shoulder, didn’t reach for it, nor so much as blink in recognition.
The nurse said, “Ain’t any good giving this one anything. She don’t know nor care.”
“On what grounds do you make that claim, Fleming? Have you tried to talk to her?”
“No point,” Fleming said. “Just another crazy.”
“I object to your choice of words.”
The nurse shrugged. “Just the way things is, ma’am.”
Harriet sniffed. “I believe I read from the transcripts of the hearings that you’re keeping your patients dosed on chloral. Have you been drugging Mrs. Allington?”
“No need,” Fleming answered. “This one don’t give no trouble at all. Just sits and stares.”
“And you do nothing for her?”
“What do you want I should do? Won’t do no good.”
“This place is an abomination,” Harriet said crisply. “As a nurse, I should think you’d be ashamed to work here.”
“Got to work somewheres,” Fleming said. She peered at Harriet, her thrust-out neck wobbling. “Not everybody can do it.”
“I can imagine.” Harriet pressed the linen bag into Frances’s limp hand, and in the process, despite her cousin’s unwashed and decidedly noisome condition, put her long, strong arm around Frances’s shoulders.
It was the signal. Annis stepped swiftly forward, elbowing Fleming aside, and linked her arm with Frances. Now, at last, she pressed the adder stone beneath her bodice as the two of them, she and Harriet, held Frances between them.
The glamour enveloped Frances, rendering her instantly invisible. No one but Annis and Harriet could see her. Even to Annis’s eye she looked shadowy and vague, a figure half-seen.
Harriet said, in a voice that rang with authority, “Fleming, that will be all. Thank you.”
The nurse stared at them in confusion. “What—you mean you’re done now? Visit over?”
“Yes. We won’t need you further. You may stay with your patients.”
Fleming’s mouth opened and stayed that way. She stared at them, her eyes narrowing as if she were trying to remember something, a chore she was supposed to do, an order she was supposed to be following.
Harriet said, under her breath, “Now, Annis. Let us go.”
As quickly as they could, they moved out of the dimness of the ward and into the brighter light of the corridor. It was difficult, urging Frances to walk between them. Her steps were uncoordinated, as if her feet were numb. It made for an awkward progress, but they had to remain in contact to close the circle of magic.
It was an agonizing walk down the hallway and around the corner. It helped that Frances weighed almost nothing, but they had to half carry her, not daring to release her arm or her shoulders for even a moment. Once or twice her feet simply stopped moving, and they found themselves literally dragging her. As they labored across the lobby, Annis felt as if the distance to the doors had tripled, but it seemed they were going to make it without interference.
“Wait! Mrs. Bishop!”
Harriet muttered, “Damn.”
It was Beaufort, trotting across the lobby toward them, his round belly bobbing as he ran. “Mrs. Bishop, a moment, please!”
Annis couldn’t see a way out of it. She and Harriet exchanged a glance above Frances’s head and slowed their steps. Frances slumped against Harriet as they came to a stop and waited for Beaufort to reach them. They must have looked odd, with Harriet’s arm around Frances’s shoulders, and Annis with an arm around her waist, holding her up as best she could. To her own eyes they made a suspiciously awkward trio, an unnatural formation of bodies.
Annis could hardly breathe with tension as Beaufort walked around to stand in front of them. He didn’t look at Annis, which was no surprise, since he believed her to be Harriet’s maid. He didn’t look at Frances, either. The glamour was holding.
Harriet said, in a haughty tone Annis had never heard her use, “Yes, Mr. Beaufort? I believe I made clear that I am in a great hurry this morning.”
“Oh, I won’t keep you,” he said hastily. “I simply wanted to make certain everything is to your liking in the ward. You will tell Mr. Allington—that’s George Allington of the Allington Iron Stove Company, is it not? I looked it up. Please tell him we will take the best possible care of his wife. I’ll see to it personally.”
“He will be glad to hear that, Mr. Beaufort,” Harriet said. “And no, I did not find everything to my liking. It’s far too cold in that room, and many of those women need warm baths and fresh clothes.”
“Oh yes, ma’am, yes indeed. I’ll speak