performance than a medical experiment.
It had all happened so fast; first she and Mary-Ruth were on one side of the door, holding their breath, and then they were pushing through, an eruption of male voices greeting them. She’d known that their presence in a medical theater would have raised a few brows at least, but she had not been prepared for utter chaos that two women could cause simply with their entrance.
“Out!” The man in the white apron was propping up an unconscious Tabby with one arm, and gesturing wildly at them with the other. The feeling of pure hot anger came flooding back to her, the way she used to feel when she shielded Tabby from one of their aunt’s stinging blows.
Mary-Ruth had broken free of the doctor and was tugging her arm. “We don’t leave under any circumstances,” she hissed. “This may be our only chance.”
She didn’t need to convince Alice; there was no way that she would let Tabby out of her sight now that she’d found her again.
The other man, the one who had been watching from the side, turned toward her. He had cold blue eyes and an angular face that radiated arrogance and contempt. It could only be Mr. Whitby.
As soon as those eyes locked on her, he went pale, as if he had seen a ghost. Then he was striding toward them, up through the wooden balcony seats. “No! They do not leave.” He motioned to a man, and before she knew what was happening, the door was being closed behind them.
Alice threw a look at Mary-Ruth, panicked. But in the short time of their acquaintance, she should have learned that Mary-Ruth was tougher than her tall, slender figure and delicate features belied.
“I am sure these esteemed gentlemen do not want to be party to kidnapping,” Mary-Ruth said.
Mr. Whitby smiled, a surprisingly charming and genuine smile. “These esteemed gentlemen understand that scientific advancement sometimes demands extreme measures.”
The men in question seemed intrigued and a little nonplussed, but hardly shocked or outraged. Did they not understand just what they were witnessing? “Mr. Whitby and this—” she gestured at the man in the white apron “—this doctor are holding my sister against her will, using her for grotesque experiments!”
She waited for the men in the audience to object, to spring into action, but if they were concerned with the ethical ramifications of what was happening, no one said anything. Mr. Whitby threw a look at the doctor, some silent signal passing between them.
A moment later the man in the white apron was taking Alice by the arm, and tugging her toward the auditorium floor. She dug in her heels, but it was no use. From behind her she could hear Mary-Ruth’s vain protests.
All those years ago Alice had left her little sister cold and alone, sitting on the steps of a church in an unfamiliar city. She’d done it because she’d thought it was the only way to keep her safe, to protect her. But now, as she gazed helpless at Tabby’s limp form, she knew with a heart-wrenching certainty that she had been wrong. They should have stayed together, no matter what.
“Remove her,” Mr. Whitby ordered with a nod toward Mary-Ruth. “Somewhere she can’t cause any trouble. And send for the police—Sergeant Hodsdon will take care of this. He’s one of ours.”
Alice watched helplessly as Mary-Ruth was roughly escorted from the auditorium. She wanted to go after her, but Mary-Ruth would be all right. It was Tabby who needed her now the most.
The men took their seats again. Normalcy returned, as if they were simply attending the most mundane of lectures, and two women hadn’t just barged in, another drugged before their eyes.
“I apologize for the interruption,” Mr. Whitby was saying. “Unfortunately, as our subject had to be subdued with the use of drugs, we will not be able to continue with her.”
An older man with full white side-whiskers and a long, austere face stood up with the help of a cane. “How long will you continue to delay? It’s been nearly fifteen years, and I expect to see some return on my investment before I find myself on the slab.”
A few other men murmured and nodded their agreement.
So the audience was more concerned with money than the well-being of a young woman. Alice’s heart sank even further; no one here would help them.
Mr. Whitby held up a hand to silence them. He may have been an evil man, but he had a commanding