In the opposite corner, a cot was piled high with a jumble of blankets, and—

A hand, trailing off the side.

I closed my eyes.

I counted ten steady breaths as I removed my gloves and tucked them into my purse. And then I walked across the floor, knelt by the bed, and took the wrist between my fingers.

“Thank you,” I whispered fervently. I had been wrong: I did have it in me to pray after all. The wrist was warm—burning, in fact. I pulled back the mess of quilts to reveal Victor sprawled on his stomach, his dark curls wild, his forehead hot and dry. He was probably dehydrated. I had no way of knowing how long he had been in this fevered state. At his worst, one of his fevers had lasted more than a fortnight. And with no one here to care for him!

I cursed Henry with more fervor than I had prayed with. He had abandoned both of us—me to long-term peril, and Victor to immediate risk. He knew how Victor was! He knew that Victor was not to be left alone. How selfish of him to leave because his feelings were hurt. How privileged of him to be able to value his own feelings over the safety of others because he himself had never known what it was to be afraid.

“Victor,” I said, but he did not even stir. I stroked his cheek. And then I pinched his arm. Hard. Harder.

No response.

Satisfied that Mary and Justine would find nothing too alarming, I ran back to the door and unlocked it. Justine was crying, and Mary was livid.

“What do you mean, locking us out?” she demanded.

I inclined my head meaningfully toward Justine. “I could not bear to expose you two to anything horrific. Neither of you has the responsibility to Victor that I do.”

Justine looked up at me, her face as pale as death. “Is he—”

“He is dangerously sick with a fever. We will need a doctor. And we should move him to a more healthful location. I am certain this building contributed to his state.”

“I can go and fetch a doctor. I know one.” Mary regarded me with no small amount of distrust. “Should I take Justine with me?”

“She can stay and help if she wants.”

Justine’s eyes widened as she looked in at the dark hallway leading to the darker room.

Mary and I traded a look of understanding, and I spoke again. “Actually, yes. I think it would be best if Justine went with you. She can inform the doctor of Victor’s history of fevers.”

Justine nodded, the relief washing across her face. “Yes. Yes, I will do that. And I can hire a carriage, too. We cannot ask Mary to pay for anything.”