Tremaine's True Love by Grace Burrowes

Author:Grace Burrowes [Burrowes, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781492621027
Amazon: 1492621021
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Published: 2015-08-03T14:00:00+00:00

Ten

“Nita, wake up.” A determined hand shook Nita from dreams of minty kisses. “I’ll dash you with water if you don’t rouse yourself this instant.”

“Kirsten?”

“You were expecting somebody else?” Kirsten dove under the covers on the far side of Nita’s bed. “I hate winter. I hate being cold. I hate pretending frigid air is invigorating. Addy Chalmers’s daughter is in the kitchen asking for you. I had the child fed, but I fear she wants you to accompany her home.”

The last warm, dreamy cobwebs of memory were scoured away by a cold blast of dread.

“Mary came for me?”

“She’s well enough. I didn’t inquire about the baby. If you want to send Horton to them, I’ll pay for it out of my pin money.” Kirsten drew the covers up to her chin, bouncing the bed all about.

“Horton won’t show up until the day’s half gone,” Nita said, “if he bothers at all, and then he’ll merely look at the child, mutter about weak lungs, and suggest the surgeon should bleed her.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to bleed the little ones.”

Nita swung the covers aside. “In more enlightened environs, the practice is held in low esteem. Thank you for fetching me.”

“You’re going, aren’t you?” Kirsten groused from the depths of the bed. “The sun isn’t even properly up, it’s cold as Lucifer’s backside out there, and away you must go. I’d admire you if you didn’t make me feel so guilty.”

Nita opened the wardrobe, where her much worn habit was always kept in readiness. Guilt was not in evidence this morning, not about resenting Mary’s summons, not about time shared with Mr. St.—with Tremaine.

“You could come with me,” Nita said, taking out her habit. “At some point you will be the lady of a household, and you might want to know basic care for the ill and injured.”

Kirsten’s honesty about her own shortcomings should not have surprised Nita—Kirsten was relentlessly honest—but Nita had made the suggestion as a dare. Sisters who interrupted dreams of Mr. St. Michael’s kisses were not entitled to a cordial reception.

“Very well,” Kirsten said, slogging out of the bed. “I had the boot boy alert the stable that you’ll need Atlas. I can go along with you and spare myself Della’s attempts to flirt with Mr. St. Michael at breakfast.”

Kirsten flounced out, muttering about daft sisters and tiresome winter weather, and Nita used the reprieve to send up a prayer. Addy’s last child had not lived past the first few weeks. The weather was miserable, and the mother fond of gin. Mary would not have come at such an hour for anything less than an emergency.

Nita did not want to go, did not want to find another small, lifeless body cradled in Addy’s thin arms, did not want to face the other children, solemn beyond their years and more afraid than any child should be.

Nita did not want to go, but she must go, as always.

By the time Nita and Kirsten arrived to the cottage, the sun had

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.