced across the room to him. How could anyone not be buoyed by her joyfulness? “Móirín found me a job. It ain’t terrible far from here, and it pays a nice lump of coin. And it ain’t dangerous.”

“That is good news.” He held out his hand, and she took it without hesitation. “Where and what will you be doing?”