The Wonder(35)

Pretending to misremember a name was such a reliable way to annoy. “Good night, Mr. Byrne.” She headed up the stairs.

“You might do me the courtesy of staying one minute. I had to hear from Maggie Ryan that it’s you who’s barred me from the cabin!”

Lib turned. “I don’t believe I said anything to mislead you about my presence here. If you jumped to unwarranted conclusions—”

“You don’t look or speak like any nurse I’ve ever met,” he protested.

She hid a smile. “Then your experience must have been limited to the old breed.”

“Granted,” said Byrne. “So when may I talk to your charge?”

“I’m simply protecting Anna O’Donnell from the intrusions of the outside world, including—perhaps above all,” Lib added— “Grub Street.”

Byrne stepped closer. “Wouldn’t you say she’s courting the attention of that world by claiming to be a freak of nature as much as any Feejee mermaid at a raree-show?”

Lib flinched at the image. “She’s just a little girl.”

The taper in William Byrne’s hand lit up his copper curls. “I warn you, ma’am, I’ll camp outside her window. I’ll caper like a monkey, press my nose to the glass, and pull faces till the child begs for me to be let in.”

“You will not.”

“How do you propose to stop me?”

Lib sighed. How she longed for her bed. “I’ll answer your questions myself, will that do?”

The man pursed his lips. “All of them?”

“Of course not.”

He grinned. “Then my answer’s no.”

“Caper all you like,” Lib told him. “I’ll draw the curtain.” She went up another two steps, then added, “Making a nuisance of yourself to interfere with the course of this watch will earn you and your newspaper nothing but disrepute. And, no doubt, the wrath of the entire committee.”

The fellow’s laughter filled the low room. “Haven’t you met your employers? They’re no pantheon armed with thunderbolts. The quack, the padre, our publican host, and a few of their friends—that’s your entire committee.”

Lib was disconcerted. McBrearty had implied that it was full of important men. “My point remains, you’ll get more from me than from badgering the O’Donnells.”

Byrne’s light eyes measured her. “Very well.”

“Tomorrow afternoon, perhaps?”

“This minute, Nurse Wright.” He beckoned her down with one large hand.

“It’s almost ten o’clock,” said Lib.

“My editor will have my hide if I don’t send something of substance by the next mail. Please!” His voice almost boyish.

To get it over with, Lib came back down and sat at the table. She nodded at his inky notebook. “What have you got so far? Homer and Plato?”

Byrne’s smile was lopsided. “Miscellaneous opinions of fellow travellers denied entrance today. A faith healer from Manchester who wants to restore the girl’s appetite by the laying-on of hands. Some medical bigwig twice as outraged as I at being turned away.”

Lib winced. The last thing she wanted to discuss was Standish and his recommendations. It occurred to her that if the journalist hadn’t seen the Dublin doctor at Ryan’s again tonight, that meant Standish must have rattled straight back to the capital after examining Anna.

“One woman suggested the girl might be bathing in oil so that some of it soaks in through her pores and cuticles,” said Byrne, “and a fellow assured me that his cousin in Philadelphia’s achieved remarkable effects with magnets.”

Lib laughed under her breath.

“Well, you’ve obliged me to scrape the barrel,” said Byrne, uncapping his pen. “So why all the secrecy? What are you helping the O’Donnells to hide?”

“On the contrary, this watch is being conducted as scrupulously as possible to uncover any deception,” she told him. “Nothing can be allowed to distract us from observing the girl’s every move to make sure no food reaches her mouth.”

He’d stopped writing and was leaning back against the settle. “Rather a barbaric experiment, no?”

Lib chewed her lip.

“Let’s assume the minx has been getting hold of food on the sly somehow ever since the spring, shall we?”

In this village of zealots, Byrne’s realistic attitude was a relief.

“But if your watch is so perfect, that means Anna O’Donnell has had nothing to eat for three days now.”

Lib swallowed painfully. That was exactly what she’d begun to fear today, but she didn’t want to admit it to this fellow. “It’s not necessarily perfect yet. I suspect that during the nun’s shifts…” Was she really going to accuse her fellow nurse, on no evidence? She changed tack. “This watch is for Anna’s own good, to disentangle her from her web of deceit.” Surely Anna longed to go back to being an ordinary child again?

“By famishing her?” The fellow’s mind was as analytical as Lib’s.

“I must be cruel, only to be kind,” Lib quoted.

He caught the reference. “Hamlet killed three people, or five if you count Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.”