Malise’s temper flared protectively, and she glared at St Vinet, not caring that he was a gentleman and she only the hired help.
Leaning forward to give him his cup of tea, she whispered, “Mind your manners, sir.”
His gaze, as grey as gunmetal, lifted to hers, and locked. Simmered. His cheeks were ruddy with emotion.
“What was that, Miss Bristol?” asked Mr Rathburn of her back.
A long moment of silence passed.
“No, Nurse Bristol,” murmured St Vinet, his nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated. “I require no sugar or cream. Thank you.”
Mr Rathburn interjected, “Miss Bristol, I’ve only just now realized the clock on the mantle says four-thirty, which I know very well is usually the time you leave for your day off. I have no wish to intrude upon your personal time. Please go on and do enjoy yourself.”
She poured his cup of tea and made sure he had a firm hold on the saucer before releasing it to him. “Are you certain, sir? I don’t mind staying.”
“As always, you have done more than your job requires and this old man is grateful for that. I’ve left coins for a hansom cab in the dish by the door.”
“Mr Rathburn, you oughtn’t—”
He raised his hand and shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of you walking in the rain.”
St Vinet listened to them silently, his hands curled into fists on his thighs.
Though she was curious to see what else would pass between the two men, she realized she had no good excuse to remain.
“Thank you, sir.” She took up her coat and bag, and the coins from the dish, and let herself out. “I shall see you Monday morning then.”
In the hallway, she buttoned her coat. She removed her nurse’s cap and replaced it with the small taffeta and straw bonnet she kept in her reticule. A narrow door led to the service stairs, and she descended to the ground floor, emerging into another narrow hall. The staff physicians kept their offices here, as well as the administrators of the facility.
“Nurse Bristol.”
It was Head Nurse Henry.
“Yes, Nurse Henry.”
“Please step inside my office.”
Malise did so, holding her reticule tight against her ribs. “Would you prefer that I sit?”
Nurse Henry’s eyebrows had been drawn on her forehead in brown grease pencil. The twin arcs crept up her forehead. She shrugged, and stated briskly, “Sit or stand, your choice makes no difference to me. What I have to say will not take long, so I will not dally with empty words. Plain and simple: your employment has been terminated.”
The word echoed in Malise’s head.
“Terminated?” she whispered.
“Don’t make me repeat myself. You know what that word means.”
Her chest felt as if a boulder had been dropped upon it. Barely able to breathe, she blinked through tears. “Yes, of course I do, but why?”
“Mr Rathburn has insisted upon it.”
Mr Rathburn had insisted on her termination? She had come to trust her elderly patient. This place had become her haven.
“Are there no other positions available here in the hospital?”
“No.”
“I would even consider a housekeeping position.”
Nurse Henry’s eyes narrowed to slits. “To keep you here after a valued patient has requested you be released would be awkward, to say the least. Do you have all your belongings with you?”
Malise looked down at herself. A dress, shoes, coat and a reticule. “Yes.”
Nurse Henry slid an envelope across the desk. “You’ll find a week’s severance pay inside. That is all. You may go.”
Numbly, Malise left by the service door at the back of the hospital. She’d followed the rules. Done everything she was supposed to do. She’d stayed invisible. How could this have happened? Where would she go? She had only enough saved earnings to stay in the boarding house for three, perhaps four days. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shivered and walked beneath the metal gate, into the street. A hansom sped past, but she did not hail it. She would not squander the coins given to her by Mr Rathburn, not now when every shilling meant survival. Why would he have done something so thoughtful, such as give her coins for a hansom, when he knew she would never return? Guilt, perhaps? In her mind, that explanation made no sense. None of this made sense. She looked back upon the stone façade of the hospital, to his bay window. No face peered down at her, only the faint glow of lamplight.
A horse pulling a large open wagon rattled into view. Crowded with occupants, the vehicle radiated with laughter and song.
“Stop! Driver, stop!” shouted a woman’s voice. The horse and wagon veered toward the curb, nearly barrelling over Malise. “Nurse Bristol!”
A score of boisterous male and female voices mimicked the original caller by shouting her name. Another time, she would have smiled at their good humour but tonight their attentions left her feeling exposed. She perceived the dark glimmer of more than one bottle being passed to and fro inside. A familiar face emerged from all the others — Nurse Alice. She grasped the side rail of the wagon, and hoisted herself half-over, pink-cheeked and smiling. The scarlet roses on her straw hat had come unfastened and dangled near her left ear. Her eyes were bright. Drunkenly bright.
“I worried when I did not see you at the station. You’re only just now getting away?”
Malise now saw that several of the newly hired nurses were passengers in the wagon as well. With such an audience, she couldn’t bring herself to share her unfortunate news. Not just yet. Instead, she forced a smile. “I had to stay a bit late.”
Alice tsked. “They’ll work us to death if we let them. Come on. Get in. There will be no train t’night. Something about the tracks and emergency repairs. Everyone pitched in a few coins for the wagon.”
Malise hesitated. Though she was in no mood to climb into a wagon full of raucous strangers, the distance to Chelsea was too far for her to undertake on foot. Returning to the hospital was out of the question. Coldness seeped through her coat and into her bones. Fog hovered above the surface of the roadway.
Nurse Alice held up a dark brown bottle, and grinned. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“The woman says ta’ get in!” one of the young men shouted. “We’re freezin’ our arses off,” hollered another. Numbly, Malise nodded and allowed herself to be pulled inside.
Nightfall
“He’s here, St Vinet.”
Dominic did not pretend for even a moment not to know of whom Anson, the man who had once been his mentor and closest friend, spoke. Everything inside him tensed.
“How do you know?”
“The same as before. When night comes, I hear his laughter. He taunts me. Soon, he will come for me, just like he did for her.”
It no longer mattered what differences had come between them four decades before. The Seether had come out of hiding, as they had always suspected he would. A myriad of visions from the past filled his mind. Terror. Violence. Blood.
He responded with vehemence. “I will stop him.”
“I have become an old man—”
“Truly? I hadn’t noticed,” he responded snappishly.
Rathburn’s fists curled. “I can’t help but believe he’s been out there waiting and watching all along, until I grew so old and infirm that I could no longer defend myself.” He whispered, “Back then, it was my greatest wish to Reclaim the Seether, to be the one to dispatch him to Tartarus where he belongs.”
Inside Dominic’s chest, the old anger surged anew. “You should have thought of that before you so foolishly relinquished your immortality for the love of a mortal woman — a woman the Seether promptly murdered, just to show you he could.”
“Speak no more of it!” shouted Rathburn, clasping his hands to his face. More softly, he repeated. “Speak no more of it, please.”