Alice was a fumbling mess with her new foot.

After two days of bed rest, Booker suggested she attempt to walk. So, with the assistance of Henry and some drugs to ease the pain, she gripped the bedpost, rose slowly to her feet—

And immediately fell back onto the bed with a gasp of pain.

Trinket had some sympathy as she watched, remembering how painful it had been to walk on her own injured leg. She plastered on a smile and offered words of encouragement to help the lady along.

However, after nearly three days of Alice sobbing about it being impossible and Henry protectively insisting she not push herself, Trinket found she was beginning to understand Booker's distaste for the couple.

"How's our patient doing?" Booker asked, poking his head through the door during one of her attempts to coax Alice out of bed and onto her feet.

"Awful," Alice cried. "I swear I'll never walk again!"

Collapsing onto the mattress, she burst into tears for the fourth time that day. Henry flew to her side, wrapping her up in a tight embrace and drawing her close to himself. "There, there, darling. Don't do it if you're not up to it."

Trinket clenched her teeth and met Booker's gaze. Her blood boiled as the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "Making great progress, I see," he said.

"We're doing our best," she said, turning back to the pathetic couple.

"Well, I don't mean to interrupt. Just wanted to check in and see if there was anything I could do."

"You could stay and assist us. I'm sure your expertise as a doctor would do Alice a world of good."

"I'm certain it would, but unfortunately, I'm up to my ears in backlogged work. So sorry. But perhaps I could offer some more pain medication?"

"Yes," Alice said quickly, lifting her tear-stained face to him. "Yes, that would be most appreciated."

Trinket shot Booker an annoyed glare, but he simply shrugged his shoulders and responded, "I'll be up with some in a moment."

"Alice, you can't just keep numbing the pain," she said as he disappeared.

"You don't understand how much it hurts," Alice snapped.

"You'd be surprised."

"Pardon?"

Sighing, Trinket sat beside the pampered lovers. "Every time you take drugs for the pain, you become less motivated. You can barely carry on a proper conversation when medicated, never mind walk."

"We've started too early," Henry argued. "She needs more time to heal. It's too soon, and we're likely doing more damage trying to get her to walk on it now."

"Her doctor thinks otherwise."

Alice's lower lip began to tremble, and she buried her face in Henry's shoulder before breaking into another fit of hysterics.

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from losing control of her tongue, Trinket rose from the bed. "Perhaps that's enough for today. We'll try again tomorrow."

Neither one of them responded, both too wrapped up in their shared sorrow.

Heaving another sigh, she stormed into the hallway and down the stairs to make a cup of tea to settle her nerves.

~

Alice refused to even leave her bed the following day. Henry, normally so docile and agreeable, stubbornly took his paramour's side, insisting that Trinket was being unreasonable in expecting his beloved to regain her strength in so short a period of time.

No longer able to restrain her temper in their presence, Trinket excused herself and sought refuge in her room. Throwing herself onto her bed, she smothered a frustrated scream with one of her pillows, much to the entertainment of the voices.

Pathetic.

Ridiculous.

Failure.

No, she was not the failure. Alice and Henry were. How long did they think they could explain their absence to Alice's family? Sooner or later, her father or husband would come looking for her. It was like the couple had forgotten how time-sensitive this whole situation was.

She lifted her face from the pillow and raised her eyebrows thoughtfully. Perhaps someone needed to remind them of the precarious position they were in.

Sitting up on her knees, she took a deep breath and straightened herself out before making her way back to the guest room where Henry was cradling Alice in his arms and reciting what sounded like poetry.

"I don't wish to upset either of you," she said firmly, "but I must remind you that this is not an inn."

Alice furrowed her brow. "What do you—"

"This is a house. Mr. Larkin's house, in fact. And while he was willing to put you up before the surgery, this cannot be a permanent residence for you."

Henry blinked away his surprise. "Oh, no, we didn't intend—"

"And you can only return home if you learn how to walk on that foot. I know it will take time and effort, but I'm afraid if you don't make some progress soon, we'll have to write to your family and have them come to retrieve you."

Alice's face fell. "What?"

Trinket shrugged. "I don't know what other option there is. Clearly you are not thriving under Mr. Larkin's care. Perhaps you'd do better with your regular doctor. I'm sure he could tend to you quite well, what with him being your father and all.

"I . . . but he . . . I didn't . . ."

"I guess I should let Mr. Larkin know he ought to begin drafting that letter."

Still unable to voice a proper thought, Alice looked to Henry, but he was just as dumbfounded.

"Anyhow, if you'll excuse me."

With a quick nod, Trinket slipped out the door and closed it behind her. Leaning against it, she shut her eyes and let out a slow breath. Perhaps her threats would light a fire under them.

"That was very clever."

Her eyes shot open, and she practically jumped out of her skin upon discovering Booker beside her, a playful grin on his lips. She clutched her chest and glared at him as he chuckled under his breath.

"It is terribly impolite to sneak up on somebody and nearly scare the life out of them," she scolded. "And even worse to laugh at them afterwards."

"My apologies."

Pushing herself away from the door, she brushed past him and headed towards the stairs. "What you should really be apologizing for is leaving me alone with those two."

"Oh?" he said as he followed after her. "And here I thought you liked them."

"I never said I liked them."

"You defended them like you did."

"I was only being polite."

"A terrible habit."

They stopped in the foyer, and she turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Does that mean you'll actually throw them out if they don't leave soon?"

He leaned in towards her. "We'll just have to see, won't we?"

With an infuriating grin, he swept by her and made his way down to the laboratory.

Clenching her fists, she let out another exasperated breath and stormed off to the kitchen to start dinner.

~

With great reluctance, Trinket trudged back upstairs with two bowls of stew for the uncooperative couple. She chewed on her lip as she stood in front of their door. Perhaps she could just leave it on the floor so she wouldn't have to speak with them? No, that would be rude. She wasn't quite at Booker's level yet.

Stifling a groan, she finally gave a light knock.

"One second, please!"

Alice's normally melodic voice was now grating to her ears. Were they really this annoying, or was it simply the situation that made them so obnoxious?

After a long moment, the door creaked open. Trinket raised her eyebrows as she was greeted by both Henry and Alice. The latter was leaning on the former for support, but she was standing all the same.

"You're up and about, I see," Trinket said.

Her cheeks pink from exertion, Alice nodded enthusiastically. "We've been at it all day."

"She was even able to take a turn about the room all on her own," Henry added with just as much triumph as his sweetheart.

"I'm rather clumsy and slow-moving, but I think it's progress. Wouldn't you say, Miss Trinket?"

"It's progress, yes, but I wouldn't declare it a complete success. You still need to be able to get down the stairs in order to go home."

Alice nodded, her expression determined. "Right. Of course. Well, perhaps tomorrow we can try that."

"Yes, she's been working so hard, Miss Trinket," Henry said. "Could she rest for the remainder of the night?"

They gazed at her pleadingly, and she couldn't resist a soft albeit tired smile. "I suppose that would be fine. Besides, I wouldn't want your dinner to get cold. Shall I help you back into bed?"

"Oh, no, I can do it," Alice said. "Watch."

With childlike pride and excitement, Alice hobbled over to the bed on her own. Henry hovered nearby, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to sweep his beloved up into his arms and carry her wherever she pleased. However, he commendably stood aside, even as his fingers and eyes twitched.

Trinket let out a short sigh.

It was going to be a long night.

~

Booker surprisingly joined her for dinner once she was finished with their guests. They sat together in the dining room and enjoyed some of the potato stew she'd prepared.

"You're definitely getting better at cooking," Booker said as he swallowed another spoonful. "This one's barely overcooked."

"You can criticize my cooking as soon as you start tending to your own patients, Mr. Larkin."

"How are the obnoxious lovebirds? Do I need to begin writing that letter?"

"Actually, they made quite a bit of progress today. She's going to try tackling the stairs tomorrow."

"Good. The sooner they're out of my hair, the better."

"What, you don't enjoy the company?"

He gave a snort in response.

"You like being alone, don't you?" she asked.

"Not so much alone as I only want to be with the right sort of people. Most people are not the right sort."

She nodded. "I can understand that."

He laid down his spoon and met her eyes. "Can you?"

"Having to hide my condition from others gets rather exhausting after a while. It's why I've always tended to avoid people altogether. I'm too worried about slipping up to risk getting close to anyone. But now that I've found the 'right sort' of person, I'm realizing that having company isn't so bad."

A grin spread across his face. "Was that almost a compliment, my dear?"

"If you feel being called good company by an escaped asylum patient is a compliment, then I suppose it was."

He chuckled softly to himself and stirred his stew. "Yes, well, I find that you're the 'right sort' of company myself. And that was a compliment, just to be clear."

"I'm glad to hear you're not ready to ship me back to Elysium yet."

"Lord, I'd be a fool to do such a thing."

She paused and swallowed the spoonful of stew in her mouth. "A fool?"

"What else would I be for sacking the only decent maid I've ever had? Not to mention I'd be losing a trustworthy assistant. No, I intend to keep you for as long as you're willing to stay."

A rush of warmth spread through her veins, and she ducked her head down for fear the color would show in her cheeks. Trustworthy? He really thought her trustworthy? And someone worth keeping? Even after the arguments and mishaps?

Her eyes flickered back to her employer. Seeming to sense her attention, he glanced up and offered a soft smile.

She returned it with one of her own. "I'll stay. For now, I suppose."

They shared another grin and continued on with their meal in comfortable silence.

~

Alice put her all into conquering the stairs the next day. Trinket and Henry stood by to assist if need be, but she impressively maneuvered each step without their help.

It was fascinating to see Booker's creation in action. Just as he'd promised, it acted like a real flesh and bone foot would. The added weight tripped Alice up a bit, but the prosthetic moved gracefully, as though it had always been a part of her.

"She's doing rather well," Booker murmured to Trinket as he watched from the foyer.

She nodded and turned her attention back to the couple descending the stairs. "It seems fear of discovery is a good motivator."

Alice stepped down too hard on the last stair and let out a sharp hiss of pain. Henry quickly caught her arm to keep her from collapsing to the floor.

Wincing slightly, Trinket added, "But the pain is a bit of an issue."

"I can always send her home with some anaesthetic to help with that until she's fully healed."

"Is that really wise?"

He glanced down at her and raised his eyebrows. "Not all drugs are bad, my dear. And in my profession, they're rather necessary."

She released a sigh. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"Ah, those words are music to my ears. Anyhow, I think we've tortured them long enough tonight. Perhaps we should have them sit down to some hearty, not-quite-burnt potato stew?"

Casting him a withering glare, she asked, "And will you be joining us, Mr. Larkin?"

"Well, I believe I have something important to do in the—"

"You wouldn't want your guests to think you're rudely avoiding them, would you?"

"I'm honestly not that concerned about it."

"And you wouldn't want to abandon your long-suffering assistant to the happy couple, right?"

He met her gaze and grimaced. "Of course I wouldn't."

She gave a triumphant smile. "I didn't think so."

Beckoning Henry and Alice into the dining room, Trinket offered them some tea and then left them to Booker's care while she went about putting the finishing touches on dinner. When she returned with the stew, she found Booker sporting a stiff smile as he attempted small talk with his patient.

"Frankly, I know very little about silk stockings," he said, drumming his fingers on the table. "But I've yet to receive any complaints that one of my prosthetics did not fit into them, so I think you'll be safe."

"Oh good," Alice said with a sigh of relief. "I simply adore silk stockings. I have quite the collection, and I'd be terribly distraught if I couldn't keep them."

"You're not the only one who would mourn their loss," Henry added suggestively.

Alice toyed with one of his curls. "Oh, I know that. You may enjoy them on me more than I do."

Booker swallowed convulsively at the blatant display of affection. Fearing he might ruin the tablecloth if the two went on with their lover's act, Trinket cleared her throat and set the bowls of stew in front of their guests. "Sorry it took so long," she said.

"Oh no, it's perfectly fine," Alice said, pulling herself away from her beloved's gaze and turning to her meal. "This looks lovely, Miss Trinket."

Trinket took a seat beside Booker. "Oh, I'm certain you're accustomed to far better food at home."

"Speaking of which," Booker interrupted, "I'm sure you're both eager to return home."

"Oh, yes, it will be nice to return to what's familiar," Alice said. "Not that we don't appreciate all you've done for us here. You've truly gone out of your way to make us comfortable in our time of need."

"We're just happy to see you healing so well," Trinket said before Booker could say anything rude.

"So tell me," he continued nonetheless, "when you say 'home,' which home are you referring to? The one with 'Helen' in Noxbury or the one with your husband in Dufferford?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. Why did she even try?

"Well, we wrote a letter to Alice's husband explaining that she was having such a splendid visit with Helen that she was extending her stay," Henry said uncomfortably. "By the time we head back, he'll be expecting her. So she'll be returning to her husband's estate."

"Really?" Booker turned to Alice. "Tell me, what does your husband do? I'm sure he has no need for work, but while you're off canoodling with 'Helen,' how does he entertain himself?"

Alice fidgeted with her napkin, careful to avoid making eye contact with anyone at the table. "Ah, well, he's very fond of playing cards. When we go to social events, he can usually be found in a smoky card room with a cigar hanging out of his mouth."

"A gentleman of many vices," Henry mumbled.

Booker flashed him an icy smile. "I suppose we all have our vices, don't we, old chap?"

"Do you play cards, Mr. Larkin?" Alice asked, clearly desperate to steer the conversation away from the subject of her husband.

"I do. It's a needed skill when you associate with thugs and the like."

Drawing her brows together, she repeated, "Thugs?"

"Yes, you know, thieves, con men, the occasional murderer. Our game nights attract all sorts of criminals."

"Is that really safe?" Henry asked.

"Likely not, but I'm a true gambler."

"I can't even imagine associating with such fiends."

"'Fiend' is such a harsh word. Then again, so is adul—"

"Henry, what do you do in your spare time?" Trinket interrupted, eager to keep the meal as friendly as possible.

"Me? Oh, well, I mostly read."

"What do you read?"

"A little of everything, but I'm particularly partial to poetry."

Alice clasped her hands and gazed up at him adoringly. "He's quite the poet. You should hear the beautiful sonnets he's penned:

'Oh, to count the hairs upon your head

And trace the lines that grace your hand

As here we lie embraced in bed

Lost to all in lover's land.'"

Trinket furrowed her brow, unsure of how to react. Based on his sheepish smile, Henry was rather proud of his sappy verses. She wasn't much for poetry or reading in general, so she certainly wasn't in any position to judge. Booker, however, made his feelings very clear as he gagged into his napkin.

"His poems just fill me with this . . . this . . ." Alice trailed off, her cheeks flushing as she gazed longingly at Henry.

"Yes, yes, we all know what they fill you with," Booker mumbled.

"It was lovely," Trinket said, forcing a smile.

"He's truly talented," Alice sighed.

"Tell me, Henry," Booker said, his eyes on his stew as he stirred it thoughtfully, "how long have you lived in Dufferford?"

Tearing his attention away from his sweetheart, Henry cleared his throat and replied, "Only a few years."

"I grew up there, though," Alice added.

Booker raised an eyebrow and considered her for a moment. "So I imagine you know quite a few of the families there."

"I do. There have been some newcomers here and there, but I always make an effort to get to know everyone."

"Her social skills are something to marvel at," Henry said with a smile.

She returned it with one of her own.

"Yes, you two are something to marvel at, aren't you?" Booker said.

His sarcasm was lost on the couple who were so engrossed in each other that it seemed they'd forgotten there were even other people in the room.

Booker turned to Trinket and rolled his eyes. She shook her head and fought back a sympathetic smile before returning to her meal.

~

"Quite the twitchy couple, aren't they?" Booker said, lingering in the kitchen after dinner.

"Well, you did keep bringing up her husband," Trinket said while wiping down the table. "I imagine that would be a sore subject for a couple having an illicit affair."

He scoffed as he searched through the dresser, examining its contents with something like perplexion. "They'll get found out if they keep it up."

"Are you concerned about them?"

He moved on to the larder, sticking his head inside and coming back out with a sack of flour. "That they'll never leave my house? Yes. Very."

She set her rag aside and cocked her head as he returned the flour to its shelf. "Can I help you find something?"

"No, it's just so," he shut the door and glanced around the room as if he were lost, "full."

"Aren't kitchens supposed to be full?"

"Other people's kitchens, perhaps. But mine never has been."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you disapprove?"

"No, no. I'm only making an observation."

Holding back a laugh, she resumed her cleaning as he strolled about the room.

"Lord, it feels like we haven't gone out in ages," he complained. "How many days have they been here?"

She shrugged. "I'd say at least a week."

He leaned against the table and sighed. "An entire week lost thanks to those two. I'll have to search Gin out, have her catch me up on everything I missed."

"I'm sure if something important had happened, she would've come to let you know."

"I suppose."

"Well, they should be gone soon, and then you can return to hunting the Wolf."

"Yes, the Wolf. Hopefully some of my leads will have gotten back to me by the time our lovely guests have taken their leave."

"What leads do you have?"

He pushed himself away from the table and flashed her a smile as he brushed past her on his way out the door. "Oh, I have eyes and ears all over this city, my dear."

~

A long, agonizing day later, Trinket stood in the foyer and bid farewell to Alice while Booker spoke privately with Henry in the parlour.

"Thank you, Miss Trinket," Alice said, beaming up at her with overwhelming gratitude. "You have been a most excellent hostess."

Trinket gave a polite smile. "I wish you and Henry a safe journey."

"Thank you, thank you. And I wish you and Mr. Larkin well, too. You do a fine work here, really, you do."

"Well, we'd best be off," Henry announced as he and Booker joined them.

Alice gave Trinket another smile and took her beau's arm. "Again, I don't think we can thank you enough. You two are absolute angels."

Booker choked on what Trinket assumed was a laugh, but he quickly cleared his throat to cover it up. "It was our pleasure."

Trinket led the couple to the door, but Alice suddenly turned back to Booker. "If we have any issues, shall we—"

"I've already discussed the details with Henry. I believe he's more than capable of tweaking things here and there when needed. And if it's something beyond his ability, any tinker should be able to assist you."

Henry gave an uncertain smile but nodded all the same. "We'll manage, I'm sure."

"Of course you will. Come then, let us see you out."

Booker and Trinket followed the couple outside and helped them into the waiting coach.

"And remember," Booker said, leaning forward to catch Henry's gaze, "I'll be expecting my payment in a timely manner."

Face paling slightly, Henry gave a hurried nod. "Yes, yes, I won't forget."

Flashing him a wolfish grin, Booker shut the coach door and signaled to the driver up front. The horses took off, and as the vehicle disappeared up the road, he let out a long sigh.

"I thought they'd never leave," he said.

Trinket grinned teasingly. "I hope the payment will be well worth the effort you put into this whole debacle."

He glanced down at her thoughtfully. "As do I."

"Where in the bloody world have you been?"

They turned to find Gin shouting from across the street. She scurried over to them, practically tripping over her own feet in her rush. By the time she reached them, she was panting and fanning herself with her hat.

"I had some rather time-consuming clients," Booker said. "Just saw them off now. Why? What did I miss?"

She gave a bark of a laugh. "What did you miss? Boy, the things you missed."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense."

Straightening up, she took a deep breath. "Well first off, some woman was found dead by the Clocktower."

"This is Tinkerfall. That's really nothing extraordinary."

"Looked like she'd been sliced up with a knife."

Booker glanced at Trinket, and her stomach fluttered with unexpected excitement. Could it have been the Wolf?

"And the Wolf," Gin added.

Their attention snapped back to her. "What about the Wolf?" Booker asked.

"It got caught."

"Caught? By whom?"

"Who else? The Mice."