The Twisted Tragedy of Miss Natalie Stewart Read Online Free Page A

But—”
    “Oh, don’t worry, he’s quite whole now. But that’s not our department. We must stay focused on our goals.”
    I sipped my tea with dawning horror. Not only was this doctor involved with whoever had cursed Jonathon, but he assumed Jonathon was still possessed. Was Samuel next?
    “Your associates didn’t hurt him, though?” Samuel said sharply. “You promised me our aim was to help the suffering, those in loss, those between life and death…like Elsa…”
    “Of course,” Preston assured quietly. “At least, that’s what I was promised too. I’m doing this for my Laura, Samuel.”
    The two men nodded. I felt pain hang heavily in the air like humidity before the release of a storm. Doing what ? And what poor women were at the heart of this?
    “In our gilded age,” Preston added, “with medicine, surgery, and physiology, it’s all a thrilling frontier, and we must be at the fore. Everything is new, and we must seize the day.”
    He sounded like an avid student—possibly delusional.
    Jonathon returned. I jumped up to fix him tea from the tray, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I hoped my very wide eyes as I handed him the cup signaled to take care, willing him to see that he had to play the demon. But something told me that, from the moment he’d seen Preston in the hall, he’d already known that. Had they met?
    There was a strained silence as we sat, and I had to remember I couldn’t turn to whoever spoke first. I could only read lips. Samuel broke the silence with a sigh.
    “It’s just so bloody good to see you,” Samuel said to Jonathon. “When Nat wrote you’d died…after your family…I’m so sorry—”
    Jonathon waved his hand as if it were nothing. But I read the flicker of the muscle on his neck, the subtle clench of his jaw, the tightening of his chest that kept in the grief he’d not yet been allowed to process.
    “I’m sorry we lost touch,” Samuel continued. “I returned to the States to learn my family was moving west. So were the Wells. And you know, wherever my Elsa would go, I must follow…”
    “Ah, yes, true love,” Jonathon said with an edge. Preston’s eyes hardened.
    Samuel looked up at a portrait of a lovely woman over the mantel. “We were supposed to be married this year. But she’s slipping away. Comatose. None of the doctors understand…” Samuel clenched his fist on the arm of his chair. “ I don’t understand, and I’m supposed to be gifted—”
    “Being exceptional only gets you so far, my friend,” Preston said in that same voice just above a whisper that somehow the whole room could hear. “And even the most skilled physicians in the world cannot keep our loved ones from the grave.”
    Jonathon’s cup rattled slightly. I imagined he had a lot to say about loss but couldn’t. We had to play nice. Complicit. It was sickening.
    So Samuel was losing Elsa, and Preston had lost a Laura, but what did that have to do with splitting soul from body? Would they seek to put their love’s souls into other bodies? Was that the bait that lured gifted doctors?
    “What news from the home front?” Preston asked Jonathon. “And the New York branch? Settled into their offices?”
    Jonathon chuckled low, a sound I didn’t like. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t been in touch. I’m in a brave new world, and I wanted to…explore New York to the fullest. I came west to…cool my heels. I was attracting attention I don’t think is proper at this stage.”
    Samuel looked at Jonathon with concern. Preston only looked at him blankly.
    “I know nothing about the wings of experimentation by the Master’s Society,” Preston replied. “Other than mine. But if you’re in touch with the London office, tell them that while my work may be slow, it’s sure. I won’t be pressured for results. I don’t want my careful work destroyed.” Preston turned to Samuel. “They seem to forget sometimes that we’re only human. Don’t you forget