Page 16 of Dark Embrace

His brows rose and again his lips curved in a hard, sardonic smile. She thought he might answer her, might argue, might chastise. But he only asked, “I have been dismissed, have I?” He made a shallow bow. “Then I bid you goodmorning.”

He strode away, his long limbs eating the distance to the door. Sarah could not stop herself turning her head to watchhimgo.

And all around her, the whisperscontinued.

Elinor squeezed Sarah’sshoulder.

“He didn’t do this,”Sarahsaid.

“How doyouknow?”

Sarah positioned Mr. Scully’s arms so they lay crossed on his chest. “Iknow.”

Elinor sighed. “I’ll wrap him. You fetch astretcher.”

When Sarah returned, she found that Elinor had been shooed off to the side. Both Mr. Simon and Mr. Franks stood by the edge of the bed, along with the matron. The three were involved in an intense whispered discussion with much gesticulation and wary glances cast about. Mr. Simon rounded the bed, lifted Mr. Scully’s savaged arm and spoke in a low, fervent tone. The content of his comments was lost to Sarah’s ears, obscured by the general hubbub oftheward.

Her movements made awkward by the stretcher, she inched closer to the smallgroup.

“It is Thayne’s doing,” Mr. Simon insisted, the words resonating with tension. “We all know it. He attended each of the four deaths, and we had words over the care of each of the four victims. Does no one else wonder at the strangecoincidence?”

“What do you suggest, sir?” asked Mr. Franks. “That he bled the man dry? To what end?” His voice lowered still more. “Do you accuse him ofmurder?”

Sarah stifled a gasp, the sound faint in comparison to Elinor’s huffing exclamation ofdismay.

“I make no accusation.” Mr. Simon offered a sneering, ugly smile. “I state only facts. Thayne disagreed with the treatment of each patient. He insisted that there was no hope for recovery and that death was the definitive outcome.” He paused dramatically and looked about at the neighboring beds as though attempting to be circumspect. A carefully structured ploy, for had that been his genuine intent, he would have taken this discourse to a more private venue. “Thayne was the last to see this man alive. It is well past time for us to summon theauthorities.”

Sarah could not say what possessed her in that moment, but she stepped forward as though in a trance, and spoke in Mr. Thayne’sdefense.

“Sir,” she said. “I was here when Mr. Scully died. Mr. Thayne arrived only later.” Not precisely the truth, but not exactly a lie, either. Mr. Thaynehadarrived later...at least, she thought he had, for she could not say whose shadow she had seen; it could have been his. And as to her assertion that she had been here when Mr. Scully expired, well, she had likely been on the premises somewhere, though not at his bedside. Gently bending the truth was a far cry from breaking it. “And perhaps his wound might be explained bythebugs.”

They all staredather.

“He was...That is...” She wetherlips.

“What place have you in this discussion, Miss Lowell?” Mr. Simon demanded with enough force and fury that Sarah almost silencedherself.

Drawing her courage about her like a cloak, she forced herself to continue in a calm and even manner. “Mr. Scully was complaining yesterday that his skin itched. He said it was bedbugs, and perhaps the added distress of the fever and the infection spreading through his body made him scratch. Could the injuries to his wrist be excoriation? Self-inflicted as he sought to easetheitch?”

There was urgency in her defense; she was driven to offer an alibi for Mr. Thayne. Something inside her would not let them mark him as amurderer.

“You suggest that each of the four patients who died in this exact manner tore at their own skin, driven mad by the itch?” Mr. Franksscoffed.

“Matron said we ought to hire a man to see to the bugs, the way they have at St. Thomas and other hospitals.” Sarah cut a glance at the other woman, who hesitated for an instant and then nodded heragreement.

“But to tear the skin clean through? And the blood vessels, as well?” Mr. Franks folded his hands across his ample belly and peered down his noseather.

Sarah bit her lip. The possibility was ludicrous, but she had set herself on this path and now saw no clear way to change course. Her thoughts skittered this way and that as she tried to summon an appropriatereply.

“Let us examine his body for signs of excoriation,” came Mr. Thayne’s voice from close behind her. She spun so quickly that she nearly unbalancedherself.

He had arrived just in time to save her from her attempt tosavehim.

Calm and steady, his gaze met hers for an instant, his green tinted spectacles nowhere to be seen. She almost wished that he was wearing them, for they offered some protection from his piercing, too-knowing gaze. She had defended him, bent the truth for him. It was a dangerous path she hadchosen.

“Yes, let us examine for such signs,” snarled Mr. Simon, and with little care for propriety or respect, he reached down and yanked aside the neck of the nightshirt that covered Mr. Scully’s pale torso. Deep runnels were gouged in his chest from where he had, indeed, scratchedhimselfraw.

His face a mask of shock, Mr. Simon jerked back and let go his hold on the cloth. “It meansnothing.”