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A drian set off immediately after breakfast. A quick conversation with Murry had helped ease his mind regarding Samantha. Adrian knew he couldn’t force her to do as he asked. Besides, he’d no wish to bend her to his will though he hoped common sense would prevail so she could recuperate as needed.

However, should she choose to ignore his request, he wanted Murry with her. The loyal valet had promised he’d try to dissuade her from leaving the house, but if she refused to listen, he would accompany her wherever she wished to go.

Adrian climbed the wide stone steps when he arrived at St. George’s and entered the building.

Heels clicking against the recently washed tiles, he strode to where the nurse on front desk duty sat, her head bowed as she wrote something.

He’d never seen her before, perhaps because he rarely came here this early.

Registering his presence, she looked up from her papers and smiled. “Welcome to St. George’s. How may I help you?”

“I’d like to speak with Mr. Melroy if he’s available.” Adrian handed her his calling card and waited for the usual response—raised eyebrows, parted lips, a frozen look that conveyed either fear or uncertainty.

The nurse responded with neither. It was as though she’d never encountered his name until now. “I’m afraid he’s busy this morning, but I can tell him you stopped by.”

She held Adrian’s calling card toward him, clearly wishing to return it. Unaccustomed to being treated as though his name bore no weight, he stared at her while regaining his balance.

He cleared his throat. “What about Doctor Ashburry or Doctor Wentworth then?”

She angled her head. “May I ask what this pertains to?”

Adrian considered abandoning his attempt at following protocol and simply walking past her. Once he entered the main part of the building, he was certain he’d find staff who knew him well enough not to stand in his way.

Nevertheless, he recognized the nurse’s desire to do her job properly, so he accepted the brief delay in explaining himself and said, “I’m helping Bow Street with a murder investigation. The individuals I wish to speak with may have information that can lead me in the right direction.”

“Good heavens.” She blinked in rapid succession and glanced around as though seeking assistance. “I’m terribly sorry but I’ve not been instructed on how to deal with such matters.”

“Allow me to help.” Adrian produced the document Kendrick had signed and showed it to her. “This proves I’ve been given authority, besides which I’m acquainted with most of the staff here. If you can find another nurse or physician who’s not too busy, I’m sure they’ll be able to be of assistance.”

“I…um…I’m not supposed to leave my post.”

Adrian frowned. “How are you meant to alert the orderlies when a new patient arrives?”

They were usually on standby so it surprised him to see they were nowhere in sight. Then again, it was still early in the day. Adrian was the only other person in the foyer.

“I ring that bell.” The nurse gestured toward a velvet cord tucked into a nearby corner.

“Then ring it,” Adrian told her.

“But I’m not supposed to—”

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” He crossed to the cord and gave it several hard yanks while the nurse shot out of her chair and launched into a protest. Adrian ignored her. She clearly lacked experience – a point he meant to address with whomever he spoke to next.

The French doors swung open a few moments later, and Doctor Wentworth appeared with the orderlies on his heels. His grave expression transformed into something approaching surprise when he spotted Adrian.

“Mr. Croft,” said Wentworth. “What an unexpected pleasure to find you here instead of the emergency I expected.”

Wentworth sent the nurse a questioning look that caused her to flush. “I tried to explain that I wasn’t to ring the bell unless there was cause to, but Mr. Croft refused to listen and rang it himself.”

“Only because you were proving unhelpful.” And now he was starting to sound like a petulant child. Christ have mercy.

“This is a hospital,” the nurse countered, “not a social club. The people who work here are busy dealing with medical issues. Anyone needing their help with other matters will have to wait.”

“As St. George’s most prominent donor, Mr. Croft is aware of that, I’m sure, Mrs. Lester.” Wentworth gave her a pointed look.

“I…um…” Mrs. Lester’s expression transformed from defensiveness to contrition so quickly, Adrian knew she felt genuinely awful for handling the matter so poorly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“My involvement with the hospital aside,” Adrian told her, “you should strive to offer assistance to anyone who comes here.” He held up his hand when she looked prepared to argue.

“I know the physicians are busy and shouldn’t be called away from their work on a whim, but you could have stepped away from the desk and called for another nurse to lend a hand.

Don’t forget, I did state my business. A murder investigation is no small matter. ”

Wentworth turned to Adrian, his eyes wide beneath his grey eyebrows. “A murder investigation?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to discuss the case with you in private.”

“Of course. Right this way.” To Mrs. Lester, Wentworth said, “We’ll address the way you handle visitors later. Until then, I’ll have Mrs. Burns join you since it appears you can benefit from her experience.”

“Again, I’m terribly sorry,” Mrs. Lester said. Adrian nodded and followed Wentworth through the double doors and into the hallway beyond.

“My apologies,” Wentworth said as they walked to his office. “Mrs. Lester has been with us long enough to know how to handle various matters. I’m surprised at how poorly she dealt with your simple request.”

“What surprised me most was that it seemed she’d never heard of me.” Adrian was still baffled by that. Not because he felt the world should know his name, but by God, he’d filled the front page of most papers in recent weeks.

“You’re jesting.” Wentworth halted in front of the door to his office and pushed it open.

Adrian preceded him inside the small space. “My calling card had no impact on her whatsoever.”

Wentworth sighed. “She was hired on the basis of her experience treating wounds. I realize that doesn’t mean she can handle administrative tasks but… Well, at least we know she’s got something to learn. Right?”

Adrian took a seat without comment and waited for the other man to do the same before saying, “I actually came here hoping to speak with Mr. Melroy. It’s my understanding he’s unavailable, however.”

“That’s correct. Melroy is trying to save a man who was run through by a piece of wood that snapped under pressure at his construction site. Ashburry is assisting, which leaves me on standby, should anyone else require emergency help.”

Mrs. Lester’s refusal to let Adrian interfere in what was appearing to be a much busier day at the hospital than what he’d initially thought made more sense.

“With that in mind, I believe you should give Mrs. Lester some leeway. She was right not to let me insist on a meeting under these circumstances.”

Surprise slackened Wentworth’s features and for a second he seemed to be at a loss for words. He then cleared his throat and said, “Nevertheless, we’re here now, so please let me know how I’m able to help.”

Adrian leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. “What’s your opinion of Melroy?”

“He’s an excellent surgeon. I have the greatest respect for him.”

“And as a man?”

Wentworth hesitated and it became clear that he was unsure of how to respond. Eventually he said, “If I ever need a surgeon, I’d prefer a cantankerous one who knows what he’s doing to one who’s pleasant but prone to mistakes.”

“Yet you are both pleasant and capable, proving that one does not exclude the other.”

“While I appreciate the compliment, there’s a reason why Melroy’s the only British surgeon to replicate Francisco Romero’s open pericardiostomy.”

“I’ve no idea what that is,” Adrian said.

“It’s a fairly daring approach to the treatment of pericardial effusions. That is to say, the buildup of fluid around the heart.”

“And by open you mean…”

“Exactly what it implies. The surgeon opens up the chest, acquiring the access he needs in order to drain the fluid.”

“Dear God.”

Wentworth chuckled. “This profession requires grit, Mr. Croft. It’s not for the faint of heart, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

Adrian fought the shudder that came with imagining what it must be like for the poor patient. The pain involved. Unimaginable. He prayed he would never have to endure such a thing.

“Why is Melroy the only British surgeon to have done it?”

“First, it’s an aggressive procedure with a high risk of mortality.

Should the patient perish, their death will no doubt be blamed on the surgeon.

Second, The Society of the School of Medicine in Paris has actively tried to silence Romero’s work.

The only reason Melroy knows the technique is because it was presented during his academic visit to Paris. ”

“Sounds like he’s the forward-thinking sort,” Adrian mused.

“Most of my colleagues believe in medical advancements. We’ve made great strides in recent years though we’ve still got our work cut out for us when it comes to general physicians, many of whom continue to advocate blood-letting.

Especially when they’re stumped by an ailment.

We’re trying to convince them to offer such patients a second opinion here, but we’re mostly met by stubborn refusal.

As awful as it is, few physicians want to relinquish the coin a patient provides. ”

“You make it sound like they’re not much better than barber surgeons.”

Wentworth snorted. “Now there’s a bunch of wrongdoers the world would be much better off without.”

Deciding to return to the point of their conversation, Adrian asked, “What about Doctor Ashburry?”