Tess Gerritsen - The Bone Garden - A Novel

— At what? —

— All these young ladies searching for husbands. Not to mention all their desperate mamas. You can see there aren't enough medical students to go around. —

At this, Norris laughed. — You must be in heaven. —

— If this were really heaven, there wouldn't be so many girls who are taller than me. — He noticed that Norris's gaze was not on the girls, but on the buffet table. — I think that at the moment, ladies are not your first priority. —

— That juicy-looking ham over there definitely is. —

— Then shall we make its acquaintance? —

Near the oysters, they met up with Charles and Edward. — There's more news about Dr. Berry, — said Edward. — He was spotted in Lexington yesterday evening. The Night Watch is searching there now. —

— Three days ago, he was in Philadelphia, — said Charles. — Two days ago in Portland. —

— And now he's in Lexington? — Wendell snorted. — The man really does have wings. —

— That is how some have described him, — said Edward, glancing at Norris.

— I never said he had wings, — said Norris.

— But that girl did. That silly Bridget. — Edward handed off his plate of empty oyster shells to a maid and now considered the wide array of choices to sample next. There were puddings in the shape of a fan and fresh cod dressed in salad.

— Try some of our cook's splendid honey cakes, — suggested Charles. — They've always been my favorite. —

— Aren't you eating? —

Charles took out a kerchief and dabbed his brow. His face was a bright pink, as if he'd been dancing, but the musicians had not yet started to play. — I'm afraid I have no appetite tonight. It was freezing in here just a while ago. Mother had them build up the fire, and now I think they've quite overdone it. —

— It feels perfectly comfortable to me. — Edward turned and beamed at a slender brunette in a pink gown as she glided past. — Excuse me, gentlemen. I think my appetite has moved on to other things. Wendell, you know that girl, don't you? Won't you introduce me? —

As Edward and Wendell drifted away in pursuit of the brunette, Norris frowned at Charles. — Are you unwell? You look feverish. —

— I don't really feel up to being here tonight. But Mother insisted. —

— I'm quite impressed by your mother. —

Charles sighed. — Yes, she has that effect on everyone. I hope you didn't have to suffer through her women should be doctors speech. —

— A bit of it. —

— We have to hear it all the time, poor Uncle most of all. He says there'd be riots if he ever dared admit a woman to the college. —

The musicians were now tuning their instruments, and already couples were pairing up or searching out likely dance partners.

— I think it's time for me to retire, — said Charles, and once again dabbed his brow. — I'm really not feeling well at all. —

— What's wrong with your hand? —

Charles looked down at the bandage. — Oh. It's that cut from the dissection. It's swollen up a bit. —

— Has your uncle seen it? —

— If it gets any worse, I'll show it to him. — Charles turned to leave, but his path was blocked by a pair of smiling young ladies. The taller one, dark-haired and wearing a gown of lime-green silk, said: — We're quite annoyed with you, Charles. When will you visit us again? Or are you snubbing us for a reason? —

Charles stood gawking at them. — I'm sorry, I haven't the foggiest— —

— Oh, for pity's sake, — the shorter girl said. — You promised to come this past March, remember? We were so disappointed when your uncle showed up in Providence without you. —

— I had to study for exams. —

— You could have come anyway. It was only for two weeks. We'd planned a party for you and you missed it. —

— Next time, I promise! — said Charles, impatient to retreat. — If you'll excuse me, ladies, I'm afraid I have a touch of fever. —

— Aren't you going to dance? —

— I'm feeling rather clumsy tonight. — He looked desperately at Norris. — But let me introduce you to one of my most brilliant classmates, Mr. Norris Marshall from Belmont. These are the Welliver sisters from Providence. Their father is Dr. Sherwood Welliver, one of my uncle's friends. —

— One of his dearest friends, — the taller girl amended. — We're visiting Boston for the month. I'm Gwendolyn. She's Kitty. —

— So you're going to be a doctor, too? — said Kitty, her gaze beaming up at Norris. — All the gentlemen we meet these days seem to be doctors or about-to-be doctors. —

The musicians had begun to play their first set. Norris caught a glimpse of the diminutive Wendell leading a far taller blonde across the floor.

— Do you dance, Mr. Marshall? —

He looked at Gwendolyn. And realized, suddenly, that Charles had managed to slip away and was at that moment making his escape, leaving him alone to face the Welliver sisters.

— Not well, I'm afraid, — he admitted.

The girls both smiled at him, undeterred.

Kitty said, — We are splendid instructors. —

The Welliver sisters were, indeed, fine instructors, patient through his missteps, his wrong turns, his brief befuddlement during the cotillion while other couples skillfully twirled around him. Wendell, dancing past, leaned in to offer him a whispered warning: — Take care around the sisters, Norrie. They'll consume alive any eligible bachelor! — But Norris was delighted just to be in their company. Tonight, he was a sought-after young man with prospects. He danced every dance, drank too much champagne, and ate too many cakes. And he allowed himself, just for this one night, to imagine a future of many such evenings.

He was one of the last guests to pull on his coat and leave the house. Snow was falling, fat luxurious flakes that tumbled down like soft blossoms. He stood outside on Beacon Street, his face lifted to the sky, and breathed in deeply, grateful for the fresh air after his exertions on the dance floor. Tonight, Dr. Aldous Grenville had made it clear to all of Boston that Norris Marshall had earned his approval. That he was worthy to step into the loftiest circles.

Norris laughed and caught a snowflake on his tongue. The best is yet to come.

— Mr. Marshall? — a voice whispered.

Startled, he turned and stared into the night. At first, all he saw was falling snow. Then a figure emerged from the curtain of white, the face framed by a tattered cloak. Ice encrusted her eyelashes.

— I was afraid I'd missed you, — said Rose Connolly.

— What are you doing here, Miss Connolly? —

— I don't know who else to turn to. I've lost my job, and I have nowhere to go. — She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. — They're looking for me. —

— The Night Watch has no interest in you now. You don't need to hide from them. —

— It's not the Watch I'm afraid of. —

— Then who? —

Her chin snapped up in alarm as Dr. Grenville's front door opened, spilling light from the house. — Thank you for a most enjoyable evening, Dr. Grenville! — said a departing guest.

Norris quickly turned and began to walk away, afraid that someone might see him speaking to this ragged girl. Rose followed him. Only when they were well down Beacon Street, almost to the river, did she fall into step beside him.

— Does someone threaten you? — he asked.

— They want to take her from me. —

— Take whom? —

— My sister's child. —

He looked at her, but her face was hidden by the hood of her cloak. All he saw, through the veil of falling snow, was a glimpse of alabaster cheek. — Who wants her? —