Daniel must have warned Mr. Thanos and Cynthia and her friends that he was attending tonight, and in what guise, because they pretended to regard him as a stranger.
“A doctor,” Daniel continued. “There must be one in all this crush.”
“No need,” Sir Arthur wheezed. “I’ve eaten something that disagreed with me, is all. Take me home—I’ll be well.”
“You came by train, did you not?” I asked Lady Covington as she wavered indecisively.
“Yes, yes. We already have the tickets for a late train back.”
“Perhaps the railway will let you on an earlier one, or you could hire a coach.”
“The train will be much more comfortable. They will certainly let us on—my husband ran the railway board.” Lady Covington’s imperious manner returned.
“Shall I find your stepson for you?” Neither he nor his siblings were anywhere in sight.
“Ah yes, George.” Lady Covington seemed to have forgotten she had a stepson. “Please, Mrs. Holloway, find my children. We must convey Arthur home.”
Her agitation showed she hung between concern and real fear. Sir Arthur’s symptoms could be those of poisoning—had he drunk or eaten something meant for Lady Covington? However, I’d seen neither of them eat or drink a thing. They’d been shaking hands and flattering potential donors to the school since the lectures ended. Sir Arthur’s illness could be perfectly natural.
“A doctor, I say.” Daniel raised his voice. “Is one about?”
I turned from him and pushed through the gathering crowd in search of Lady Covington’s brood.
I saw none of them hurrying worriedly to their uncle to see what had happened. I cursed the lot of them under my breath as I rushed past the long fountain toward the lecture area, where I’d seen Jonathan nip down a side aisle. While I did not trust the lad, Lady Covington would be happiest with him to comfort her.
I followed the path he’d taken and found myself in the natural history exhibits, which housed replicas of animals, plants, and dwellings from all over the world. I passed the Amazonian rain forests then across to Africa and through more space to Borneo and New Guinea, all the while searching frantically for signs of Jonathan.
A rustle of skirts and light laughter towed me past New Guinea to Australia, where a woman’s figure solidified in the darkness. I heard more laughter and then a man’s low tones.
I scuttled forward, ensuring I made plenty of noise. The woman gasped and turned, and the man she was with—I glimpsed only a tall person with a beard—vanished past the clump of Australian plants.
“Miss Morris?” I called softly.
Harriet strode abruptly out of the shadows. “What do you mean, spying on me? What are you doing here?”
Her words did not sting, because I sensed great fear beneath them. I wondered who the man was, and why Harriet had arranged to meet him here in a part of the Palace not lit for the gathering.
“I was sent to look for you, miss,” I said. “Your uncle has taken ill, and your mother wishes for you to all go home.”
“Does she?” Harriet shook her skirt free of a bramble-like plant. “Drat it. What is the matter with Uncle Arthur? What have you to do with it? You are a maid, are you not?”
“Your uncle fears he ate something that disagreed with him,” I said, ignoring her mistake about my profession.
Harriet glanced in concern toward the wider aisle, then she rounded on me and seized my arm in a firm grip. “Not a word, do you understand? You say nothing about what you saw, or I’ll have you sacked.”
“You have no need to threaten me, Miss Morris. Now, before you race off, let me help you pin your hair. It is greatly mussed.”
Harriet released my arm to clap a hand to her hat, crushing the lace curled on top of it. The hat had slipped sideways, and dark tendrils of hair drooped haphazardly to her shoulders.
I quickly slid a few hairpins from her complicated braid, tucked in the stray locks, and smoothed the entire coiffure.
“Much better,” I declared.
Did she thank me for my trouble? No, the young lady glared at me and rushed away toward the gathering point.
I scanned the darkness for the man, but he’d gone. I wondered if he’d been one of the guests this evening or if he’d traveled here furtively to see Harriet.
I left Australia and moved back across the globe to the refreshment area. Harriet was hurrying toward her mother, the very picture of worry. A man bent over Sir Arthur, holding his wrist—I assumed Daniel had managed to find a doctor. George had joined them, but Jonathan and Erica remained absent.
I recalled Erica wandering into the Pompeian house, so I turned my steps that way. Bobby and Miss Townsend were scouring the guests for the missing family members, and when Miss Townsend caught my eye, she shook her head. No luck.
The door of the Pompeian house stood ajar, and I stepped inside.
It was dark here, but enough light leaked over the open roof and doorway to provide faint illumination. An atrium filled the front of the house, a square pool of water in its center. Doorways grouped around this led to small cubicles. Red and yellow walls held painted scenes of people reclining on couches, playing lyres, or dancing.
I glimpsed all this only in passing, my eyes drawn to what lay the floor of the atrium. Erica sprawled facedown and motionless next to the pool, one hand outstretched as though she’d tried and failed to reach the cool water.
10
Mrs. Hume.” I raced forward, dropping to my knees. I turned her over, Erica’s body flopping limply onto my lap.
Her face was gray, her half-closed eyes glinting in the dim light. I had little idea how to find someone’s pulse, but I lifted her hand and peeled back her glove.
Her skin was warm, and as I touched her, Erica dragged in a hoarse breath.
Not dead, but very, very ill.
“Mrs. Hume.” I patted her face, but she only groaned and did not acknowledge me. I spied a handkerchief peeking from her sleeve, pulled it out, dunked it into the pool’s water, and dabbed her face. “Wake up, my dear, please.”
I needed to fetch the doctor. I started to rise but was pulled down by a surprisingly strong grip.
“Henry,” Erica whispered. “You must—” She broke off with another moan.
“Do not move. I will bring help.”
“Don’t leave me.” Her plea was heartbreaking. “Henry . . .” She began to silently cry.
I pried her fingers from me and hurried to the door. “Bobby!” I shouted, seeing her nearest.