Mark sucked in a breath. “You mean she’s missing?”
“Well, I’m not sure we would saymissing.It sounds so dire.” He wrung his hands.
“Check for messages. See if anything was delivered.” He tookhis hat and scarf back from Gaye. “I’m going to find her.” Mark stormed out into the night.
Worry assailed him as the rain pounded against the side of the hansom cab.Is she so angry with me she refused to come home? Did she miscarry? Is she wounded in a hospital somewhere? What if she’s so angry she refuses to see me when I find her? What if Seamus O’Malley found her? Where is she?He’d never been so anxious before, not even during his first storm on theBlack Prince.
Mark pounded on the locked dispensary door. It took several moments for Amelia to answer. The dispensary had closed for the day and she’d taken off her white coat and let her hair down in a simple braid. “What’s wrong?” she asked, opening the door to let him in. Wind swept inside, nearly blowing Mark’s hat off.
“Where’s Ellen? Have you seen her?” Mark demanded, a puddle forming under his feet.
Amelia shook her head. “Not since she left on her last visits of the day to brothels in Covent Garden.”
Mark swore. “She could be anywhere!” He quickly told Amelia about his concerns with Seamus watching them two weeks ago. “Have you heard from him? Do you think he’d do something?” One hand clenched into a fist at his side.
Amelia frowned, thinking. “He’s not much of a strategic thinker. But if he was in the wrong mood, and the opportunity arose, then yes, I think he’d do something to hurt her.” She shivered. “Where have you looked already?” She raced upstairs to get her raingear.
Before long, a minor search party was in session. Five people, mostly parents of Ellen’s former patients, went door to door, knocking through the slums and asking if anyone had seen the lady who takes care of weak babies. Everyone said no. One person went off to the Daugherty’s home to see if they knew anything. Another said they knew of the brothel and escorted Mark to them.
As the hours went on, Mark’s worry gnawed at his stomach. He felt sick. He barged into the first brothel, demanding to knowif Ellen had seen a baby there that day. She had, the madam said, then went across the street. The errand boy had seen her enter another establishment. Mark, wordless with guilt and concern, pounded on the door of the next brothel.
The burly doorman said yes, a woman matching Ellen’s description had been there earlier. She’d given bad news to one of the girls. No, the girl wasn’t around, she’d taken the baby to a midwife and wasn’t expected back for several hours.
Growling in growing anger, Mark stormed out of the brothel. “We retrace our steps. She went missing somewhere between this brothel and the dispensary.” Mark scowled at the adolescent boy shivering and soaking wet beside him. “Come on, then. A crown if you point me the way.”
They took the most direct route, the boy swearing this made the most sense for Ellen to follow. Water streaming from the rim of his hat, Mark didn’t even feel cold. The fear burning in his chest kept him warm. He’d go all night if he had to. It was so dark the slick cobbles didn’t even shine in the night. Instead of washing all the filth and decay away, the rain brought up the dirt and refuse, causing sewers to overflow the grates in the street. The air stank of desperation and despair.
I’m sorry,he wanted to scream into the night air.I’m sorry I ever hurt her. Please, let her come back. Even if she never wants to talk to me again. Even if she hates me, just please let her be well.Mark’s fingers were numb by the time he returned to the dispensary. No one knew anything. They huddled around the small iron stove, coal sizzling and popping inside, trying to form their next plans.
Then one of the men burst in, face wet and coat soaked through. “I just left an alehouse. A man was talking there about Seamus O’Malley. He was seen a couple of hours ago near Tucker’s Way, and he had a woman with him.”
Mark nearly grabbed the man’s shirt in his desperation. “Tell me where he is. I know it’s him.”
“No one’s seen O’Malley since then. But we can go to Tucker’s Way.”
Everyone hurried back out into the rain. Amelia stayed at the dispensary in case Ellen appeared there. She worried her lips and twisted her hands as she set her lamps in the bay window. “Bring her back, Captain Glenfall. Please bring my friend back.”
A lump welled in his throat. Mark sharply nodded and followed the others into the rain.
Two hours later, they’d searched every nook and crevice of the alley and hadn’t found a thing. If there’d been anything to find, Mark realized glumly, the rain would’ve washed it away by now.
The four men remaining with him rubbed their bleary eyes and murmured worries about their own families in the potential flooding. He probably should offer to let them go home, but he didn’t. They didn’t ask, either.
Instead, three filed into the dirty pub at the corner of the lane to question the serving maid again about how long ago Seamus O’Malley had been there. The fourth said he’d check the surrounding buildings one more time.
Mark nodded sharply and went back to the street and turned down the next alley, wading through knee-high water. The water rushed downhill toward the river. A dead cat whisked by him. He nearly slammed into someone. Irritated, Mark stepped back and looked up at O’Malley himself. God, he’d forgotten how big the man was.
“I hear you’ve been looking for me,” the man rumbled. He wore a slick oilskin coat, likely stolen, but his boots were sodden and full of holes.
“Where is my wife?” Mark held his breath against the reek of beer, mud, and body odor, grabbing the man’s collar and yanking his face down to his.
O’Malley smiled, teeth the color of three-day-old piss. “Safe and sound. For now.”
Mark saw red. He didn’t even know he’d punched the man until his knuckles were smarting and O’Malley was stretching hisjaw. “You’ll release her, or I swear to God I will make your life a living hell.” He widened his stance, drawing on the old deck brawls he’d watched on the ship.
O’Malley’s eyes darkened. “She did that already.”
Mark vibrated with rage. “If you want your bloody carcass still above ground by sunrise, you will take me to her this instant. And if you’ve harmed a hair on her head, I’ll take it out of your flesh with a dull knife.”