Chapter 17
Quincy darted around to the kitchen door, past the startled scullery maids, up the back stairs, and skidded to a halt on the rug outside Sinclair’s door. She reached up to adjust her spectacles, and realized she’d left them behind. Just as she debated whether to knock, the door swung open and Thompson stuck his head out.
“Oh good, you’ve come,” he said, and pulled her inside, quickly but silently shutting the door behind them.
“Quincy… No, Quincy…” Sinclair’s raspy voice died on a moan.
Forgetting Thompson, she strode to the bed. Sinclair lay tangled in the sheets, tossing his head back and forth on the pillow. She sat on the edge and caught his hands between her own.
“Been doing that for over an hour,” Thompson said, standing behind her. “Thought for sure he’d wake up Lady
