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Gemma closed and locked the door. She took a deep breath to settle her pulse. Worrying that a Kincaid had found her hadratcheted up her anxiety. She needed a moment to regain her calm.

By the time she stepped into the sitting room, the girl had been situated on the sofa, and Vera sat in a chair next to her, tending to the patient.

Mr. Sorokin crossed to Gemma. “Did Olly go after the doctor?”

“Oi. Wouldn’t hear a word against it.”

“He’ll be safe,” Mr. Sorokin said. “He moves about as unseen and unheard as a mouse.”

“And Dr. Milligan will come as soon as he hears he’s needed,” Gemma said. “He is as reliable as a lighthouse.”

“Does he know yet that he is about to find himself a widower?”

Gemma nodded. “I got the papers from Peter. I explained it all to Baz. A couple of days before I’m meant to have died, I’ll pike out of London, make a life for Kate Mitchell.”

“And what does the good doctor think of the plan?”

What did he think? He hadn’t objected, but he’d also not declared the idea a rare bit of genius or an excellent escape.

The girl on the sofa moaned, which pulled Mr. Sorokin’s attention back to her. “I wish I knew what to do for Licorice. She’s been miserable.”

“Bringing her here was the right first step,” Gemma said. “The Donnellys’ll keep her safe as an inside pocket. And Baz is here most every day. A person couldn’t do better than to be here with them.”

“Then why is it you’re so set on leaving?” He gave her a pointed look.

Why? She knew why.

Her friends might’ve been able to keep her somewhat safe, but so long as she was in London and the Kincaids were determined to find her, Gemma couldn’t keep the Donnellys or Baz safe.

She couldn’t live with that.

Several months earlier, the Dread Penny Society had facilitated the escape of a particularly mischievous young orphan named Very Merry, who’d been forced by the Mastiff to undertake increasingly dangerous acts of thievery. She now made her home with Hollis and Ana Darby, safe from her one-time thief master but every bit as much of a troublemaker as she’d ever been.

She was well-known to all the Dreadfuls, yet all of them looked as shocked as Barnabus felt seeing her rushing toward their CALL effort.

Ana intercepted her. “Is something the matter?”

“Bob’s Your Knuckle climbed in the window at the house sayin’ Olly sent him to say Miss Vera needs to see Doc at her place.”

“Did Bob’s Your Knuckle say if Olly said the need was an urgent one?” Barnabus asked.

Very Merry nodded. “Seemed to think you oughta skip over straight off.”

“Is someone ill or injured?”

“I ain’t a newspaper, Doc. I ain’t got all the gossip.”

Ana didn’t quite manage to hold back her amusement. “You had best make your way to Piccadilly, Barnabus. Vera wouldn’t disrupt your efforts here if you weren’t truly needed.”

He couldn’t argue with her on that. And knowing Gemma was at the flat, too, added a degree of concern. Was Gemma ill? Was Vera’s back causing her more misery than usual? Had the Kincaids found them?

Barnabus pulled Brogan away from the cart where he and Fletcher were distributing vegetables. “I just got word that we need to go back to your flat.”

Brogan paled. “Is something the matter with Vera?”

“I don’t know.”

Fletcher motioned for them both to go. “We’ve hands enough.”


Tags: Sarah M. Eden Historical