I could only stare as her words poured out. My head was swimming, sinking, drowning.
“The truth is, I do love him, and he loves me. We’ve known each other so long, and I’m the last part of home he has. That’s a powerful tie for a man who has lost so much family. But there’s much more to him that I can’t see. I know that he will never fully belong to me—part of him will always be lost in a different world.
“It’s the same way I felt when I first saw you,” she continued, her eyes huge and shining in streaks of passing streetlights. “The other doctors who came to treat my incurable condition, no matter whether they hopelessly went through the motions or ambitiously failed at a radical approach, all looked at me the same way. My disease was a means of keeping their livelihood or making a new discovery. They looked at me without really seeing me.
“But you were different. You knew how hopeless the task was, and you didn’t put much faith in your skills, but there was still a fire, an ambition, and it was not a selfish one. It was in service of something beyond yourself. You saw my life for what it was and imagined a better one.”
She took my hand and gave me a steady smile. “You are so restless, Miss Wyndham! I know that you will be compelled, soul and spirit, to achieve great things and help the world. It will be a beautiful life.”
Her eyes probed into mine, and I wanted to look at anything but her. “I truly do like you—you remind me so much of him. But as drawn to Sebastian as you may be, you will both end up heartbroken because of that restlessness, that energy. He may not love me the same way he could you, but neither will I run off at a moment’s notice. I will be a home for him, an anchor. With my illness, I didn’t know what would happen, but thanks to your cure . . . thanks to you, I will be there for him. Forever.”
Her breathing steady, she turned away and sat composed, silently staring back out the window. I lost my tongue along with all my other functions. The air between us felt like a thin pane of glass that would shatter with the slightest movement.
But it was all presumption. It had to be. Miss Lodge barely knew me. Just because I could handle Sebastian’s touch, I hadn’t expected it to mean anything more. I hadn’t even thought about what would happen after he finished helping me. What did I really suppose he would do? Miss Grey was evidence that someone could control their powers if they had motivation, and I could not imagine anyone more motivated to do that than Sebastian. He’s been searching for a cure for years, and he’s known Miss Lodge for longer. Pressing my forehead to the cloudy pane, cold sinking into my skin, I watched the city flow and melt by, reminding myself that I should be feeling nothing.
When we entered the darkened Lodge home, I sent two new messages to Mr. Kent and Miss Grey, informing them of my newer lodgings and confirming the next morning’s plans. Sebastian needed no such letter.
Miss Lodge showed me to a small, well-appointed room and kindly informed me that I had a place to stay for however long I required. The bed was already turned down, and I climbed onto the firm, nonsagging mattress with a child’s lack of coordination and pulled the warm quilts up to my neck. My ears felt hot, and the more I thought about my breathing, the more irregular it became. I fell asleep whispering to that confused, frustrated part of me that had held onto an abstract hope: “You stupid girl, what did you think? Why would you even care? It’s fine. It’s good, even!”
And though I managed to convince the pillow, I am not sure I managed to convince myself.
“I SAW ROSE . . . I—I saw her with Dr. Beck,” Miss Grey gasped, clutching me tightly.
I responded with marvelous coherency. “When—how—you—”
She pulled herself away and walked the length of the Lodges’ parlor, fingers of early-morning sunlight reflecting off her tearstained face. “In my dreams. Yesterday.”
“What did you see? Do you know where she is?” I asked, standing at the edge of the room, both giving her space and fearing to go farther inside.
She tried to steady her breathing by leaning on a chair. “No, no, I’m sorry, Evelyn, I’m so sorry, I only saw a brief glimpse. Dr. Beck, Claude, and Mr. Hale were discussing her and what to do next.”
“Was she . . . well?”
“I . . . I—I don’t know. She was weak and injured . . . she had cuts and bruises all over. And Dr. Beck was furious. He said she was being stubborn and refusing to heal, and he had no choice but to . . . find the organ that does it.”
I was wide awake now. My insides wrenched up like never before. This is what Arthur and William had said. He’ll do anything for his research.