Chapter 27 Great Lengths Are Sometimes Necessary
Great Lengths Are Sometimes Necessary
Dear Harry,
I am well served for my unspeakable conduct the other morning.
I am sure as a clergyman you will be glad to hear that it torments me as though I was on the rack.
G and I can hardly look at each other. Every time I think of it, guilt slashes through me like a knife, and yet I cannot stop thinking of it.
Perhaps I have mortally offended her. And yet—surely my memory is not mistaken? Surely she is the one who reached out to ki
Harry, I know we are not papists and you are dead, but what would you say to setting me a bit of penance? I feel it would ease my mind. I do not know their catechism, but perhaps I could recite the times tables.
There is little to distract us, for we can take no further action till the leeches climb the glass again.
Today I set out alone to meet Pike. On my way I once more came upon Pike’s Mairead.
She looked rather different—not ill; in fact, she had more bloom than before—but her color was rather high, almost feverish. But she smiled when she saw me.
We exchanged a few more words—I can now proudly say green and nose and eyes and something that is either dirt or brown —and then Pike himself strolled up.
“Miss Mary,” he said with a bow. “I should have known that the lure of an unfamiliar tongue would draw you.” He turned to Mairead and said something in her tongue that made her smile.
“You know me well, then. Can you ask her if we might meet regularly? I could pay for an hour or so of her time.”
Pike frowned a little, then shrugged and turned to the girl and spoke again. The girl laughed and gave a smiling reply. Pike turned back to me. “She says she is sorry but she is very busy here, and she doubts you can afford such good wages as Mr. Pike. You may go now, Mairead.”
“Slan,” said the girl. She bobbed a curtsy and headed back toward the factory.
Pike offered his arm to me. “Shall we walk?”
I took it and we set off down the lane. “Why did you bring factory girls who spoke no English?” I asked him.
He patted my hand. “The factories in the north always import workers from the east coast of Ireland, where the people speak English already. That leaves the Irish speakers to the west unemployable. I felt sorry for them.” He shrugged.
“My mother’s people were from near Derry.
She brought an old nurse with her when she married Father, so I speak a little of the Irish tongue.
I thought I could make a good bargain and do a good turn at the same time. ”
“That makes sense,” I admitted.
“Good.” He patted my hand again. “Where is your friend today?”
“At home, I believe. She did not care to walk. She is probably making more serum. We always need more.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm what?”
“I am glad you’ve such affection for her,” he said. “You deserve to be surrounded by worthy friends.”
“But?”
“But is she worthy?”
“Sir!”
He held up his hands. “I intend no rudeness, but surely we have been through enough not to stand on ceremony?”
“I suppose,” I said reluctantly.
“Do you not think she has secrets from you?”
I could not deny it. “We all have secrets.”
“True. All I mean is that when you return home you should make sure that her afternoon alone in your lab has left you with more serum, not less.”
“What?!”
“I could be wrong,” he said hastily. “I mean no offense. Only—Miss Bennet, I could swear I saw her secreting phials away in her apron pocket last time I was there.”
“I am sure she was not ‘secreting’ anything! That is what pockets are for!”
“Brilliant people often have those around them who would take advantage.”
I thought of her strange behavior regarding her illness. “Why don’t you trust her?”
“I have tried, for your sake. But she is too different. You and I, Miss Bennet—we know what it is to be seated farthest from the fire and expected to hide our shivers.”
“What are you saying?”
“Put not too much trust in the rich. They will never really understand the cost of things.”
I tried to suppress it, but an image rose up in my head: Georgiana, on a trip to the village dressmaker’s last week, holding a bit of deep blue ribbon up to my cheek. “It complements your complexion,” she’d announced. “You must buy it.”
It was pretty. “I cannot afford it. My pocket money for the month is nearly gone.”
She shrugged. “I shall buy it for you, then.”
“No!”
My voice was louder than I intended. Several patrons turned to look at us. I modulated my voice. “No, thank you. I’ve plenty of ornaments.”
She looked rather hurt. I took her arm and dragged her to the sweet shop as a distraction, but there was a bit of a bruised feeling between us the rest of the day.
Now, I tightened my hand on Pike’s elbow. I turned us down the lane toward the churchyard. “It is not her fault she is rich.”
“No indeed,” he agreed. “I am being silly, no doubt. Why is it you wished to see me today?”
“Right.” I drew a deep breath. “Miss Darcy and I believe we have found a way to reduce or even eliminate your dependence upon our serums.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Yes, but we need something from you.”
“If it is in my power, it is yours.”
We were in the churchyard now. Red and brown leaves drifted down and whirled around us in the wind. I led him toward the back, to a modest but well-kept grave.
“This is what we need,” I said. “Human bones. Ribs, to be exact. Two of them ought to be enough.”
He frowned down at the gravestone. “Who is Henry Bennet?”
Forgive me, Harry. I know it is ghoulish. But you were a man of both science and faith; as the former, you will understand that sometimes sacrifices must be made for progress; and as the latter you will agree that great lengths are sometimes necessary to save a soul.