They both nodded, without the need to look at each other for agreement. Very well. Staunch supporters of the cause.
“Then I will thank you for your help and take my leave. You two are infinitely more suitable for the task, and I’ve distracted you long enough.” I pulled out a scrap of paper and wrote down the Kents’ address. “If you discover anything at all, please include me. You can imagine how difficult it is knowing the danger my sister is in and not being able to help.”
They stood up with me and Arthur took the address. “We do. And I s’pose that fella there knows a bit about it, too,” he said, nodding toward Robert, who by now had buried his face into the crook of his elbow to weep.
“He is a dear friend of mine. Would you make sure he does nothing stupid?”
“If you’ll do us a favor in turn.”
William gave me an earnest look. “You try ta forgive Braddock. He means ya well.”
I pushed in my chair and nodded a clumsy, hesitant good-bye to them. The sticky floor brought me through the smoky haze and out the front door, where I found a sudden, blinding reminder that it was still the middle of the day.
Lost in the bustle of my thoughts, I only realized where I was when my cab came to a jolting stop outside Camille’s building. When I knocked on her door, an elderly man poked his head out this time. “Oh, Miss Wyndham, come in.”
She led me into the dressing room, where she tilted my chin up, admiring her work one final time. “Did it all go accordingly?” she asked.
“Not quite,” I said. “But it was instructive, nonetheless.”
“It often is.” She soaked a rag in a bucket of water warmed by the sunlight and set to reversing the process, scrubbing off my makeup, massaging a tingling substance into my hair, manipulating my shoulders and chest. As she worked, I could swear my muscles were relaxing and my hair lengthening with her every touch, returning almost imperceptibly to equilibrium. It took only a fraction of the time to undo her work.
When she had finished, she motioned to the large looking glass. “Please tell me if there’s anything I’ve missed. I’ll fetch your dress from the other room.”
She left me alone with my reflection. My appearance looked as close to normal as I could tell, though it still felt strange with the loose men’s clothing I wore. Maybe my dress—wait. I’d left my dress in this wardrobe.
I cracked the dressing-room door open and called out, “Miss Camille, my things are here.”
No response. The entire apartment sat silent. She was nowhere to be found in the other two rooms. A chill ran down my spine as I rushed to open the front door and stepped out into the vacant hall. Why had she just left without warning?
“What a pleasant surprise, Miss Wyndham.”
Smiling up at me from the lower staircase landing was my answer. Dr. Beck.
No. No. No.
Not him. Not now. Not this way.
No one even knew where I was. My breath caught, and I fumbled for words before realizing that I should have been running. I bounded upstairs past the second floor, third, fourth, the clatter of footsteps following from one flight below. My chest heaved and my cravat flapped wildly out of my open waistcoat as I pushed myself forward. My suit was less cumbersome than a dress, but it was of no help to me once I burst through the roof door and stumbled outside. A vacant roof, a single entrance, and a five-story drop. The setting sun over the London skyline pleasantly bade me good-bye.
“Miss Wyndham, please.” Dr. Beck and Claude had already caught up, standing by the door. “If you will oblige us for just a few minutes.”
“No, I am in a bit of a hurry, thank you,” I shouted back.
Camille poked her wrinkled head out the roof door behind them.
“You called them?” I shouted at her. “Why?”
She gave me a sort of frowning smile as if I’d asked a stupid question. “I told you. There’s no greater pleasure than removing one mask to reveal another.” She turned to Dr. Beck. “Are we finished?”
“We are. Go enjoy this beautiful evening,” Dr. Beck said with a pleasant smile.
She nodded and shut the door with an aching metal wail.
“You were seconds away from death the other night,” Dr. Beck said. “Yet you still persist in chasing us. It seems stubbornness runs in your family.”
A strong wind rushed in from the west, sending my hair flailing across my face. My heart thumped for Rose. She was still alive, then. I felt flushed, tense, seething. My mind flashed through hundreds of painful fates for him if only I had Mr. Braddock’s abilities.
“Don’t you dare hurt her!” The empty threat escaped against my better judgment.
Dr. Beck took slow steps forward and shook his head. “You keep insisting one girl’s comfort is far more important than millions of other lives. Do you understand how ridiculous you sound?”