Amelia woke in the dark to a hand clamped over her nose and mouth. Thrashing in terror, she clawed at the wrist until a familiar voice hissed, “Ow! Stop that!”
She stilled.
“Do you know who I am?”
She nodded, her heart still racing. As soon as his hand withdrew, she sat up and flung her arms around him. “Jonas!”
She felt him sag.
“Thank god.” He returned the hug for a long moment before drawing back. “I’m sorry for scaring you. But I didn’t know what kind of state you were in. I couldn’t risk you screaming if you didn’t recognize me.”
“I can’t believe you’re here. How did—” Amelia stopped as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She reached out and fingered the rough fabric of his orderly’s jacket.
“So it was you I saw that day when—” She flushed as she recalled exactly where she’d been when she’d seen him.
“Yes.” There was anger in his voice. “I was going to try to catch your eye, but at the last minute I realized I didn’t know how you would react.”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said again.
He squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry it took me so long. You were hard to track, and even once I knew you were here, I couldn’t get to you right away. But then tonight—”
“Was a laudanum night,” she finished.
His tone was disgusted. “For three of the wards on this side of the building. No one’s walking them. The nurses are drinking sherry in one of the parlors, and the orderlies are gambling in the staff room. They’ll eventually notice I’m gone, but we’ve got some time. This place.” He shook his head. “How in god’s name did you wind up in here?”
Amelia huffed out a bitter little laugh. “I went for a walk.” She told him what she remembered about the figure in the park and the other incidents since she’d been in the asylum. “You were right,” she admitted. “My gift has changed. It’s different now.”
Jonas whistled between his teeth when she told him about the vision she’d had of the fire and her subsequent discovery of the girl’s death.
“I don’t know how I would have stood it if Elizabeth hadn’t been there.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He covered her hand with his. “You couldn’t have done anything.”
“Maybe not, but I should have tried.”
“Let it go. It’s done, and you can’t change it. I need you focused. We’ve got to figure out how to get you out of here. A husband or another relative might be able to claim you, if you had one. I might have been able to mock up some kind of paperwork they’d accept, given some time, but—”
“But you can’t play the part, since you’re known here now.” Amelia shrugged. “So we need someone else.”
Jonas nodded, and she grimaced, thinking of their limited—and disreputable—circle of acquaintance. Except for Tommy, who obviously couldn’t do it, there wasn’t a one of them she’d trust to handle something like this.
Hating the notion, but having no better idea, she took a breath. “I don’t suppose Sidney would—”
Jonas interrupted. “He’s in Europe. He left a week or so after you disappeared.”
Amelia gaped at him. Sidney had waited until she’d disappeared, and then up and left Jonas worried and alone? Outrage stabbed through her. She’d known he was no good, had wished to be rid of him. But like this? How dare he? Damn the man.
Jonas went on. “I have a couple of ideas, but I can’t see how to make any of them work just yet. If we had someone here we could trust, then maybe.”
Cavanaugh’s face flashed through Amelia’s mind. She dismissed the thought with a shake of her head. “I think it’s just us.”
Jonas’s voice was determined. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve always managed before. We can do it again. Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something.”
Amelia stood and followed him to the door, the blanket wrapped around her. A pungent odor hung in the air, out of place among the mingled scents of lye and old soup and half-rinsed chamber pots.
She finally placed it. “That’s how you got into the cell without waking me.” She swung the door a few silent inches. “You oiled the hinges.”
Jonas patted one of his pockets. “I palmed a syringe a while back. I filled it that night, and I’ve been carrying it ever since.”
Amelia smiled. The expression felt foreign after so long. “And the lock? Did you palm a key as well?”
“Please,” he said in mock offense. “If I couldn’t pick a lock like this, I ought to be ashamed of myself. I’m surprised you haven’t done it.”
She indicated her raggedly cropped hair with a wry gesture. “A shortage of hairpins. And besides,” she went on, as the humor leaked away, “without somewhere to go, there was no point.”
They both went silent. A moment later, Jonas drew her into a crushing hug. “I was so worried,” he said into the top of her head. “I thought…”
Amelia clung to him, blinking back tears.
With a final squeeze he let go and turned to leave.
“Jonas?” Her voice quavered.
He turned back.
“I have to—” She stopped, then continued in a rush. “I’m so sorry for what I said. That day. All of it. I never meant to—”
He raised a hand. “I know. I forgive you. I’ll come back as soon as I can. Don’t worry. I’m here.”
He squeezed her shoulder once, then left as he’d entered, closing the door and relocking it behind him. He padded back down the hallway and melted into the shadows.
Amelia crept back to her cot. She closed her eyes and lay buoyant in the dark, tears of joy and relief sliding from beneath her lids and trailing unchecked down the sides of her face.