“Then why not start here, for heaven’s sake?”
Eleanor moved on determinedly.
Ian did not attempt to sway her again, even when she
faltered at the sight of a man lying in his bed, his eyes staring
sightlessly ahead.
“I’ll notify the doctor on duty,” Ian whispered as
he closed the man’s eyes with gentle fingers. Eleanor could only
nod.
She wasn’t willing to admit defeat, even when the
last ward had been walked. “Perhaps someone knows...”
“Knows what? There are so many patients.” Ian shook
his head.
“This is
Rupert
, Ian!” Eleanor rounded on him
fiercely. “Rupert! The boy you played with when you were but a
child! Your friend! How can you be so callous?”
“I am trying,” Ian said between his teeth, “to be
practical.”
Eleanor’s shoulders slumped as defeat, and all its
implications, threatened to overwhelm her. Ian once more put his
arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, dear. I know you care for
him.”
“I do.” The tears she’d held back for so long
threatened to fall, and Eleanor kept them back only by sheer force
of will. She could not sob like a child in the middle of the
hospital. She would not.
“I can ask the doctor on duty,” Ian said quietly.
“Let him know what kind of man we’re looking for. At least if
someone comes in now, we could be notified.”
“Thank you, Ian.”
Eleanor watched as Ia found the doctor on duty, a
harassed young man in a bloodstained coat.
“Lord knows, Campbell, there’s a
hundred men in here who fit that description!”
“Someone who’s been attacked,” Ian said in a low
voice. Eleanor knew he didn’t want her to hear, but she strained to
listen anyway. “Likely to have been brought by someone who didn’t
want any part of it, or that would be my guess. He would have been
beaten... or worse.”
“You sound like you know quite a bit about this
man,” the doctor said gruffly. “For not being involved, that
is.”
“He’s my friend, and I fear for his life,” Ian
snapped. “Can you keep an eye out, then?”
“As much as I can for anyone,” the doctor replied
irritably. “I’ve been on duty for twelve hours as it is...”
“Very well, I understand. Whatever you can do.”
Ian turned back to Eleanor, and any hopes she’d been
secretly harboring crumbled to dust. Rupert wasn’t here, and even
if he did arrive at some point, she wasn’t likely to find him
unless she walked the wards every day. And what of the other
possibilities? Charity houses, or perhaps even in someone's home...
or worse. She pictured him alone, on the pavement or dockside, hurt
and friendless, or worse, dead, and a wave of panic roiled within
her.
No. She would find him. Somehow.
“But how?” Eleanor whispered aloud.
“Eleanor, I demand you return home,” Ian said as he
took her elbow and led her to the front doors. “You look ready to
drop, and you can be of no use to anyone--Rupert included--if you
aren’t well and rested.”
“Don’t speak to me as a child, Ian!”
“I’m speaking to you as a patient, and a doctor,”
Ian said gently. “I mean what I say.”
Eleanor sagged against him. “How can I rest, or
sleep, when I don’t know where he is?” she whispered.
Ian turned so they were facing each other.
“Eleanor,” he asked softly, “do you care for him truly?”
The emotions tumbling within her were too difficult
to explain, or even sort out. Too much had happened too quickly.
Eleanor felt tears making cold tracks on her cheeks, and didn’t
even have the energy to wipe them away. Gazing at Ian, she could
only nod.
“Oh, my dear.” Ian enfolded her in a hug. “We’ll
find him, I promise. I’m off duty, I’ll go to the docks and look
there. We’ll find him, Eleanor...”
Eleanor choked back a sob, her cheek pressed against
Ian’s wool coat.
A carriage rolled up the curb, and Ian gently pulled
her back to arms’ length. “Here’s a hansom cab. Why don’t you take
it home? I’ll alert you the moment there’s news...” He opened the
door, only to jerk back in surprise at the sight within.
“There’s an injured man in here!”
“That’s why I’m taking him to the hospital,” the
driver said grimly. “Before he bleeds all over my cushions. They
had to pay double for me to take him like that, I can tell
you.”
“I’ll get a stretcher...” Ian hurried off, and
Eleanor peered in the shadowy interior of the hansom. The man was
lying prone on the cushions, his head covered by a blood stained
bandage. He moaned, turning slightly towards her.
Eleanor gasped, and scrambled into the cab, heedless
of her dress, of the dirt and blood. Tenderly she touched his
hands, his cheek.
“Eleanor!” Ian called. “What on earth--”
“Ian, stop, don’t you see?” Eleanor turned to her
brother, tears of happiness now blurring her eyes. “It’s
Rupert.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sunlight streamed through the window at the end of
the ward. Rupert lay propped up in bed, his face pale and
drawn.
A huge smile transformed his features when he saw
Eleanor’s slight figure standing hesitantly in the doorway.
“Eleanor. I’m glad to see you.”
“Not as glad as I am to see you,” Eleanor said
tremulously. She moved to stand by his bed. Rupert wanted to take
hold of her hand, but he didn’t want to scare her. Eleanor, his
brave Eleanor, looked as if she could be blown away by a mere
whisper of wind.
“You needn’t be afraid,” Rupert said softly.
“Afraid?” Eleanor looked at him incredulously, and
Rupert didn’t know whether to laugh or be nervous.
“I’m perfectly well...”
“Perfectly well?” Eleanor repeated. She took a step
backwards, shaking her head. “Rupert MacDougall, do you have any
idea what you’ve been through? What you put your family
through?”
“My family?” Rupert asked. “Or you?”
“Both!” Eleanor snapped. She looked angry now, and
Rupert had a feeling if he were not lying helpless in a hospital
bed, she would hit him. “You’ve been missing for a week. A week!
And when Henry told me you’d gone after those forgers...” She
pressed a fist to her mouth before lowering it to point a shaking
finger at him. “We thought you were dead!”
“But I’m safe,” Rupert reminded her as gently as he
could.
“Safe?” Eleanor very nearly shrieked. “Safe? When
you’ve been knocked on your head so you didn’t even know who you
were?”
“I always knew who I was...”
“When we saw you last night, you were insensible.
The doctor said he didn’t know if you’d ever regain your
senses.”
“I suppose that is still open to argument,” Rupert
joked, but Eleanor just shook her head, tears in her eyes.
“We’ve all been beside ourselves with worry. We
daren’t even tell Margaret, in her weak state--”
“Margaret?” Rupert leaned forward, wincing slightly
at the pain in his head. “Is she better? Is she out of the
worst?”
“She’s weak as a kitten, but she’ll make a full
recovery. Her fever broke three days ago now.”
“Thank goodness.” Rupert leaned his head back
against the wall, grimacing in pain.
“Your head,” Eleanor exclaimed. “You mustn’t move,
Rupert, in case you injure yourself further--”
“Fortunately for me I have a hard head.” Rupert
smiled up at her, but Eleanor only looked annoyed.
“A fine time to joke, when someone
attempted to take your very life!” Her hands fluttered at her
sides, as if she wanted to examine his head but was afraid
to.
Rupert caught one of her hands in his. “Are you
truly angry with me, Eleanor, or dare I hope that your ire hides a
feeling more dear?”
Eleanor halfheartedly attempted to pull her hand
away, but Rupert held her fast. “I told you how I felt about you,
Eleanor. I love you. I want you to marry me.”
Eleanor looked down, blinking back tears. “Do you
know--can you imagine,” she whispered, “how it felt to think you
might be lost--dead--and I’d never told you how I felt, because I
was too afraid?”
His eyes blazed as he looked at her steadily. “Tell
me now.”
She looked at him, smiling, yet with tears on her
cheeks. “I love you, Rupert. And if that was indeed a proposal,
I’ll marry you.”
Rupert kissed her palm. “You’ve made me the happiest
of men.”
“Ah, the patient is awake!” Ian cleared his throat,
and Eleanor stepped quickly away. “And apparently on the mend,” he
added, shooting his sister a considering look.
Eleanor blushed and looked away.
“My head hurts something fierce,” Rupert admitted
cheerfully, “but I think I’ll live.”
Ian sat on the edge of his bed. “So can you tell us
what happened? Who attacked you?”
“That I don’t know. Whoever it was, he came up
behind me. I’d barely a chance to realize someone was there before
I was out.”
“And then what happened?” Eleanor asked. “How came
you to the hospital?”
Rupert shook his head slowly. “Do you know, I
couldn’t say for certain. I lay on the pavement stones I don’t know
how long--I was drifting in and out of my senses. Eventually I woke
up in a bed. It looked to me a simple place, somewhere near the
harbor. I could hear the sound of the sea, and the ships in port. A
woman was tending me, and I heard voices in the other room, one of
whom I took to be her grown son. I don’t know how long I was there.
Most of the time I was insensible. The woman gave me a bit of
broth, and bandaged my head. I owe my life to her, I think.”
“You surely do,” Ian agreed somberly. “Why did she
take you to the hospital, though? Most common people are afraid of
the hospital. They see it only as a place of death.”
Silently Rupert agreed with this assessment. As much
as he approved of Ian’s ideas for reform, what he’d seen of the
hospital thus far had been dirty and full of despair. People came
in here, and they as likely did not come out.
Rupert was thankful to be an exception.
“She became afraid,” he explained simply. “I heard
her talking to her son. He was shouting, saying someone was looking
for me. I think he would’ve been happy to dump me back on the
paving stones, but she had more of a conscience. She put me in a
hansom and sent it to the hospital, or so I’ve come to believe. I
wasn’t aware all the time of what was happening.”
“Who was looking for you, I wonder?” Ian asked,
frowning.
“Those criminals, no doubt,” Eleanor whispered
fiercely. “To think how you put your life in danger! And Henry let
you! Urged you, even!”
“You’re not to blame Henry,” Rupert said firmly. “It
was my idea as much as his. He wouldn’t have asked, and I wouldn’t
have offered, if danger were a concern.”
“And why wasn’t it?” Eleanor demanded. “If not for
yourself, then think of those who care for you!”
Rupert linked his fingers with hers. “Aye, I do now.
But as you’ll remember, I wasn’t so certain who might care for
me... or not.”
Eleanor blushed, and Ian looked speculatively at
both of them. “Have you discovered who the counterfeiters are?” he
asked.
Rupert shook his head regretfully. “I never heard a
name. My inquiries into the forgery had led me to a wine merchant
by the docks. Phillips was his name. He mentioned another man named
Summers. I suspect this Phillips was in the forgery ring, but kept
mostly in the dark. He was a greasy little fellow, but scared.” He
paused, smiling ruefully. “More frightened of his betters in the
forgery ring than of any threat I could make.”
“And rightly so,” Eleanor interjected with some
heat. “Rupert, those men could kill you.”
“They haven’t managed so far,” Rupert replied, and
Eleanor pursed her lips.
“Not for lack of trying.”
“Who do you think this Summers is?” Ian asked.
“A middleman, perhaps. I’m not sure. Perhaps just
another underling like this Phillips, taking the dirty money and
passing it on, bringing it into the market. Summers was meant to be
buying twelve cases of port, although who knows, perhaps it was
just a paper transaction to mask putting the money in action.”
“But who benefits from that?” Eleanor asked. “The
man at the top--or men--are putting the money into action, aren’t
they? Why would they just give it away?”
“A fair point,” Rupert replied musingly. “But
perhaps it was only a small amount.”
“Still... they’re hardly making counterfeit money
just for other people to use?”
“No, they surely are not,” Ian agreed. “So why all
this secrecy? What would a man like Summers--or Phillips--gain from
taking the forged notes? Why wouldn’t the counterfeiters just take
it for themselves?”
“To distance themselves,” Rupert said suddenly. His
eyes blazed. “They must be testing it--to see if it is able to pass
through the market. And look--it was discovered on the first
transaction!”
“So what now? They know not to put it into use.
Won’t they just stop?” Eleanor looked hopefully between the
two.
Ian shook his head. “It can’t be that easy. If it
were, they wouldn’t have chased after Rupert, would they? I think
there’s too much invested in this scheme for them to abandon it so
easily.”
Rupert and Ian exchanged darkly significant looks,
and Eleanor clenched her fists. “What are you suggesting you do?
Stop them single-handed?” She turned to Rupert. “You were not
appointed savior of this city, or has no one made that apparent to
you yet?”
Rupert chuckled. He wanted to snatch her up into his
arms, but his head pounded abominably and he knew he was too weak
to do much more than hold out a supplicating hand.
He hated being weak. He hated weakness in himself,
and he despised those who took advantage of it in others. Perhaps
that was what motivated him, he thought. He knew forgery rings
exploited the weak, the common man who couldn’t tell the difference
between a real note and a bogus one.