The Madman’s Daughter by Megan Shepherd Read Free Book Online

The rest is … well, the doctor’s supplies.”
    My curiosity was piqued. Surgical tools? Specimens? But I shook the questions out of my head. I wanted my father’s truth, not his science.
    “Does he ever speak of me?” I asked in a rush. I had to ask before he sailed away, forever.
    Montgomery grinned, one second too late. “Yes. Of course.”
    I didn’t smile back. I knew that grin, one side pulled back just slightly, jaw set harder than it should have been. Montgomery had given me that grin before, when our house cat had run away. He promised me all cats knew their way out of the city to the farms where mice grew fat as pigeons. But the cat hadn’t made it out of the city. Later I found out Father had drowned it for bringing fleas into the house.
    That grin meant Montgomery was lying.
    I stood so fast the teapot rattled. I pushed my chair back, looking for my bag. I realized I wasn’t ready to learn the truth. And Montgomery … I hadn’t felt such intense and confusing emotions in so many years that I didn’t know what to do but run.
    “I need to go. I was supposed to work tonight.”
    He stood, surprised. “Stay. It’s been so long—”
    “It was good to see you,” I said, stumbling toward the door. I’d forgotten the time. Mrs. Bell had asked me to help clean the operating theater before a lecture Monday morning. She’d be furious I wasn’t there.
    Balthazar poked his head out from the other room, giving me a quizzical look. The parrot pecked against the bars of its cage. “I’m sorry about trying to break in,” I said.
    “Miss Moreau, please! Wait.”
    I was out of the room before Montgomery could finish. I hurried down the stairs, into the dining hall, where theproprietress was mopping the floors. She looked up, but I didn’t stop until I was outside.
    T HE STREETS WERE EMPTY . Saint Paul’s church bells tolled as I made my way along Cannon Street. My head was as foggy as the night. Eight, nine, ten tolls. Ten o’clock. Blast . Mrs. Bell would skin me alive. I picked up my skirts—my Sunday best, which would take too long to change out of—and ran through the back alleys to my boardinghouse. Annie gave me a quizzical look as I threw open the door and grabbed my basket of cleaning supplies, but I couldn’t waste time on an explanation.
    I ran back out into the night, down the Strand toward King’s College. Mrs. Bell and Mary would probably still be there, seething that I was late. I tried to ignore the other thoughts clouding my mind: My father was alive but hadn’t contacted me. Montgomery was back, and yet he’d soon return to my father, as though our roles as servant and child were reversed.
    At last I made it to the entrance of the medical building and dashed up the granite steps, tugging on the front door. Locked. I set down my basket and gathered a few bits of broken stone from the street and tossed them at the high first-floor windows, praying Mary would hear me. Mrs. Bell would give me an earful for being late, but it was better than not showing at all. My aim wasn’t good, especially since my bare hands were cold and trembling, but a light went on in one of the windows.
    “Thank God,” I said, cupping my freezing nose. Ipicked up my basket of cleaning supplies. I’d help them finish and then scramble home to my warm bed, where I could bury my thoughts in a downy quilt. I’d find a way to get a message to Lucy about my father being alive. She’d know what to do.
    The door jerked open. I hurried inside but stopped when I saw the face lit by candlelight.
    “Dr. Hastings—” I said. He closed the door, plunging us into darkness lit only by the glowing flame. When he slammed the door behind me, the sound echoed through the empty hallway.
    “Juliet. It’s quite late.”
    “I’m to help Mrs. Bell,” I stuttered, holding up my basket. His eyes were on my Sunday dress. No coat, no gloves. I must have looked suspiciously out of place on a cold night. I swallowed. “I’ll