Crane checked quickly over his shoulder to be sure the two justiciars were still intent on one another. “I understand your concern, Doctor. Notwithstanding which, and with the greatest respect, it’s none of your business.”
Dr. Gold opened his hands, apparently unoffended. “Perhaps not. Although he’s weeping over my wife in my surgery. That surely gives me some say in the matter, if only to ask him to take it somewhere else.”
Crane wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he didn’t. The doctor continued, “We’re fond of Steph, you know. Despite appearances. I don’t wish to see him hurt.”
“I trust Mrs. Gold feels the same.”
Dr. Gold made a face. “Esther’s bark is worse than her bite. Well, actually, it isn’t, but she’s entitled to do some barking anyway. Steph’s put her through a miserable few months with all this.”
“It hasn’t been very entertaining for him either,” Crane returned swiftly, and saw a glint of something like approval in Dr. Gold’s expression.
“Well, as you say, it’s his business. But watch your step, Lord Crane. And perhaps bear in mind that you may consult me in confidence, professionally speaking.” Crane had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Dr. Gold looked past him before he could ask. “Ah, the march of justice. Have you two finished?”
Crane turned to see that Esther and Stephen had come up behind him, both somewhat red of cheek and eye, but under more control. He flicked an eyebrow at Stephen and received a quick, watery smile.
“Er. Dan…” Stephen began awkwardly.
Dr. Gold gripped Stephen’s shoulder and gave it a slight shake. “Stephen Day, you’re a blithering idiot.”
“I know.”
“Good,” Esther said. “And now that’s all sorted out, we have work to do.”
Chapter Twelve
Before any work could be done, Dr. Gold had to wake Leonora from her magically induced unconsciousness. He began a careful explanation, as she stared at her unbitten arms, which Crane interrupted with a brisk, “They’re shamans. It was magic.”
Leonora accepted the situation fairly rapidly, under the circumstances, but declined to be interviewed in the bloody rags of her gown, so Esther took her off to borrow a dress, and Dr. Gold disappeared to find Crane a shirt, while they waited for Merrick, who had been summoned to bring replacements for his gory clothing.
That left Stephen and Crane briefly alone.
“Are you all right?” Crane asked.
Stephen walked over and held on to as much of Crane as he could reach, burying his face in the stained shirtfront, gripping tight. “Oh God, Lucien. God. I was so frightened.”
“I know. You looked a great deal less scared when we were about to be murdered by warlocks.”
“That was only death. This was Esther.” Stephen snuggled closer, rubbing his face on Crane’s chest, trembling slightly. “Oh God, I’m such a coward. Don’t let me go.”
“I don’t intend to,” Crane said, caressing the curly hair, and something rang in his voice that made Stephen look up.
“You didn’t ask me to do it.” He pulled away slightly. “You don’t owe me anything. It was my choice.”
Crane heard the words from long ago that morning: I have to choose with the rest of my life in mind. His hands tightened on the smaller man, pulling him back, as close as he could come.
“You know, Gold’s right. You’re a fool, and I’m another. Between us, we’d barely make a village idiot. God damn the man,” he added as footsteps sounded, coming down the stairs. “I will talk to you later.”
“What does that mean?” said Stephen warily.
“Shout at. Fuck. Adore. Come here.” He pulled Stephen’s chin up and planted a hard kiss on his mouth, then let him go just as Dr. Gold banged the door open, with a smock-like linen shirt in his hand.
“All I’ve got that might fit you, I’m afraid, here you go. The ladies are ready. If you go upstairs, I might even be able to see some patients. What the devil is that?”
“Tattoos.” Crane finished stripping off his stained shirt as the doctor stared in astonishment at his decorated, animated skin. “I had them done in China.”
“They’re moving!”
“They do,” Stephen said. “Don’t ask.”
“This is typical of you, Steph,” said Dr. Gold bitterly. “Typical. Of course you can’t just be unnatural like everyone else. Go on, get this overgrown magic lantern out of my way, this is a surgery, not a circus. Out!”