Silas seemed to understand.
He was patient.
Sometimes almost painfully so.
He could ride across a freezing pasture without hesitation, confront an angry bull, or repair a damaged fence in a storm.
But when Eleanor touched his cheek, he became strangely uncertain.
She found that tenderness both surprising and beautiful.
Now she rose onto her toes and kissed him.
Briefly.
Softly.
Silas froze.
When she drew back, his eyes remained closed for a heartbeat.
Then he opened them.
Eleanor smiled.
"Be careful."
He swallowed.
"I will."
He looked toward her lips.
For a moment, she thought he might kiss her again.
Instead, he smiled awkwardly.
Then pulled on his gloves and went outside.
Eleanor watched him cross the yard through the snow.
She rested one hand against the window.
And wondered how a man so comfortable with danger could become so frightened of happiness.
The former nurse from Brookmere House was named Marian Bellamy.
She was forty-five, unmarried, and had worked in private medical establishments for more than fifteen years.
Her written statement reached Edwin Shaw shortly before Christmas.
It was detailed.
Careful.
And deeply troubling.
Marian described Beatrice Carrington as an intelligent, coherent woman who understood her circumstances and repeatedly requested contact with her sister.
She said Beatrice had been kept under restrictive conditions and discouraged from receiving independent visitors.
Several letters she attempted to send were never delivered.
According to Marian, Dr. Augustus Felton treated Beatrice's objections to confinement as evidence of illness rather than reasons for reviewing her situation.
Marian had not witnessed every financial arrangement.
She couldn't prove that all diagnoses were knowingly false.
But she could describe specific occasions when Beatrice appeared rational, when access to visitors was denied, and when instructions concerning her correspondence seemed inconsistent with ordinary medical care.
She also recalled Edmund Carrington visiting Dr. Felton privately shortly before Beatrice was transferred to a more isolated section of the institution.
Marian resigned several months later.
She had become increasingly uncomfortable with the treatment of patients whose relatives controlled their finances.
After leaving, she attempted to contact Lydia Hale.
For weeks, she received no answer.
Only later did she learn that several of her letters may not have reached their intended recipients.
When Edwin Shaw's inquiry arrived through independent counsel, Marian agreed to provide information under appropriate conditions.
Eleanor read the statement slowly.
Her face became pale.
Silas sat beside her.
For several minutes, she said nothing.
Then she looked up.
"She's been asking for her sister."
Silas nodded.
Eleanor's eyes filled.
"All this time."
He looked toward the page.
For a moment, his expression hardened.
Then he asked, "Can Lydia reach her now?"
"Shaw says the Massachusetts lawyer is seeking access through the proper process."
Silas considered that.
"Good."
Eleanor shook her head.
"But what if Edmund moves her?"
He looked toward her.
"We should tell Shaw you're worried about that."