Chapter 7

ELIZABETH HAD BLOWN out the candle but had not managed to drift off to sleep. She found herself recounting her uncle’s occult journals. She loved his harsh, angled writing. She’d only glanced at the journals, for they brought out so much grief within her. Eventually, she would command her feelings enough to tackle the task. For now, she could only expose herself to the smallest of glimpses.

She would never allow anyone to take those books from her. She could promise herself that much. They were hers. Her uncle wished her to become an occultist. She did not believe she possessed the ability or talent to be as him, but he believed in her, and she wanted to try for the sake of his faith. She had always been interested in the occult. He was not asking anything odious of her. She would try.

It would have been easier if there was a society of ladies to join, however. Or, barring the challenges of geography, even women that she could correspond with on a regular basis. To Elizabeth’s knowledge, the only formal lady occult society existed in London, and it was nothing more than a collection of wives who did no study whatsoever. Their only connection to the occult was through their husbands’ membership in the Royal Occult Society.

Her uncle had told her there were pockets of women who studied in a much more informal and quiet manner than the Royal Occult Society’s general style. Three sisters in Dublin. An elderly woman in Edinburgh. A pocket of occultists just outside Paris. He had attempted to correspond with them, but most did not wish to give up their identities, or the identities of their fellow ladies. On occasion, he had gotten Elizabeth to write to young women for him, who were rumored to practice the occult. Alas, they had all been rumours, but she’d enjoyed the letters from new acquaintances. It had been thrilling for her to send, and then receive, letters that were of more business than news.

Doubt gnawed at her in the darkness. What if she wasn’t good enough? The Royal Occultists were educated men. Ancient languages. Sciences. Mathematics. What could her uncle possibly think she could offer the occult world that he could not? Why would he even think her father would allow her study? She was constantly being shipped off here and there, whenever her father wished to save a little money. Her room was small at home, and she did not trust her father with her books. Not after the Mary incident with the chair.

She knew Maria would take the books, but she hated to ask. Ditto her aunt. She longed for a place of her own. Why oh why couldn’t she have inherited the London house as opposed to David Leigh? Elizabeth chuckled, even as tears flowed down her cheeks. She wouldn’t have been allowed to live in the London house, even if she could have inherited it all. Even if it could have legally been entailed to her possession, which obviously it could not have been as a woman. No, she would have had to drag her entire family with her. Her problems would have followed her. Solving one problem would not have fixed them all.

At least her uncle provided her what money he could. She often worried that she would resort to becoming an unpaid governess at Mary’s house when her father died. Or, if something were to happen to Mary, too, then Elizabeth might end up being forced to become a governess to support herself. The money from Uncle Edward would be more than her potential salary; she would not need to work. The relief in her soul was immeasurable.

And, for all his strange ways, David Leigh’s book donation was turning out to provide a rather large sum of ready money. She did not know how to invest funds, nor how money was held in a bank. She would need her father or her brother to do that for her most likely.

It seemed to her that Mrs. Egerton might be right: lying was the only option. She could use the money to buy herself essentials. And perhaps a frivolous thing or two. She would love a new pair of good boots. She could hide it in several places. At Maria’s, for example. In her own books. In her reticule. In her private trunk. Even some at Aunt Cass’s.

The sound of a metal something clattering to the floor startled Elizabeth. She listened, but no one responded. She knew the servants were all working late tonight to prepare the main drawing room for booksellers; Aunt Cass did not want them wandering about her house with their muddy boots. It couldn’t have been the cat; Miss Puss Puss preferred to be down with the servants. Elizabeth hadn’t even seen the shy creature since arriving.

Footsteps. A door creaked opened. A moment later, it creaked closed. More footsteps. Elizabeth carefully pushed herself up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

House-breaking was a hanging offense. To break into a lady’s house, when there was no man at home, was such a vile violation of one’s home and safety. How would any of them feel safe again, with a stranger’s footfalls now coming outside her door. Her heart pounded in her chest. Were they to be murdered?

She thought to scream but feared that would only make the villain desperate. Instead, she pushed herself up from the bed. The bedposts creaked a little. The footsteps beyond stopped for a handful of heartbeats before beginning again.

She flung her shoe at him. Then she grabbed a book from her nightstand, aiming for his face. She did not recognize the intruder, but she could see his face plainly in the candlelight.

He was a dirty little child. No older than the twins, even taking into account his clear malnourishment. She stared at him, unable to figure out what to do next now that she was faced with a house-breaking child.

However, her appearance at the door startled the intruder. He threw his candle at her and ran away, back down the hallway from whence he came. The candle flame flicked to her nightgown. She shrieked in fear as the hem of the gown caught. Footsteps pounded from every direction in the house.

“Drop to the floor!” Mrs. Egerton shouted. “Roll! Miss Knight, you must roll to put out the flames!”

Panicked, Elizabeth attempted to follow Mrs. Egerton’s instructions. She rubbed her legs against the carpets. Something crashed against her, but she paid no heed to it. Her skin grew hot and angry. She could not stop her screams and sobs, as they mingled together until her voice went hoarse.

Something was beating against her legs, and it took a moment for her to realize it was John, one of the footmen who’d been helping move the crates of books earlier. He’d stripped off his jacket and was beating out the fire, all the while shouting for someone to fetch the apothecary, Aunt Cass, the night watch, and anyone else he could think of.

The heat subsided and he collapsed to her side. “Miss Knight, oh speak to me. Are you injured badly? What did that brigand do you? Are you hurt?”

Elizabeth was unable to speak or even to lift herself off the floor. She sobbed, exhausted by the strain of having nearly burned to death.

Mrs. Cook arrived and ordered candles. She inspected Elizabeth’s legs and then said, “My dear. It isn’t bad. The nightdress is ruined for sure now, but that is replaceable. You have cuts upon your feet and legs, but nothing serious. Hmm, you knocked over your water basin and table. Some blisters and burns, but they will fade.”

“You were very brave. You stood up to that fiend and got the fire out all yourself. What a good girl you are!” Mrs. Cook said, pride in her voice.

“She went next door, after you went to bed. She takes supper at Sir William’s house every Saturday. He had a card party. You were also invited, but she did not wish to disturb you. You’d been working so hard all day and looked so very tired after dinner. Sally’s gone to fetch her.”

Mrs. Cook stroked Elizabeth’s arm. “John! Fetch Miss Knight a glass of wine.”

Elizabeth heard the footman recount the incident. A thief broke into the house. He happened upon Miss Knight, and she had defended herself against the brigand. He threw his candle upon her, and she nearly burned to death.

Elizabeth began sobbing once more. She attempted to tuck her legs under her gown’s tattered hem for decency, but the dress was mostly missing from her knees down. However, the footman’s coat covered her bare legs and saved her dignity.

“Oh Elizabeth!” Aunt Cass exclaimed. She collapsed to the floor next to her niece and gathered her up into her arms. “My dear, sweet girl.”

“Mind the shards, ma’am!” John said. “We’ve not cleaned them up yet.”

Elizabeth managed to find enough strength to say, “I am well, Aunt. I am well.”

Sir William poked his head into the room. “Terrible business, Miss Knight! Terrible, indeed. Tell me, are those your shoes in the hallway?”

Sir William roared with laughter. “Good for you, Miss! You scared him off. He won’t be back! Fearful of his life, no doubt now!”

That caused Elizabeth to laugh, and she broke into sobbing laughter, unable to find the middle ground between her terror and the absolute ridiculousness of her fending off a house-breaker with nothing more than a pair of shoes!

Mrs. Cook, however, was having none of it. “Sir William! Miss Elizabeth could have burned to death.”

“A couple days in bed, Cook, and she’ll be fully recovered,” Sir William said, completely unbothered that one of the servants talked back to him.

Mrs. Cook gave Sir William a dubious look. “We’ll need a salve for these burns.”

“Your wine, Miss Knight,” Sally said, returning to the room. “Sir William’s butler has gone to alert the night watch. If we’re lucky, they might catch the intruder. James is gone for the apothecary. Mrs. Spencer, he said he will take a chair when closer to that part of town so that they may hurry back faster.”

“That’s only sensible,” Aunt Cass said. She lifted up the jacket to peer at Elizabeth’s legs. “I believe Sir William is right, my dear. A few days and the only proof of this happening will be itchy legs. We’ll soon be all right once more. Come, let’s get you back into bed. Sir William! Gentlemen, out of the room while we move my niece.”

Sir William and the male servants pointedly stepped out of the room and turned their backs, while her aunt, cook, and housemaid all moved Elizabeth into her bed. She pulled the blankets up over her burned legs.

“They hurt more than the injuries say they should,” Elizabeth said, staring down at her legs.

“Carpet burns from putting out the fire, I suspect,” Cook said. “How did you manage to think of putting out the fire yourself upon the carpet? You have a level head on you, girl.”

Elizabeth did not see the ghost book on her nightstand. Panic rose in her. “Forgive me, but I must check on one of my uncle’s books. I fear it might have been stolen. Sally, can you move the candle so I can see behind my stand?”

“Miss Elizabeth, they are only books,” Sir William said as he re-entered the room. “And it appears only the basin took damage.”

“Brandy. Don’t trouble, yourself, Mrs. Cook. I know where it is. Would you like me to send over Mrs. Reynolds to assist?”

Aunt Cass turned to her niece. “Elizabeth, do you mind if I step out? It will only be for a moment to arrange things with Sir William’s housekeeper. She is an excellent woman.”

With only Sally in the room now, as the others bustled about to do repairs, fetch brandy, and whatnot, Sally was able to relocate the book of autographs. It had fallen behind the bed, hidden in the shadows.

Elizabeth gingerly picked up the book of autographs. Whispering, she said, “I hope the brigand did not harm you.”

“It appears to be unharmed. Though, I will have to do an inventory in the morning once it is light. The fire was close to that stack of books in the corner. I’ll inspect everything in the morning.”

“I’m relieved, for your sake, miss. Mr. Edward Leigh was always a kind man to us girls. All the maids said so, and not just here. I don’t know how they’re all going to find work now, miss.”

“Are some of them unemployed?” Elizabeth asked. “Didn’t Mr. David Leigh take them?”

“He kept Mrs. Stout, Mary-Anne, and Jimmy, but that was it. He brought his own servants because he said Mr. Leigh’s old servants would just spy on him for the family.” Sally cleared her throat. “Sorry, miss. That’s only what I’d heard, on that last part.”

“The chambermaid has found work, yes, and the footman. Little Johnny Thatcher was hired by Sir William, but he was a casual worker so it wasn’t hard for him. Old Mrs. Taylor hasn’t found work. It’s not likely she will, I suppose. She’d worked for the family her entire life. Your uncle left her an annuity, at least, though. But I don’t think it’s enough for her to support herself and her niece.”

“Yes, miss. Her niece took ill and had to stop working. She used to work at the Royal Occult Society. She taught their daughters at the Society building itself. But when the coughing hit her, they hired another teacher. They’re just living off whatever money your uncle left them, and a little both of them had saved. That’s what I’ve heard from them.”

Elizabeth squared her shoulders. “Are you telling me that Mrs. Taylor, who must be seventy by now, has been kicked out from under my cousin’s protection and left to the wolves?”

“You certainly will not,” Elizabeth said harshly. “Where does Mrs. Taylor live now?”

At that point, there was bustling downstairs and Sally rushed off to lead Aunt Cass and Mrs. Reynolds up the stairs, insisting that Miss Elizabeth was mostly unharmed.

Sally closed the door, leaving Elizabeth alone with her aunt and Mrs. Reynolds. The woman inspected Elizabeth’s legs, nodding to herself as she poked and prodded.

“They aren’t too serious, you are correct, but I will still feel better if the apothecary can offer his own opinion on the matter,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “He might also have a salve to soothe the discomfort. If not, I can make one quite easily.”

Mrs. Reynolds talked with Aunt Cass for a few more minutes, offering to spend the night in Elizabeth’s room. Elizabeth insisted that was not necessary, as she did not wish to inconvenience the older woman in any capacity whatsoever. However, Mrs. Reynolds would not be easy until it was agreed that she would sleep in the guest bedroom across the hall from Elizabeth. Sally quickly went to make up the room, and that would allow Cook and the maids to continue their duties and ensure fires were made, all until a nurse could be found for Miss Knight, provided one was needed.

“I will not need a nurse,” Elizabeth insisted to her aunt, once they were alone.

“It is best to allow people to fuss when they wish it,” Aunt Cass said. “There are no children or even grandchildren amongst our little circle of friends here to fuss over and tend to. You must make allowances for people who need to fuss over the sick.”

“Please, Aunt. If a nurse is hired for me, my father will insist I go back to Bryden. Then, he will see there is nothing the matter, and he will blame me for wasting everyone’s money.” Elizabeth fought back tears. “Please. I am well enough.”

“You are beside yourself! You aren’t thinking straight. Not that I blame you. You nearly just burned to death.”

“The shock has faded. Now, I am mostly tired. All I wish is some sleep and a good meal in the morning.”

“We have never had a break in before. This is most shocking. I might have to get Andrews and John sleeping next to the windows so that we can feel safe at night.”

“What do you mean by that? Are you saying they thought the house was full of riches?”

“I believe someone was trying to steal the books. He knew where my bedroom was, Aunt. I am convinced he came through the window down the hallway, which is incredibly difficult to open from the outside. I heard something fall to the floor. Is that not where the mahogany table is set up? With those little pewter statues Uncle Spencer loved?”

Aunt Cass silently thought on it for a moment and left the room, heading down the corridor. She returned a moment later. “You are correct, my dear. Several of the little things are upon the floor. Unharmed. That is a difficult window to climb through.”

“Exactly! If he simply wished to steal the silverware, why not the main floor? You can clearly see that large silver vase with the dried flowers it in through the window from the street! Why wouldn’t he have inspected the rooms between the window and here first? He could have stolen your jewelry if general theft was his goal.”

“Indeed, the statues alone would have been worth something,” Aunt Cass said. “I believe you might be right.”

“I believe I am right in saying that boy had a very specific purpose. He avoided all of those rooms and made his way directly toward my room. He opened the door across the corridor, realized he was turned around, and then came across to me.”

“There are not that many people who know the layout of my upper rooms. And he certainly couldn’t have stolen them all of the books,” Aunt Cass said.

Elizabeth looked at the book of autographs. “I get the feeling that my uncle had perhaps not informed me of the entire situation with the Occult Society.”

Aunt Cass let out an annoyed sound. “I loved my brother, but he was a headache sometimes. All right, let’s get you ready for the apothecary. And then I’ll have Sally sleep in your bedroom tonight. And I’ll have John sleep in the hallway. Oh, don’t worry. We’ll pull out the sofa from the spare bedroom. He’ll be quite comfortable. Two of Sir William’s dogs can come over and sleep with the men downstairs, too. Sir William insists. None of the maids are going to be alone tonight either, not even Cook. I shall ask her to sleep in my room. In fact, now that I considered it, I shall move everyone to this floor tonight. With the addition of the dogs at the front door, we will all know the other is safe. And, if necessary, we shall continue every night as long as there is a threat.”

THE NEXT MORNING, THE Thornes’ arrival was loud and bustling, and entirely too early for propriety. Elizabeth was already awake and dressed, though her hair was under a white cap for both warmth and a general laziness about her appearance that morning. She preferred to be out of her cap whenever company arrived, but it was only Maria.

Maria demanded to know where Elizabeth was located and then scolded everyone for not calling for them as soon as the vicious assault had taken place. Elizabeth calmly, though unsuccessfully, explained that it was more of a shock than any true assault, but Maria was so riled up that she was ready to search through every gutter and alley in London to find the robber who attacked her friend.

“I am well,” Elizabeth insisted. “Please, have a seat and join us for breakfast.”

“Are you in much pain from the burns, Miss Knight?” Henry Thorne asked. “I heard they were excessive.”

“It’s ten in the morning, Mr. Thorne! What could you have heard any news this early? Truly, I am very well. In fact, I believe the worst came from the cuts I received when I broke my basin!” Elizabeth chuckled. “I am to use a salve and silk stockings for the next few days, and then I am certain the blisters and redness will fade.”

“Plenty of people have died of infected wounds, Miss Knight,” Maria said in a rather irritated tone.

“I solemnly promise you that these blisters will be gone within a day and I shall fully recover.” Elizabeth smiled. “To be very honest, there is one cut upon the bottom of my foot is the most troublesome because that is where I put my weight when I take a step.”

Mr. Thorne seemed mollified at that news, even if his wife did not. “Well, Maria and I have discussed the matter, and we would both feel significantly better if we could come stay in the house until we are certain you are safe here. Or, if you prefer, we can move everyone to our house and have some of the manservants stay here to look after the female servants. We can also make room to move your entire household to ours. Whatever you wish, Mrs. Spencer.”

Her aunt cut her off. “You are very kind, Mr. Thorne. I accept your offer to stay here with us.”

Despite Elizabeth’s protestations, it didn’t take long for a deal to be struck: Henry and Maria would stay a full week with them, until the following Sunday. Elizabeth suspected it was for Aunt Cass’ benefit more than her own, but she welcomed the company all the same.

“I suppose I must write to my father, so that he hears it from me first and not through gossip. No doubt, by the time it reaches him, it will be that I was burned alive in the street.”

“If you wish, I can have it delivered to Bryden. Then, the horses can return tomorrow, and perhaps with news. We can even send back some books, if you wish.”

But there was no arguing with Maria and Henry when they were being so very helpful. A writing desk was fetched.

March 18, 1810

London

Dear Isabella,

Please do not be alarmed by the sight of this letter’s arrival. Rest assured; we are all well. The manner in which we are hurrying this letter to you is only to ensure that you can all hear the actual news of last night’s events, without the taint of gossip.

Now, I realize upon reading that sentence, you are more alarmed. Please, comfort yourself. Everything is well. For, while the situation could have been dangerous, it was not, and I do not wish either of you to hear fanciful tales. So allow me to tell you the entire story with my own pen and words.

Last night, there was an intruder in my aunt’s home. A basin was broken. Uncle Spencer’s metal army statues were knocked to the floor. A table was accidentally kicked. Nothing was stolen. No one was injured, beyond one of my gowns.

Now, Isabella, I must beg you to read this part slowly, as you might frighten yourself by allowing your imagination run away with you. A candle was knocked down and it caught the hem of my nightgown. I put the fire out quickly and all the injury I have to speak of it was a couple of the tiniest blisters, as well as two insignificant cuts upon my foot where I had quite accidentally stepped upon some of the broken basin.

The apothecary was called, as was a physician. Both agreed I am in perfect health, and merely need to not wear shoes for a day, maybe two at the most, until the cuts heal over. Nothing of consequence at all!

My aunt’s neighbour, Sir William Essex, has been very attentive to our needs. Also, Mr. and Mrs. Thorne will be staying with us until next Sunday, to assist with any of our needs. For my part, I shall be enjoying the quiet joy of being waited upon for a day. I shall pretend I am a duchess!

So, please, I beg all of you. Do not be alarmed. I write this only to get ahead of the rumors and gossip. I assure you; if this had happened at Bryden, we’d have not even called Mr. Clarke to come check on me. That is how insignificant my injuries are.

Give my love to everyone,

Elizabeth

“Will that do?” Elizabeth asked when she’d finished reading the letter aloud.

Aunt Cass shook her head. “Your father would not have called an apothecary unless you were dying. I’m certain the new Mrs. Knight will see through that.”

“That isn’t what I asked, Aunt Cass,” Elizabeth said, with only a hint of rebuke in her voice. “Will it dispel their worries?”

“I believe it will. I don’t know the new Mrs. Knight. Is she a sensible woman?”

Maria made an impolite sound. “I have seen worse, and I have seen better. Mostly, she is merely young.”

“I have never had a complaint about her as a person. My issues are with my father choosing to remarry again. The girls are old enough that I could have taken on the role of mother and guardian. And the girls are at the age where a new stepmother is not an easy thing to understand. At least Mary and I were very young. Mary doesn’t even remember our mother. Theodosia absolutely remembers her mother, and views Isabella as a usurper. Right or wrong.”

“Why on earth would a man his age marry again?” Henry Thorne asked, shaking his head. “What foolishness.”

Aunt Cass snorted. “It would be news to me! No, my marriage days are done, I suspect. And good riddance, too. Men. What good are any of you?”

Aunt Cass laughed. “Indeed you have, Mr. Thorne! Alas, you are young enough to be my son.”

“Nonsense! Any man worth the air he breathes would see that you are a woman of exceptional breeding and taste and would be honoured to have you upon their arm.”

Maria sighed. “Now you all understand how I ended up married to this...this...”

Elizabeth watched the exchange and was surprised by the loneliness in her own heart. She couldn’t help herself from thinking of her Mr. R.

No, he was not her Mr. R. He was someone else’s. He had married the right woman, the one his family approved. The one that had the right dowry. That woman had twelve thousand pounds in her reticule. At the time, Elizabeth had a sweet smile and a rather pretty pale yellow dress. She had been naïve to think her charms were enough to sway a family of consequence.

Elizabeth jolted from her self-reflection to see everyone staring at her. Her aunt looked grave, and Marie concerned. Henry looked poised to rush for a physician.

“I shall inform Cook immediately,” Aunt Cass said. “Excuse me. Please, make yourselves at home.”

When Aunt Cass left the room, Elizabeth said, “I need a favour, Mr. Thorne. I feel terrible for asking, but it is important.”

“Two things. First, I really do wish you to stay about the house as much as possible. I suspect that we will be seeing the Royal Society today, or possibly tomorrow at the latest, and they shall be trying to use this situation to get my books. I believe they will respond better to a man in your position in the house. But I would also like someone to fetch my uncle’s lawyer. A Mr. Grant. I would like him to be informed about the situation with the Royal Society. I have made enough money from my books to pay him for his time, if there is any concern on that score.”

“No, please. I wish to earn my way,” Elizabeth said. She squared her shoulders. “I know that I am poor, but I am not destitute, Mr. Thorne. And, for now, if I can afford to pay for the lawyer to spend the day here sipping tea, and I would like to do so. I may never have the opportunity again to feel so important and independent. Please respect my wish.”

Henry glanced at his wife before saying, “As you say. What is the second thing you would like?”

“My uncle had a servant. A ‘Mrs. Taylor’. Sally tells me she has been turned out by Mr. Leigh. Would you be able to discreetly find this servant? I would like to assist her.”

“What is this about Mrs. Taylor?” Aunt Cass demanded. She was with Sally, who was carrying a tray of cold meats and buns.

Elizabeth had not wanted her aunt to hear of this, for she worried it would influence the aunt against the nephew. Also, she did not wish Sally to get in trouble.

“I learned from Sally last night that Cousin David dismissed some of Uncle Edward’s servants, including Mrs. Taylor.”

Sally nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I wasn’t trying to gossip, ma’am. Miss Knight asked, and I felt it was proper to answer her, since she had known Mrs. Taylor all these years, ma’am.”

“Of course it was proper. I only wished to have heard it directly from you and not in this manner. Where is Mrs. Taylor staying?”

Sally provided the address and both Henry and Aunt Cass gasped in shock. Maria and Elizabeth had not even heard of the street before. “She is there with her niece, who is very ill. Mrs. Taylor could only afford the smallest room there, and has called for Mr. Edward Leigh’s apothecary twice. She says it was too expensive to bring him back for another visit. The gentleman told Mrs. Taylor that her niece, her name is Susan, needed fresh air, but they cannot afford a room with a window. And the air is so poor in that part of London that a window might not even help. So, Mrs. Taylor didn’t see the use in another visit if she couldn’t fix the air.”

Sally gulped. “Um, please do not be angry at Mrs. Cook, but she’s had me take a little bit of supper to them every night. Please do not be angry. It was only what we’d eat ourselves, so it’s only us that’s going without. We were waiting for Mrs. Dover to return! We normally talk to her about these things and she decides if they need to come to you. But we did not wish to distress her by writing.”

“The only person I am angry with at this moment is my nephew. Cook! Cook!” Aunt Cass called out. “Cook! Get in here! John, get Cook for me.”

A moment later, Mrs. Cook came rushing into the room. “What is it? Is Miss Knight worse?”

“We have some bread, and the last of the pork. Boiled bacon and peas are for dinner. Sally is to go to market to see if she can find some fish, or anything edible for guests.” Mrs. Cook glanced at Henry and Maria. “I was thinking to ask Tom if his eldest sister was available for the week. She could help in the kitchen while you have guests. Are we planning more dinner guests?”

“We must do something,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve known her my entire life.”

“What is appropriate help?” Elizabeth asked. “I have all these books and I’m willing to share my good fortune.”

Mrs. Cook gave Sally a stern look. “Sorry, ma’am. We didn’t want to concern you with what Mr. Leigh had done.”

“I understand you were protecting me from my nephew’s true nature, but we must help this poor woman and her niece.”

“May I offer a suggestion?” Henry asked. When Aunt Cass nodded, he said, “I believe that we could approach this from two different ways. First, we should send some food and bread for these poor people. We have plenty at our house, especially with temporary relocation here. I shall have my coachman go with Sally here, to deliver food. That way, we will all know where they live. And, then my coachman can return with Sally, and then leave for Bryden with Miss Knight’s letter.”

“Oh! We should send Mrs. Rundle to assess!” Maria exclaimed. “Our housekeeper here in London is very sensible, Mrs. Spencer.”

“Of course! We can send Mrs. Rundle with Sally. Then, she can determine what would be best to help. My wife is very correct. Mrs. Rundle is a sensible, practical woman.”

“I would like to set aside a little money from the book sales to pay for a physician to see Mrs. Taylor’s niece as well.”

“Nevertheless. We have Sir Brandon, I believe that was his name, visiting today. Correct, Mr. Thorne?”

“No, I wish him to come. We will sell as many books as possible today, with what has been sorted. That will provide ready funds in case we need to call for another medical opinion.”

“Then, I can write immediately and invite some individuals to the house to peruse. Are you certain, though, in your current situation?” Henry asked. “And you, Mrs. Spencer?”

“My uncle’s death has affected these two poor women. I shall not abandon them because I had a few blisters and cuts,” Elizabeth said. “When the physician says it is safe to visit Mrs. Taylor, I shall. Until then, I believe we should do everything possible to assist.”

“Then, ladies and Mr. Thorne, we have a plan. Let us get to work,” Aunt Cass said.