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“As would visiting Mellie Jacobs’s place of work,” Grace said.
His fingers stopped drumming, and he shuddered. “I need not tell you how much I dread it. I doubt the employees will understand where my interests lie. I’ll be in for some rather awkward explaining, I’m sure.”
“I could do the talking,” Grace said. “I’ll cover my scars. No one will know I’m a mental patient.”
Thornhollow shook his head. “As I said before, sometimes even I forget that you are one. I’m not sure it would be wise to expose you to—”
“I am hardly naive,” she said, cutting him short.
“I know that,” the doctor said, hands returning to his face as he rubbed his forehead. “But I can hardly defend taking a young woman who is under my care into a . . . a . . .”
“Whorehouse.”
“Yes, fine. Into a whorehouse. Really, Grace—how would that look?”
“Then you need not accompany me,” she said.
“I wouldn’t let you go in there alone under any circumstances.”
“You won’t have to,” Grace said. “I have an idea.”
TWENTY-FIVE
“Ye want me to do what now?” Nell asked, her black eyebrows almost meeting her hairline.
“Shhh.” Thornhollow shushed her with one finger to his lips, his eyes shooting to the doorway.
Grace watched from her chair, the midmorning light slanting through the office windows. Nell’s voice had carried, but no one came to inspect her outburst. Grace relaxed, one hand reaching over to cover her friend’s.
“I know that this is highly irregular,” Thornhollow went on, his voice pitched low.
“’Ighly irregular is me daily life, Doctor. Bein’ asked if I want to go for a stroll down to the whorehouse with a mute lassie alongside me by a man who’s supposed to be the next Jaysus Christ is flat cockamamie.”
“I’m hardly Jesus Christ,” Thornhollow said, already looking exhausted by their conversation.
“Janey says ye are,” Nell shot back. “A peculiar brand of savior, but a saint for the crazies nonetheless, she says. Ye can’t do no wrong in ’er eyes, now that Mrs. Jacobs sleeps the night through.”
“My canonization aside, you need to know that I wouldn’t ask you to expose yourself to that kind of environment without good reason.”
Nell rolled her eyes. “I’ve exposed meself to worse, as ye well know. Ye say that I may be able to ’elp catch the fellow tha’s done in Mrs. Jacobs’s daughter, then I’m in. Takin’ Grace ’ere with me makes me feel a bit odd, but if ye say tha’s the way of it, then tha’s the way of it.”
“I need Grace’s eyes and ears. Her memory is impeccable and she may see things that you miss.”
Nell shifted uncomfortably. “Aye, well, I’m a little worried about ’er seeing things tha’ per’aps she’d rather miss.”
“Grace is unflappable in any situation, Nell. Trust me on that count.”
Nell reached over and squeezed Grace’s hand. “In tha’ case, go put on yer pretty dress, lassie. We’re going to the whorehouse.”
Grace tucked her slate and chalk under one arm, lacing the other with Nell’s as they strolled casually down the hill.
“Now, don’ you be tellin’ Janey or even Lizzie, but this ’ere isn’t exactly the first time I’ve wandered off the grounds,” Nell said. “They make it nice an’ easy. No fences, or the like. If you look like ye know what yer doin’ ye can walk off fer a few hours and come back in time for dinner, none the wiser.”
Grace nodded as they turned the corner, wandering into a copse of trees that hid a footpath. Nell said it would lead down to a shallow patch in the river, and from there town was only a stone’s throw away. The girls unlaced their boots at the bank, and Grace sucked in her breath as she stepped into the cold water.
“Aye,” Nell agreed, wobbling on one leg as she pulled off her stocking. “It’s gettin’ to the time of year I won’t be makin’ me trips till she freezes over. Charlie’s family, they sends him some money once in a while. Ever’ now an’ then I sneak down here and we splits a bottle or two of somethin’ ’ere in the woods.”
Nell crossed after Grace, and they yanked their boots back on quickly, Grace’s toes curling against the cold. Grace felt the other girl’s eyes on her as they emerged from the riverbank and made their way into town.
