news. Dr. Harris had no attendant to recommend and certainly couldn’t spare his wife to assist. James crushed the letter in his hand. He had heard the same from every colleague he’d queried. He wasn’t surprised by their responses, though. It had taken him months to find Miss Guimond, with her special training, and she had come all the way from France.
“You don’t happen to know anything about tending to patients, do you?” James asked Joe. “It would only be for a short while.”
“Me tendin’ patients, sir?” Joe blinked. “No, sir. I mean, I can’t even stand the sight of me own blood! One time I was passin’ a bloke on the street who’d cu’ his foot on a broken bit of pavemen’ and I nearly lost me breakfas’ right . . . I mean, no sir.”
A colorful description that requires no further embellishment, James thought. Frankly, he might be able to do without a medical attendant. Already the number of patients he saw was diminishing. So long as there wasn’t some sort of outbreak in town, he could handle the load on his own. It would still be best, though, to have someone to greet those patients who came to the house for consultations, someone with more refinement than Joe. Someone with courage and a calm manner.
Should I do this, Lord?
It seemed imprudent to entrust Miss Dunne with more responsibilities, especially with the welfare of his patients. She might turn out, as Sophia had uncharitably suggested, to be a liar. Or worse. But Miss Harwood had assured him she was well educated, and he could tell by her speech that was true. She also carried herself with a certain grace his patients would find reassuring, enough perhaps to overlook her obvious Irish heritage. Maybe it was time to take a risk or two. After all, she was already here, the proverbial bird in the hand . . .
Joe cleared his throat, reminding James of his presence.
“Joe, tell Miss Dunne I would like to see her in the dining room. In about fifteen minutes.”
“Aye, sir,” Joe replied, tugging the wayward shock of hair hanging across his forehead before hurrying off.
Rising from his chair, James swept the crumpled letter into the top desk drawer and closed it tight. He needed to dress for dinner. Miss Dunne would be there.
The kitchen was three times larger than the one in Rachel’s home, so daunting it stopped her in her tracks. Mouthwatering smells assaulted—thyme and mustard and sizzling meat. Copper pots and pans, polished colanders and shiny utensils shimmered in the light from the massive fireplace. And silence, thick as cold porridge, filled every single corner. Seated at the oak table centered on the flags, Molly’s face flared the red of a rowan berry The gangly armed maidservant at her side—most likely Peg—dropped her fork onto her pewter plate with a clink. Her face, awkwardly narrow, turned just as pink as Molly’s.
The lions had lost their roar. Rachel felt only a moment’s fleeting victory She knew she would pay for embarrassing them by barging in like this, catching them at their gossipy worst.
A stout woman bustled around the table when it became obvious no one else would budge. She took Rachel’s hands in her own. They were rough but cool and strong. Thick, slate-colored hair was scraped away from her round face and held tight beneath a cap. Her eyes were warmly brown as a spaniel’s and just as observant.
“Welcome, Miss Dunne. I am Mrs. Mainprice, the housekeeper and cook.” She was the woman with the deep, rich voice. She smiled sincerely as she held onto Rachel’s hands.
Rachel liked her immediately. “I am most pleased to meet you,” she said to Mrs. Mainprice. “I am sorry if I am late for dinner. I hurried down as quickly as I could.”
“You’re not late at all. Who could expect you to be any earlier when you’ve just arrived all the way from Ireland this very afternoon?”
Rachel imagined Molly and Peg expected exactly such a thing.
Mrs. Mainprice patted her hand and guided her to a bench pulled up at the table. “Just sit here across from the girls. You already know Molly. And this is Peg. She helps me in the kitchen and the scullery. Molly is responsible for the rest of the house, though this isn’t a grand household and we all do what jobs as are needed.”
Rachel greeted the maids. Molly and Peg were forced to politely bob their heads in return.
“You’re just in time