“I suppose this works,” Sebastian said weakly.
Other passengers were looking their way. “It’s the Viscount Fine,” Wesley said, still loud, knocking again. “May I have a word?”
There was a sound from behind the door. And then, finally, it opened perhaps eight inches.
“May I help you, Lord Fine?” Dr. Wright said, his tone as chilled as the weather. He was still wearing his hat, pulled so low it hid his hair. His beard seemed even thicker up close, his glasses even larger than Rory’s.
“Dr. Wright, finally,” Wesley said, in his best entitled-arsehole voice. “I simply must speak with you. Lady Nora said you’re a doctor of nerves?”
“I’m not taking new patients at this time.”
“Wait—you think I want to speak with you aboutmyself?” Wesley said, with real affront. “I haven’t had nerves a day in my life.”
Behind the glasses, blue eyes narrowed. “Your attitude is exactly why my patients struggle.” Dr. Wright began closing the door.
“Wait,” Sebastian said. “We wanted to talk to you about a patient you may have treated—”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you. Good day, gentlemen.” Dr. Wright firmly shut the door.
Wesley and Sebastian looked at each other. “I don’t think he wants to talk to us,” Sebastian said.
“We were just summarily told to fuck off, yes.” Wesley turned and began to knock on the door again. “Dr. Wright?”
The door cracked open again. “Gentlemen,” Dr. Wright started, “I’ve already told you—”
Wesley shouldered past him and strode right into the room.
“Lord Fine,” Dr. Wright sputtered. “This is most irregular—”
“Were you the one who gave the seasickness pills to Lady Nora?” Wesley was already scanning the room. It had a similar layout to his own: a small space with a sink, a desk, and a single bed. There was a trunk on the floor and a large leather bag on the writing desk. “They were exactly what I needed; have you got any more?”
“What?” Dr. Wright said blankly. “I didn’t give her any pills—”
“You must forgive Lord Fine, he’s been ill,” Sebastian said, behind Wesley. “He’s not quite himself; I think he may have a fever. Do you have aspirin?”
“Obviously, in my medical bag.” Dr. Wright’s voice was quite sharp. “But you should call the ship’s doctor—”
“I’m sure I won’t stand for that.” Wesley strode forward to the desk and opened the leather bag. Inside was an assortment of medical supplies, gauze and scissors, headache powders and tonics, American brands one would find on the shelves of American pharmacies.
He grabbed the aspirin and a handful of other things out of the bag. “Thank you, Doctor,” he said, tucking the items in his jacket pocket as he crossed back across the room. “Don Sebastian, I wish to return to my stateroom.”
“I’ll take him to the ship’s doctor,” he heard Sebastian promise. “Right now. Thank you for your patience, Dr. Wright.”
“Just go,” Dr. Wright said, sounding dark and disgruntled.
They strode into the hall, and Dr. Wright all but slammed the door behind them.
“That was bold,” Sebastian said to Wesley, in an admiring tone.
“He hardly left us much choice,” Wesley said. “He was quite curt for a doctor, did you notice? You’ll likely think me insufferably entitled, but I don’t expect the Harley Street lot to address me in that tone.”
“Do you usually barge in and raid their medical bags?”
Wesley’s lips twitched. “Fair enough. I’ll say again that something about him feels familiar, although I’ll be damned if I can think where I might have seen him.” He held out what he’d grabbed from Dr. Wright’s bag—aspirin, gauze, and a bottle of vitamin tonic. “Come on. Let’s see if Brodigan can scry anything from these.”
* * *
Wesley and Sebastian skipped the first-class dinner, instead joining Arthur and Rory in the second-class dining hall. Wesley gave Rory the items, and they kept guard while he scried, running his hands over each item in turn.
