William Monk 06 - Cain His Brother

of the Crimea held a credit he could not deny.
    “I see. Presumably you have tended fever before, other than in Limehouse?”
    “Regrettably—yes.”
    He raised black eyebrows, straight and level above deep set eyes.
    “Regrettably? Does that not give you an advantage of experience?”
    “It is not pleasant. I saw too many men die who need not have.”
    His expression closed over. “I am not concerned with your political opinions, Miss—er—Latterly. My only interest is in your ability to nurse my wife, and your willingness.”
    “Of course I am willing. And I have as much ability as anyone.”
    “Then it remains only to discuss your remuneration.”
    “I consider Lady Ravensbrook my friend,” she said icily. “I do not require remuneration.” She could regret that later. She most assuredly required funds from somewhere, but she had enormous satisfaction in denying him now. It would be worth a little chill or hunger.
    He was taken aback. She could see it in his face. He regarded her soiled and crumpled clothes, of very mediocre quality, and her weary face and straggly hair, and a minuscule flicker of amusement crossed his mouth and vanished.
    “I’m obliged to you,” he accepted. “Dingle will attend to any laundry that may be necessary and prepare and bring to you whatever food you desire, but since she will be in the company of other servants, she will not enter the sickroom. I have a responsibility to do what I can to keep the fever from spreading throughout the household, and then God knows where.”
    “Of course,” she said levelly, wondering how much he was thinking of himself, whether he would visit the sickroom … or not.
    “We will have a cot put into the dressing room where you may rest,” he went on. “May we send to your home for any change of clothes you require? If that is not suitable, Iam sure Dingle could find you something. You look not dissimilar in build.”
    Remembering Dingle’s scrubbed, middle-aged face and meticulously plain clothes, Hester found it not a flattering thought, but then on the other hand, she was of a surprisingly comely figure for such a dour woman, so perhaps she should not be downhearted about it.
    “Thank you,” she said briefly. “I am afraid I have little available at home. I have been in Limehouse for so many days I have had no opportunity to launder.”
    “Just so.” At the mention of Limehouse his face tightened, and his disapproval of Enid’s participation was plain enough not to need words, not that he would have spoken them in front of her. “Then it is agreed? You will remain here as long as it is required.” It was an assumption, and as far as he was concerned, the matter was finished.
    “She may need nursing all the time,” she pointed out. “Night as well as day, when the crisis comes.”
    “Is that more than you can cope with, Miss—Latterly?”
    She dimly heard someone’s footsteps crossing the hall behind her and fading away as they went into another room.
    “Yes it is,” she said decisively. “Especially since I still have some moral commitment to the hospital in Limehouse. I cannot leave Lady Callandra totally without experienced assistance.”
    A flash of temper crossed his face and he drew in his breath sharply.
    “My wife is a great deal more important to me, Miss Latterly, than a score of paupers in the East End who will almost assuredly die anyway, if not of this, then of something else. If you require some remuneration, then please say so. It is not dishonorable to be rewarded for one’s labor.”
    She curbed the answer that rose to her lips, although with difficulty. She was too tired to be bothered with such trivialities of arrogance and misjudgment.
    “She is also personally more important to me, my lord.” She met his eyes very levelly. “But matters of duty can exceed one’s own emotional ties and certainly one’s individual wishes. I imagine you believe that as thoroughly as I do? I am a nurse, and I do not abandon one patient for another, no matter what my personal feelings might be.”
    A dull color flushed up his face and his eyes looked hot and angry. But she had shamed him, and they both knew it.
    “Have you some friend or relative who could watch while I am absent?” she asked quietly. “I can show them what is to be done.”
    He thought for a moment. “I imagine that will be possible. I will not have Dingle coming and going, spreading it through the house. But Genevieve may be willing