The True Confessions of a London Spy by Katherine Cowley

Author:Katherine Cowley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781956387049
Publisher: Tule Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2021-09-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“If virtue…cannot always make a man happy in sickness or adversity, vice cannot make him so in health and prosperity.”

—The Examiner, London, February 13, 1814

Mary spent the next day in her bed. A maid she did not know brought her food and sat with her at times. She would ask what Mary needed, but Mary had nothing to reply.

She did not attend church with her family. At one point she stood next to her window and watched as a piece of paper, probably another remnant of the Custom House, twirled around in the wind, like a dancer suspended in thin air. Then the paper lost the wind and drifted down to the ground. It landed in a patch of snow on the cobblestone road, and, after a moment, was trampled by a horse.

Mary sank down in the bed and did not move for a long time.

*

The next day, Georgiana and Kitty came to talk to Mary and enliven her spirits, as Georgiana put it. Mary attempted to converse with them, but for the better part of the visit she simply listened. She appreciated their kindness, but she deserved her suffering, she deserved the pain and hopelessness she felt.

Later, Elizabeth brought up a pile of books she thought Mary might enjoy. Mary left them untouched on the table. Instead, she removed Minerva’s letter and forced herself to read the words of that lost and lonely child. When she could take it no longer, she shoved the letter under her pillow and slept on top of it.

*

Mary discovered, from a newspaper, that it was not just Minerva who had died in the Custom House, but another orphan girl as well. The newspaper did not even list either of their names. Mary knew nothing about the second girl except that she was also an orphan, and that she had died with Minerva.

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy brought a doctor to examine Mary. He noted that her arm was healing well and commended the person who had done the stitching; besides that, there was nothing wrong with her: simply a malady of the mind, or perhaps a weakness of her nerves. He prescribed a tonic.

Later, a bouquet of flowers arrived, a gift from Mrs. Hunnicutt.

“Wherever did she get flowers in February?” exclaimed Kitty, who had helped bring the flowers up to Mary’s room.

“There are hot houses that can provide them all year round, but it is not a small expense,” said Georgiana.

Once they were gone, Mary read the note from Mrs. Hunnicutt. The first three pages were from the character of Mrs. Hunnicutt and expressed her concern as well as her reflections on a variety of subjects, as well as an invitation to visit her once she had recovered. Near the end was a line more in keeping with her true person: Mrs. Granger and Mr. Booth requested an update and wanted her back to work.

Mary swallowed. She did not even know the status of the case. There was some connection between the Custom House and Mr.

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