Page 14 of Echo in the Wind

“Let’s let your mother sleep.” Joanna rose from the bed, taking Briney’s hand that did not hold the tart. She led her back to the main room. Already it was warmer. “If you want to save the rest of your tart, there will soon be tea to go with it.”

Briney set what was left of her tart on the table flanked by two long benches. Joanna lifted Briney onto one of them and placed some bread and cheese in front of her. “You can’t live on tarts.”

Briney nodded. “Yes I can.”

Joanna chuckled. “Well, maybe you can, at that. When I was your age, I thought so.”

Danny burst into the room carrying a stack of branches and sticks. Nate, at his side, had a bundle of wood under one arm. “Lady Joanna!” Danny exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were coming today. Hello Freddie, Nora.”

Where Briney and Nate favored their mother with blonde hair and blue eyes, Danny had the brown hair and hazel eyes of their father.

“We came to look in on your mother and to bring more things for you and your family.”

“Thank you, m’lady,” said Danny. Only a youth, he had shouldered much responsibility, and Joanna’s heart ached for him.

His cheeks were flushed. “Do you still have a fever, Danny?”

“’Tis not bad,” he said, making light of it.

Not wishing to embarrass him or worry his siblings, she did not reply. But she was glad she had brought all the children warm jackets and shoes.

The boys laid the wood next to the fireplace where a warm fire now crackled, sending heat into the room.

Respecting Polly’s preferences, Joanna reminded the children to wash their hands in the bowl on the sideboard before eating. Freddie added more logs to the fire. Everyone gathered around the table and Nora poured the tea.

The cups they drank from were not the fine porcelain used at The Harrows, but it mattered not to Joanna. Giving to this family was worth more to her than all the porcelain cups she would ever have.

Briney slipped from her chair and crawled into Joanna’s lap. “Are you warm enough?” she asked her.

“Now I am,” Briney answered in her little girl voice.

“How is Mum?” asked Danny, picking up a piece of cheese and dropping it on a crust of bread. His forehead creased with worry.

“She is only resting,” Joanna assured him. “Soon she will be well and it will be summer and you will have months of warm weather.”

“We have some things for you,” said Nora. “Blankets, linens, clothes and food. The mistress and I will be going to London, but my brother, Zack, will be keeping an eye on you and can help with anything you need.”

“Is he the big man?” asked Nate.

Joanna met Nora’s gaze and they both laughed. “Aye,” said Nora. “The big one.”

“I’m not going to London,” Freddie put in, “so I will be dropping by from time to time.”

Neither she nor Freddie mentioned the smuggling that had produced the tea they had brought or the coins she would send the Ackermans from her share. It was enough they knew she and Freddie wanted to help.

Joanna hugged Briney. “When we are done here and I’ve seen your mother has something to eat, how would you like to pick some flowers for the table?”

The cherub’s eyes lit up and she clapped her cherry-stained hands. “Yes, oh yes!”

On the road from Sussex to London

Lord Torrington had tried to persuade Jean to stay at The Harrows, but he, the Powells and the Danvers had gracefully declined. They did not wish to impose upon their host after the lavish reception he had given for the Prime Minister.

The Danvers had reserved rooms at the White Horse Inn in Chichester for their party, so Jean had thought to have a restful night’s sleep. But in the middle of the night, he’d awakened with the face of Lady Joanna West in his mind. Their exchange at the reception had been brief, yet it had led to the momentary impulse to ask her if she would be coming to London. His desire to see her again surprised him.

Shortly after breakfast, they had departed Chichester. Jean, Claire and her husband took one carriage and the Danvers the other.

Travel by carriage, whether from Sussex to London, or from Le Havre to Paris, always reminded Jean of the reason he preferred traveling by ship. He had the changeable nature of the sea to contend with, but the motion was less jarring and the challenge of being in charge of one’s own destiny ever appealed.