by L Rollins
“I am quite capable of taking Edgerton to Crow’s Hall,” Martha snapped.
Leila backed away. “Sorry, ma’am. And thank you for coming to help.”
Edgerton sagged, though he didn’t completely collapse. Nearly all his weight must have been pressing against Martha, yet she didn’t sink under the pressure.
“There is no room in this castle for the weak, Leila.” Martha supported Edgerton, who began muttering incoherently. “Now get back to work. You have more patients to tend to.”
Edgerton was able to walk somewhat, and with Martha leading him, they made it through the door without incident. Leila had never seen herself as weak, but compared to Martha she most decidedly felt it.
She glanced over the room—nearly ever face was on her. They looked at her, some with concern and others with judgment.
Leila squared her shoulders. Martha was right—she had more patients to tend to.
More patients than ever before.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LEILA PUSHED HER hanging dresses, breeches, and shirtsleeves to either side of the armoire she shared with Natalie. Where was her blue coat? She shoved several items of clothing from left to right. She’d hung it up right there the last time she’d worn it. She knew she had.
But it wasn’t there. Leila glanced over her shoulder, scowling at Natalie’s empty bed. She had a pretty good guess who’d taken it, too.
She blew out a tired sigh. It didn’t matter. At least Natalie would be warm tonight—which was more than Leila could say for herself. Claude was going to do a bit more research into mercury this evening, Inez was following a lead Victor had hinted at, though she didn’t tell anyone what it was, which left Samuel and Leila to go back to the factory.
If Monsieur Jus was behind the mercury poisoning then he was likely keeping any extra mercury, or any other proof, somewhere in the large building. Now that it was empty of all employees, it was an even better hiding place.
Leila moved over to Natalie’s trunk and pulled out her well-worn brown coat. It was better than nothing. She slipped it on. The coat was a bit big in the chest, but other than that, it fit her surprisingly well.
She hurried out to meet Samuel at their designated spot, behind one of the largest trees Leila had ever seen. She eyed the large castle as she waited in the shadows. It loomed up in the darkness. Ancient, foreboding. She placed a hand against the tree’s trunk.
It had probably been here as long as the castle. No stone nor tree could save the people who were dying, though. That was up to her.
Samuel ran up beside her. “You ready?”
She nodded, the thoughts of that morning and Edgerton’s sudden plummet into madness heavy on her heart.
“Where’s your normal coat?”
“Natalie, one of the other nurses, is using it tonight.”
“Good.” He nodded his approval. “This is much less noticeable in the dark.”
That was true. But she still planned to give Natalie a talking to the next morning. If she had asked Leila, she would have said yes. But just taking her coat? That was not all right.
They slipped down silent roads and through the empty town.
“Thank you for being willing to help us,” Leila said. “I know it was quite the unexpected twist I dropped on you a few days ago.”
Samuel shrugged. It was such a normal, natural thing for him to do. She must have seen him shrug like that dozens of times. But this time it was different. There was a stiffness to the movement. And his eyes didn’t sparkle like usual.
Then again, it could all be in her head. Neither of them spoke much as they neared the factory. Was he upset with her for being a spy? He didn’t seem perturbed by the idea—only very standoffish.
Samuel slowed as the factory doors drew near. “I care about you, Leila,” he said in a soft, almost painful voice.
It sounded as though there was a ‘but’ hidden in his sentence. She stopped and turned fully to him. “I care, too.”
He shook his head and a small bit of his usual excitement for life sparked in his eyes for a moment. “I don’t mean like that. I mean I deeply care.”
Oh. Leila dropped her gaze. It’s not as though his feelings were a surprise. That night when she’d escaped to his home had given her a pretty good idea of how he felt. How would he react if he knew she felt the same way? It had come on slowly. Leila wasn’t even sure exactly when her interest had morphed into love. But she was quite confident that’s where she was now. The only problem was . . .
“I know,” Samuel said. “I know about you someday being betrothed. Madame Winstone told me.”
Inez? What had she been doing speaking to Samuel of her and her future husband? Humiliation pricked against her cheeks. That wasn’t fair. She wasn’t a baby needing to be coddled.
Turning toward the factory, Leila clenched her fists tight and stomped up the hill. At least she’d had time to change into her breeches so she wasn’t encumbered by a stupid nursing uniform. After an announcement like that, she just might need to kick something.
Samuel hurried up and walked beside her. “Please don’t be mad—at Madame Winstone or myself.”
She slowed slightly, but didn’t ease her fists. Oh, she was most certainly mad at Inez. She had two friends, it seemed, who needed to hear a piece of her mind.
But she wasn’t mad at Samuel. Embarrassed at little, but not mad. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I wanted to.”
A new type of heat flooded her cheeks. This one warmed her from heart to hands and chased away any trace of the cold night air.
“I just want you to know,” Samuel continued. “Even though I’ll probably never see you again after you leave Conques, until then, you can trust me. Both to help with saving the people and to be a gentleman.”
Blast, but he was just too sweet. She looped her arm through his arm. “You’ve always been a gentleman.”
“And you can count on me to continue as such,” he said, smiling down at her.
The factory doors were locked. No surprise there. But Inez had lent Leila a small case with lock picks and had given her a quick lesson that afternoon. Within a few minutes, the door was opened.
“You are a quick study,” Samuel said with admiration.
Leila tried to mimic one of his nonchalant shrugs. “Comes with the territory.”
He chuckled softly, then pointed down a dark hall. “There was a locked room that I noticed during the tour.” Samuel kept his voice low as they moved through the deserted factory. “Monsieur Jus seemed quite adamant that no one go in there.”
“Sounds like a good place to start,” Leila whispered back. Gads, but walking through the hollow place felt like walking through the skeletal remains of some ancient, colossal beast.
Samuel led her to a small door. Faint moonlight filtered through the large windows of the factory and into the hallway where they stood. Leila could hear Samuel breathing in the stillness.
Leila pulled out one of the picks and thrust it into the lock. It clicked softly as she twisted it back and forth. Samuel, standing close, kept turning his head every which way, on the lookout for anyone who might happen upon them. It occurred to her that Monsieur Jus might have hired someone to watch the factory at night. She willed her hands to work faster.
Finally, the lock let out a groan and a heavy thud and the door swung open slowly. They slipped inside the room and Samuel shut the door behind them.
“Light the lamp,” Leila said.
Samuel had brought a small gas lamp with him. They’d chosen not to use it on the way over here to avoid being seen. But this room held no windows, leaving them in complete darkness.
He moved away from her and the black space around her suddenly felt far too cold. There was a different kind of clicking, and then an orange light spread out to her left. Samuel kept the light low as they began looking over the space.
It was a small area. There was room only for a desk, which was covered in papers, a small shel
f, which was disorganized, and a chair with leather cushions.
Leila ran her hand over the back of the chair. It was only lightly used and felt quite expensive. “He may not have planned on coming in here often, but he clearly wanted to be comfortable when he did.”
Samuel pulled out one of the sheets of paper scattered across the desk and held the lamp over it. “Looks like designs for another factory.” He pointed to block letters across the top. “It says, ‘Comillas’. That’s in Spain, isn’t it?”
Leila nodded, reading the line scribbled below it. “’Hang the blasted French.’ Sounds like he isn’t too happy his factory was shut down here in Conques.”
“Good riddance.” Samuel placed the paper back and pulled on another one.
They read it silently, together. This one held instructions to his foreman to promise workers extra pay for pulling extra-long hours in the coming year. But then renege on that promise and site government interference as the cause. It was dated the day before the factory was ordered to shut down.
“If there was any doubt before that Monsieur Jus is a blackguard, we have proof now,” Samuel said.
Leila scanned several other documents, but they were only more of the same. Plans to pump additional labor out of the workers without resorting to paying them more. Plans to expand elsewhere. Plans on how to acquire the raw goods needed to make clothing at a cheaper price.
“Unfortunately, what we don’t have is proof he’s using or dumping mercury.”
Samuel stood up straight and looked over the small room. “Have you double checked that there’s no process, ever, that requires mercury in the making of petticoats?”
“Checked and double checked.” Blast. They were getting nowhere. It was like Samuel had said. They had proof he was a blackguard and reasonable cause to believe he was breaking a few laws. But nothing that related to mercury or poisoning Conques. Was it enough to assume he’d be willing to pay Fowler to torture Victor?
After another hour of searching, they still had nothing. A quick search of the rest of the huge building resulted in even less. With sunrise threatening to make its appearance in only a couple of hours, they decided to leave before anyone happened upon them.
The night air had dropped in temperature during their time in the factory, and Leila hugged the worn coat closer to her shoulders.
“That was a waste of time.” Samuel spoke low as they moved between trees back toward the castle, the lamp light off once more.
Leila couldn’t agree more. She was frustrated and tired of feeling like they were chasing their own tail. She pinched the bridge of her nose—she just needed to think this through. Put herself in Monsieur Jus’s shoes and see if she couldn’t get ahead of him that way.
“He could still be guilty, and just not keeping any records of mercury or the like in the factory.”
“Except there’s no logical reason he would be using mercury at all.” The exhaustion must be getting to Samuel. Even he, who was perpetually optimistic, spoke in a tone of exasperation.
“What I can’t figure out,” Leila thought aloud, “is why he would do it in the first place? A sick population only means fewer workers for his factory.” Several of the notes they’d looked at were comments to himself, brainstorming workarounds for the lack of laborers and the need to still produce.
Samuel nodded. “Unless he had an ulterior motive, a need for revenge. He certainly doesn’t stand to gain anything by making everyone sick.”
Leila’s lips twisted to the side. They truly were chasing their tail, around and around and getting nowhere fast.
Samuel took hold of her elbow and pulled her to a stop. “Leila,” he pointed toward a small clump of trees just to the side of the road. “Is that your blue coat?”
She stared into the darkness, but the brilliant blue wasn’t hard to pick out. “What in the . . .” Truly? Had Natalie just tossed the beautiful coat on the ground? Oh, there would be words for sure now.
Leila stomped over to where her blue coat was lying, tucked between tall blades of browning grass.
Only, it wasn’t only her coat lying there.
Leila slowed. Natalie lay, unmoving, among the bramble, her face halfway in shadow, her body in a twisted, unnatural position.
Not Natalie, too. Leila dropped to her feet. She hadn’t seen any waltzing flu signs in her friend—and all the nurses kept a close eye on each other. She hadn’t slurred her speech that day, nor had she stumbled or gotten a rash or seemed overly reserved. Had Leila noticed any of those symptoms, she would have notified Martha immediately.
Leila knelt down and wrapped an arm around Natalie’s shoulders. Gracious, she was so cold.
“Don’t worry, Natalie,” she spoke softly, but could hear her own voice tremble. “We’ll get you some place warm.”
Slowly, not wanting to jar her friend, Leila raised Natalie’s head off the hard ground. Natalie moaned. Twigs and pieces of grass stuck in her black hair. Samuel lit the lamp once more, bringing the light up behind Leila.
But the shadow across Natalie’s face didn’t scatter before the light. Instead it stayed plastered to her cheek. Leila ran her fingers over Natalie’s cheek. The blackness came off in brittle flakes.
“Blood.” She checked Natalie’s mouth and ears, but both were clean. Instead the trail of blood lead to her hairline.
Samuel pulled back a few strands of hair, revealing a massive gash along Natalie’s forehead.
Leila’s breath caught in her throat. “This isn’t the waltzing flu,” she said to Samuel.
He shook his head, dropping the strands of hair which covered the injury once more. “She was attacked.”
Natalie coughed and her brow creased.
“Natalie?” Leila looked back down at her friend. She could see many bruises now. Across her cheeks. Over her hands. If she removed the blue coat, she’d probably see them all over Natalie’s arms, too.
“He’s married,” Natalie muttered, her words barely discernible. “Did you know that?”
“Natalie,” Leila tried again. “What happened?”
She shook her head slightly, her forehead bumping gently against Leila’s arm. It looked like it should be incredibly painful, but Natalie didn’t wince. If she was past feeling the pain of her injuries, she was very badly off.
Leila turned to Samuel. “We have to get her up to the castle as soon as possible.”
He nodded, sat the lamp down, and scooped Natalie up in his arms. Leila picked up the light and they hurried down the road.
“Some women are so strong.” Natalie’s words came out even more slurred this time.
“Don’t speak,” Leila said, patting her friend’s hand as they hurried. “We’ll have you someplace more comfortable soon.”
Natalie didn’t stop. “She came out of nowhere. Jumped me. I couldn’t fight back.”
Samuel gave Leila a sideways glance. They both knew of one woman in particular who could beat a person with ease. But why go after Natalie?
Leila looked at the battered frame of her friend—her friend who was wearing her brilliant blue coat. Her stomach rolled.
Samuel let out a loud call for help as he burst through the castle doors. Nurses from all corners rushed toward them, directing him where to place Natalie.
Leila moved back, toward an outer wall. Wishing for the first time since coming to Conques that she actually was a well-trained nurse.
Samuel moved over and stood beside her. Slowly he rubbed her back. “She’s in good hands.”
Leila shook her head. “She was wearing my coat.” The words stuck in her mouth as though made of cotton.
Samuel didn’t say anything in reply.
Guilt rushed through her, and her vision blurred. “I’ve worn that coat all over Conques. Everyone’s seen me in it.”
Samuel wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
She rested her head against his chest, but even his warmth didn’t stop the tears from trailing down her cheeks. “Th
ey weren’t after her at all. They were after me.”
Her statement hung, frozen in the air. Samuel didn’t deny it, but continued to hold her. They stood there until one of the nurses walked toward them, her eyes wide and face pale.
“I’m sorry, Leila,” the nurse said, a tremor evident in her tone. “Natalie didn’t make it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SAMUEL WOULD HAVE held Leila as long as she needed, but she pulled away after only a few minutes.
“Come with me. We need to speak to Victor and Inez.” She took his hand and hurried up a flight of stairs.
She was ever the problem-solver. Samuel had never known anyone who could see an issue from all sides and then find the best solution as quickly and accurately as Leila.
It only took them a moment to arrive at Madame Winstone’s door. Leila knocked twice then threw the door open.
Madame Winstone was up and hurrying toward them instantly. “I heard the dreadful news.” She threw her arms around Leila. “I am so sorry, my dear.”
Leila hugged her friend tightly, but only for a moment. Then she was all business once more. “Natalie was wearing my coat.”
“What?”
“My bright blue one. Natalie was wearing it when she was attacked.”
Samuel had promised not to mention Leila’s run-in with Monsieur Jus and his bodyguard, Sidonie. But it seemed that now, such information was quite important. He waited to see if Leila would proffer the information herself.
Madame Winstone’s eyebrow rose high enough to nearly disappear behind her loose coiffure. “Have you given anyone reason to target you?” she asked in a slightly rebuking tone.
Samuel’s lips twisted to the side. What did Madame expect? Certainly, even the best of spies tipped their hands once in a while. Madame Winstone seemed far too quick to judge Leila. Then again, it could be she was only trying to protect her.
“Yes.” Leila’s tone was a bit softer than before. “But I want to explain it to you and Victor at the same time.”
