Home > The Madman's Daughter (The Madman's Daughter #1)(41)

The Madman's Daughter (The Madman's Daughter #1)(41)
Author: Megan Shepherd

“Just a small infection. From the ship.”

“Have you been taking your treatment?” His lips pursed. “You haven’t missed a day, have you?”

I pressed my other hand to my forehead. Suddenly every sound in the room was magnified like a loudspeaker at the races. Alice clearing the table. Edward’s quick breaths. The scaly man whispering to Balthasar.

“I’m fine!” I cried. I wrenched my arm back. “I’m fine. I just need some rest.”

Father glanced at the clock above the mantel. “Midnight. I’ve kept you up.”

“It’s all right, I’m just tired,” I said. I tried to stand, but my legs were weak.

“Someone help her to her room,” Father said.

Edward and Montgomery were suddenly both by my side, each taking an arm.

My face burned as I looked between them. Two boys, two sets of hands on my wrists. One rough and calloused, the other strong yet smooth. My emotions knotted tighter, threatening to cut off my circulation.

“You take her, Prince,” Father said. There was an odd tone to his voice that made me think of how he wanted me to get to know Edward better. Edward seemed pleased enough to escort me, but Montgomery squeezed my wrist harder. Not wanting to let Edward have me.

“Father, won’t you take me?” I asked, trying to keep things peaceful. “Like old times.”

Father grunted, but helped me stand. I leaned on his arm, overpowered by the chemical smell coming off of his jacket. Had he been in the laboratory before supper? I hadn’t noticed the smell earlier. I looked closer. Three thick black hairs glistened on his collar. I realized I hadn’t seen the panther or the monkey or any of the animals since arriving.

What had he done with them?

Father escorted me into the courtyard, where the night air cooled my cheeks. The chickens were gone, roosting in some cool, dark corner. The footfalls of our boots echoed through the portico, the only sound of humanity among the trilling, whispering jungle sounds.

Maybe I should have felt out of place so distant from the noisy streets of London. But there was a serenity here, as though I had crossed the threshold into a place both familiar and novel. This gray-haired man wasn’t a stranger. He was my father.

He stopped outside my door and patted my hand—the one with Mother’s ring—as if the scandal had never happened. And it hadn’t, I reminded myself. It had only been rumors.

“I hope you don’t regret coming,” he said. “I don’t know what you thought you would find, but I realize an old Spanish fort and an old wrinkled man are probably a disappointment.”

“I’m not disappointed.” I laid my hand on top of his, squeezing before turning to my room and the odd door latch.

“Oh, and Juliet,” he said. I turned back. Half of his face was thrown in deep shadow, while the whites of his teeth gleamed in the distant lights from the salon. “I’ll be working in the laboratory late tonight. I’ve a good start on the new specimens. Don’t be alarmed if you’re awoken. The animals—they scream, you know. An unfortunate effect of vivisection. It keeps the whole household up.”

For a breath, the world seemed to freeze. And then the clouds rolled again, the wind howled again. I realized that he had charmed me, just like he charmed everyone. I’d thought I was so clever. I thought I could see past his manipulations. But I’d only heard what I wanted to.

He’d never said the accusations were untrue. Only unfair.

Eighteen

THE NOISES STARTED SOMETIME in the night, during the hour when the moon was at its highest. Not screams, exactly. More like moans. Howls. Sounds I couldn’t put a name to. I lay in bed, wide awake, staring at the odd shapes the moonlight threw against the whitewashed walls. I couldn’t tell what type of creature he was working on in that blood-red, windowless laboratory. I’d heard the panther make all types of howls and cries on the ship, but nothing like what came from that building.

Whatever it was, it was large.

Tears pooled in the hollows of my eyes. I wiped them away angrily. All I could think was that I’d gotten what I wanted—answers. Why should I be surprised? Hadn’t I suspected the rumors were true, somewhere deep in the creases of my mind? And what about all the other strange things happening—the islander dying, Balthasar showing up at the picnic with rifles? Father had lied to me about everything.

The angrier I got, the more thorny memories began to surface, like drowned bodies rising to the water’s edge. I remembered his voice calling to Crusoe, here, boy, there’s a good dog, and the laboratory door locking shut with a quick, dull click. I remember how the servants’ eyes were bloodshot and sunken on the mornings after he’d operated. The screaming kept them awake, too. But none of us ever spoke of it. Least of all Montgomery.

Thinking of Montgomery made my hands twist at the sheets. He’d spent half his life on the island. He must have known of my father’s guilt. Why hadn’t he told me? And then I remembered how he’d tried to talk me out of coming. He’d warned me without putting it into so many words. But I’d insisted. I said I’d have to sell myself on the streets if he didn’t take me with him.

But was this any better? This terrible, anguished truth?

A painful bellow tore through the night. I kicked the sheets off, sweat pouring down my neck. Was it the sheepdog? I didn’t know any creature that could make such an ungodly sound. As the screams dragged on, haunting my every breath, my mind started to wander to darker and darker places. Wondering what would cause an animal to scream like that. Imagining the beast spread out, shackled down, dotted lines traced on its skin in black ink. And why? What purpose did Father have for such wanton cruelty? He was beyond dissecting for knowledge’s sake. He already knew every corpuscle, every bend of nerve. No, he wasn’t studying. He was working on something new. Something different.

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