anything would make the girl happy.
“Wossat, ma’am?”
“Come with me to the drawing room and we will talk about it.” Rayne held her hand out and the little girl took it. As they walked together down the corridor, Rayne thought again on how she would love to keep the girl herself, but with the life she led, and with everything in a turmoil with her life right now, Glory’s best place was with Mary Beth.
A family in the country, with lots of fresh air, good food, a loving mother and father and a brother. All the things Rayne could not give her.
They sat side-by-side on the settee and Rayne took Glory’s hands. “As much as I would love to keep you here with me, being a busy doctor doesn’t allow for children.”
Glory’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Are yer returnin' me ter the bloomin' streets, ffen?” Her chin quivered and Rayne pulled the girl to her chest.
“No! No, no, no. I would never do that to you, Glory.” She smoothed the girls curls back from her forehead. “I have arranged for you to live with my sister.”
“Yer 'ave a sister?”
“Yes. I do. In fact, I have two sisters, but the one I’m speaking of is a wonderful, kind woman and you will love her. She lives in a fine house with her husband and their little boy, Thomas.”
“I'm ter be a maid, ffen? I do learn fast. She wouldn't 'ave ter put me out.” Her eyes grew big.
Rayne hugged her small body closer. “No, Glory. You are not to be a maid. You will be a daughter. Their daughter.”
“I will be 'heir daugh'er?” Rayne smiled at Glory’s interesting speech. She imagined the little girl’s new tutor would have a time of it trying to understand her.
Glory narrowed her eyes. “Woss in it for them?”
It was so sad that Glory assumed she would be forced to work, or that if Mary Beth wanted to make her a daughter of the family that they would gain something for it.
Of course, they would gain something in having a sweet little girl to raise.
“The only thing they want is to make you happy and give you the life a little girl should have. You will learn to read and write and have plenty of food and clothes.”
“Does she knah I'm a bloody rough one?”
Rayne cringed. “You musn’t use that word, Glory.”
She frowned. “Wha' wawd?”
“Bloody.” Rayne whispered it, as if saying it in a soft voice didn’t make it so ugly.
“Why?”
“Because it’s a bad word and nice young ladies don’t use that word.”
Glory laughed and shook her head. “So, I'm ter be a nice young lady, isit? 'oo would ever fink?”
Two days later Edwin entered the infirmary after having placed an order for medical supplies. He was pulled in the direction of the drawing room where a lively conversation was taking place.
“Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen.” He greeted Lady Pamela and her husband, Nick Smith, Mrs. Lizbeth Mallory, and her husband Marcus.
He knew Rayne had been expecting them—at least the two ladies anyway—since Mrs. O’Leary had asked the day before if Rayne could summon them so she could offer her apologies for what she’d done to them.
Although Lady Pamela had not been sold to a brothel, she had uncovered the sinister goings-on at the boarding house where she and Lizbeth lived and had turned to Nick to help her rescue Lizbeth once she’d been kidnapped.
Before she asked for Nick’s help, Lady Pamela had been run over by a carriage in the street which had been done to silence her. Both women had reason to thoroughly dislike Rayne’s patient.
Marcus and Nick had rescued Lizbeth from the brothel, and the entire incident ended with two happily married couples. However, too many young ladies did not have a happy ending to their tale.
Rayne stood and walked over to him. “I didn’t realize it, but perhaps I should have anticipated that Marcus and Nick would come with their wives. I am glad you are here in case things get a bit heated with them.”
“I doubt either one of the men would strike Mrs. O’Leary, but I understand your concerns.”
“It might be a better idea if only Pamela and Lizbeth speak with Mrs. O’Leary,” Rayne said.
“No.” Nick Smith, in his usual abrupt—man from the streets—manner wrapped his arm protectively around Lady Pamela’s shoulder. “I will not have my wife face that demon woman alone.”
“You do realize she is unable to move?” Rayne added.
“At all?” Lizbeth asked.
Rayne shrugged her shoulders. “Since she’d been