“So all of her deterioration could be those pills?” Part of me was appalled but another part held a sudden hope that Julia’s tumor was not actually worse at all.

“I cannot say with any certainty, but at the very least, I would say they are not helping her condition.” He leaned across and touched my arm, a gentle reassurance. “You cannot change what has gone before, but you can stop any more harm. And I think perhaps you will not wish to leave her.”

I stared at him, the same realization lodging in my chest like a howl. “I cannot leave. At least, not for the time being.”

“I know.”

I could not think upon that heartbreak hurtling toward me. Not yet. It was too much.

“Let us pick up our pace,” I said, and urged my horse into a trot. The sooner we got to Blackburn, the sooner I could return and destroy every blue mass pill in my sister’s possession.

30

We rode into Blackburn, over the river Darwen. I had thought we would see the new canal that had recently opened, part of the progressive Liverpool-Leeds canal network, but we had come into the town a good mile or so from it. Or so the new signs told me as we passed. Instead, we made our way past a solid brick house of corrections. A rather grim welcome to the town.

“What is Dr. Lawrence’s address?” I asked.

“McLeod told me it was Market Street Lane,” Evan said. “That was all the information he could obtain.”

I looked around for a likely candidate for directions and found a neatly dressed young woman, basket laden with cloth, idling outside a storefront window full of haberdashery. I suspected the attractive display of bonnets held her attention. I drew my horse up nearby.

“Good day,” I called.

The girl jumped at my greeting, then turned, her bright brown eyes wide with startled guilt. Clearly caught in the act of loitering rather than working. She managed to bob into a curtsy.

“Can you tell me the way to Market Street Lane? We are seeking Dr. Lawrence.”

She gave a nod and took a breath, clearly trying to retrieve some self-possession. “It ain’t far, milady. A bit farther along and turn left opposite the church. Ye’ll find the doctor’s cottage at the end, near the lane.”

“Thank you.” I eyed the window display. “The pink-trimmed straw would suit you very well.”

She blinked, then grinned, bobbing into another curtsy.

I turned back to Evan and pointed along the street with my crop. “This way.”

We followed the directions, passing the Church of St. Marie, then turning into Market Street Lane. The doctor’s cottage stood near the corner of the appropriately named Back Lane.