She nodded. “A gentleman I know is very ill. He has received treatment from the finest doctors in London, but nothing has yet to help. Earlier this evening...” her voice broke, and she had to wait a moment before continuing. “I have been told he is in the gravest danger and to prepare for the worst.”
After Richard Fitzalan’s praiseworthy performance, Amelia’s distress had little effect on me. For all I knew, she was employing a similar skill to attain a similar end. “Why do you think I can help?” I asked, biding for time, as well as answers. “Did someone tell you I was a healer?”
“Lord Fitzalan said you were the best healer in the Colonies. If there is any truth to his claim, then I beg you to come with me to this gentleman’s lodgings.”
Blasted! Amelia had asked for my help and now I was obligated to act. However, that didn’t mean I would run blindly into another trap.
A smattering of power warmed my palm. Taking a step closer, I placed it ever so lightly on Amelia’s arm. “This gentleman must be very dear to bring you out in the middle of the night.” Power trickled into her unnoticed, opening a channel to her emotions.
Her blue eyes turned to pools of sadness. “He is very dear, Miss Kilbrid. So much that I could not bear his loss.”
Heartache flowed into me. Tears burned my eyes, and I nearly cried out under the immense weight of her grief. Dropping my hand, I stumbled back a step.
“Miss Kilbrid!” the princess exclaimed, as she caught hold of my elbow. “Are you unwell?”
Pity swelled in my chest when our gaze next met. “Just snagged a heel on the rug is all. Let me fetch my cloak, and we’ll be off at once.”
*
We rode together in her carriage through a maze of darkened streets. Buried in the folds of a thick black cloak, Amelia kept her own company. In the absence of a lamp, I stared openly at her rigid form on the opposite bench. My fingers curled around a small glass bottle hidden in my pocket as I tried to make sense of the bits of information I had managed to gather.
Amelia loved this man, so much that her heart was near breaking at the thought of losing him. Certainly, she must have cared for a great many people, but the emotion I felt could only be attributed to a particular sort of love. Since Henry was currently gone from London, I surmised that her affections belonged to another man—a man that she was not at liberty to wed, or there would be no reason for this clandestine behavior.
“Where are we going?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me when a quarter hour had passed.
Amelia shifted her weight on the bench, and pulled the cloak tighter. “It is not much farther.”
And that is not what I asked. “Are we going to the palace?”
My persistence earned a heavy sigh. “Please understand, Miss Kilbrid, there will be no particulars given in regards to the gentleman beyond his illness. I hope you can accept the delicacy of the situation and that secrecy is of the utmost importance to ensure the safety of those involved.” She paused for a moment. “I promise you will be well rewarded for your time...and for you discretion.”
A smile formed of its own accord. Oh, you’ve no idea the price, I thought as the carriage slowed to a halt.
Sparing no time for the footman, Amelia threw the door open and leapt down. “This way,” she said, the moment my feet touched the ground.
Like two thieves, we ran through the shadows down a long narrow alley. Fog moved around us in swirls of wispy ghosts that broke against our skirts. Amelia reached for my arm. “In here,” she said, before turning into what appeared to be another alleyway. A cat darted across our path, and I had to stifle a cry of alarm.
Amelia’s hold tightened as she steered me onto a path, past an iron gate set between two imposing stone walls. The cobbled pavers gave way to rough gravel that shifted beneath my heels. Looking up, I saw the flicker of candlelight coming from one of the upper rooms in what appeared to be a modest Tudor home.
The path ended at a large wooden door. “Here we are,” Amelia said, further announcing our arrival with three soft knocks.
Hurried footsteps sounded inside seconds before the door swung open. A young maid curtsied and stepped aside for us to enter.
“Are the doctors gone?” Amelia asked in a hushed tone.
The girl bobbed her head. “No one up there but Thomas, your highness. Just like ye ordered.”
“And Thomas...is he still...” Amelia’s voice tapered to a halt.
“He’s still with us, though I don’t know for how much longer.”
Amelia swept past the maid, down a hallway, and up a set of stairs so narrow, they could only be meant for the servants. I scrambled to keep pace, bumping into her arm when she came to a sudden stop outside a chamber door.
Her hand rested on the knob. “I beg you, Miss Kilbrid, do whatever you must to save him.” Tears streaked her pale face as she pushed the door open.