“I must say, everyone appears so downright cheerful this afternoon, it’s rather disturbing. Give me a proper scowl, good man. Ah—” he smiled at the glare Father leveled at him— “that’s the spirit! Excellent job, Father.”
“Nathaniel,” Father warned, his glassy focus darting between us. “This matter does not concern you.”
“Are we terrified to let the girl out of the protective bubble again? Heaven forbid she catch pox and perish. Oh, wait,” Nathaniel cocked his head. “That’s happened before, hasn’t it?” He dramatically grabbed my wrist, checking for a pulse, then staggered back. “By God, Father. She’s quite alive!”
Father’s pale hand shook, and he blotted at his brow with a handkerchief, which was never a promising sign. Nathaniel usually managed to diffuse Father’s anxiety with a well-placed quip. Today wasn’t one of those days. I couldn’t help noticing extra lines around Father’s mouth, dragging his lips into a near-permanent frown. If he’d only let some of his endless worry go, it would erase a decade from his once-handsome features. Strands of gray hair were also slipping in between his ashy-blond locks more and more lately.
“I was just telling Father I’m on my way to the carriage,” I said as pleasantly as I could manage, feigning ignorance of the volatile atmosphere. “I’m meeting Uncle Jonathan.”
Nathaniel clapped his gloved hands together, a sly smile spreading across his face. He couldn’t resist assisting me with my chosen medical studies. Mostly because my modern stance—on why girls were equally capable of having a profession or apprenticeship—offered endless amusement.
My brother’s love of arguing made him an excellent barrister-in-training, but his fickle attention would lead him elsewhere soon enough. His prior whims included a few months studying medicine, then art, then a horrendous effort with a violin—which went badly for all who had the misfortune of hearing him practice his scales.
Though, as heir to our family legacy, he needn’t learn a trade at all. It was merely something to pass idle hours and afternoons besides drinking with his pompous friends.
“Ah, that’s right. I recall Uncle saying something about tea earlier in the week. Unfortunately, I had to decline his invitation, what with my studies and all.” Adjusting his gloves and smoothing his suit, Nathaniel stepped back and grinned. “Your dress is exceptional for today’s weather and special occasion. Seventeen now, right? You’re stunning, birthday girl. Don’t you agree, Father?”
Father scrutinized my ensemble. He was probably searching for a lie to prevent me from traveling to Uncle’s home, but he wouldn’t find one. I’d already packed the carriage with a change of simpler clothing. If he couldn’t prove I was going to practice unholy acts upon the dead and risk infection, he couldn’t very well stop me.
For now, I was dressed in proper afternoon tea attire; my watered-silk gown was the same shade of eggshell as my silk slippers, and my corset was tight enough to remind me it was there with each painful breath I took.
I was suddenly grateful for the rose-colored gloves that buttoned up to my elbows; they were a fashionable way to hide how much my palms were sweating.
Father ran a hand over his tired face. “Since it’s your birthday you may go there for tea and come straight back. I do not want you going anywhere else. Nor do I want you engaged in any of that”—his hand fluttered about like an injured bird—“that activity your uncle is involved with. Understood?”
I nodded, relieved, but Father wasn’t through.
“Should anything happen to your sister,” he said, staring at my brother, “I will hold you responsible.”
Father held Nathaniel’s gaze for a moment longer, then stalked from the room, leaving us in the wake of his storm. I watched as his broad form disappeared down the hallway and until he slammed the door of his study shut with one backward swipe of his hand. I knew he’d light a cigar soon and lock himself away until morning, thoughts and memories of Mother plaguing him until he fell into a troubled sleep.
I turned my attention to Nathaniel as he pulled out his favorite silver comb and ran it through his hair. Not one golden strand could ever be out of place, else the universe might possibly explode. “A bit warm for leather gloves, don’t you think?”
Nathaniel shrugged. “I’m on my way out.”
As much as I wanted to speak with my brother, I had serious engagements that needed attending. Uncle was a creature of many habits, and tardiness wasn’t tolerated. No matter that it was my birthday.
Personally, I didn’t think the dead would mind waiting five minutes to be cut open and explored, but I didn’t dare say so out loud. I was there to learn, not ignite the demon sometimes lurking within him.
Last time I questioned this rule, Uncle had me sopping bloody sawdust up for a month. I wasn’t keen on receiving that punishment again; blood had crusted my nail beds and was terrible to clean away before supper. Thank goodness Aunt Amelia hadn’t been visiting, she would’ve fainted at the sight.
“Do you want to have lunch tomorrow?” I asked. “I can tell Martha to prepare something for us to bring to Hyde Park, if you’d like. We can even walk round the Serpentine.”
Nathaniel smiled a bit sadly. “Perhaps we can take a belated birthday stroll around the lake next week? I’d certainly like to know what you and Uncle Cadaver are up to in that house of horrors.” His eyes sparkled with a hint of trouble. “I worry about you seeing all that blood. Can’t be good for your fragile womanly temperament.”
“Oh? Where in a medical dictionary does it say a woman cannot handle such things? What is a man’s soul made of that a woman’s is not?” I teased. “I had no idea my innards were composed of cotton and kittens, while yours were filled with steel and steam-driven parts.”
His voice softened, getting to the heart of what was truly bothering him. “Father will go berserk if he discovers what you’re really doing. I fear his grasp on reality is most delicate these days. His delusions are becoming… worrisome.”
“How so?”
“I—I caught him sharpening knives and talking to himself the other morning when he thought everyone was still asleep.” He rubbed his temples, his smile fading. “Perhaps he thinks he can stab germs before they enter our home now.”
This was troubling news indeed. Last time Father got this way, he’d made me wear a facial mask each time I left the house to avoid breathing contagions. While I’d like to fancy myself above things such as vanity, I’d hated the stares I’d received when venturing out. Going through that again would be torturous.
I plastered on a big smile.
“You worry too much.” I kissed him on the cheek before heading for the door, my own tone lightening again. “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up losing all of your luxuriant hair.”
Nathaniel chuckled at that. “Duly noted. Happy birthday, Audrey Rose. I do hope you have a wonderful time with whatever it is you’re up to. Be careful, though. You know Uncle can be a bit… mad.”
Twenty minutes later I was standing in the basement of Uncle’s laboratory, getting acclimated to the smell of someone else’s nightmare.
Dead flesh had a sickeningly sweet undertone that always took a bit of time getting used to. Fresh, unharmed bodies gave off a scent similar to a raw chicken. Bodies deceased for a few days were a bit harder to ignore, no matter how much experience one had with them.
Miss Nichols was murdered less than a day ago, but the strong dead rat scent confirmed her injuries were brutal. I said a silent prayer for her troubled soul and ravaged body before fully stepping into the room.