Page 164 of Rakes & Reticules
“She disappears each time I have a customer, then gets bored, I suppose, and returns. The last time I saw her, she was following a couple toward the canal.”
“Is that her?”
Dottie saw Violet approaching them at a run. “Yes, and she managed to stay clean. Miracles on a Sunday.”
The girl stopped just behind Dottie, clinging to her pelisse and peeking around at Sampson. In the distance a constable’s whistle blew, and the sound of pedestrians laughing floated on the slight breeze.
“Violet, this is Dr. Brooks.”
“Miss Violet, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Violet stared at him solemnly, and Dottie wondered what was going on in that little brain of hers.
“And yes, Iamenjoying this fine November day. Thank you for inquiring,” Sampson said with a grin, his dimples deepening as he tried to charm Violet. His questioning eyes looked to Dottie.
“I’m afraid she doesn’t speak. I’ve heard her laugh or hum along when I sing but never words.” Her arm went around the slim frame protectively. “I understand she’s capable, but something must have happened…”
“Fascinating—and tragic, of course.” He cocked his head, studying Violet. “I’ve heard of the phenomena with soldiers in battle. A traumatic incident that keeps them from speaking, some blocked memory too painful to remember.”
“Is there a cure?” Dottie realized she should have shared this information sooner. Sampson might be able to treat Violet.
“Time, usually.” He squatted down to Violet’s level. “You’re a lucky girl to have found Mrs. Brown.”
Violet nodded and clutched Dottie’s skirt more tightly.
Sampson stood and tousled the girl’s hair. “I’d like a dozen of everything you’ve brought.”
She chuckled and decided not to argue this time. When she handed him the package, he reached inside his greatcoat and pulled out his purse, dropping some coins into her hand. “Until Wednesday, Mrs. Brown.”
He tipped his hat and walked away, whistling some jaunty tune.
Violet stepped to the front of the cart and watched him leave. A small group approached from the opposite direction, catching Dottie’s attention while they considered what to buy, and when she looked around, the girl was gone again.
A few minutes later, another whistle blew, closer this time. A man’s shout, then a terrifying scream that sent a chill down Dottie’s back.
CHAPTERTEN
Dottie picked up her skirts and ran toward the commotion. Somehow, she knew it was Violet. Had she fallen into the canal? In the distance, she saw Sampson carrying the child, kicking and screaming. As he drew closer, a constable close behind, she could see Violet’s tear-streaked face.
“Maaaamaaaa!”
The breath left Dottie’s lungs. Sampson struggled to hold on to the girl, who was striking out at some invisible obstacle, fingers clawing at the air, her brown eyes glazed and unseeing.
Sampson stopped at the cart, leaning against a tree as he lowered himself and the hysterical girl to the ground. Dottie was on her knees in an instant, stroking her hair, murmuring soothing words. Violet’s flailings subsided. She leaned against Dottie’s chest, whimpering and clutching at her shoulders.
The constable stood over them, a stern look on his face. “What’s going on here?”
Sampson gently laid the child in Dottie’s lap and stood. “My name is Dr. Brooks. I’m afraid this child has had some kind of fit. I believe it’s over for now.”
The man’s bushy eyebrows came together as he stared at Dottie and the trembling girl. “Well, I s’pose you would know more about it than me. Do you need any help with the lass?”
“No, but I thank you.”
“Been a busy day. Four pockets picked today and now this.” The constable nodded. “Well, if you don’t need my help, I’ll be off. Good luck with the little one. Poor thing.”
Dottie rocked Violet, holding her close and trying not to cry. “What happened?”
“We’ll discuss it later. She may have remembered something.” He squatted down and brushed wet hair from the girl’s face. “I’ll get a hackney to take you both home, then find someone to bring your cart to the Clatterlys. Perhaps the boy who is holding Jack.”
