Mrs. Hickinbottom returned with a nervous curtsy. “Pardon me, ma’am, but a gentleman is at the door for you. Your brother, he says.”
“John is here?” I exclaimed. Harriet had met my sister and brother-in-law in Highbury, and she smiled in happy surprise. That faded when I said, “Excuse me, Harriet. I will speak with him and return.” I sounded nervous even to my own ears.
I followed Mrs. Hickinbottom from the parlor, but she slowed in the corridor, then stopped well short of the closed front door.
“Is there something else?” I asked.
“If the gentleman is your brother… ma’am, it is just the matter of the bill. I mentioned that we settle each morning. It is three days now.”
I bit my lip. My funds had shrunk to a handful of crowns and shillings. But success was so close. I would find the money. Emma Woodhouse was rich, handsome, and clever.
“It slipped my mind.” I smiled. “I do not have my purse. May I pay you this afternoon?”
“Of course, ma’am.” She dipped nervously, then opened the front door and hurried toward the kitchen.
John was pacing outside, pompous and frowning. “Emma.”
“John. May I ask how you knew I was here?”
“I listened to you fraternize with your driver as you left. Although it was a chore to find which of thesehomesyou were in.” He swung an accusing finger toward the row of modest houses, then peered past me into the hallway. “Can we speak?”
“The parlor is occupied. I prefer to converse in public.” I stepped past him onto the small landing so we were in plain view to passersby. My elbow still ached from the wrench he had given me.
His jaw worked, then he held up a folded piece of paper. “This is a doctor’s bill. A copy was delivered to me as a ‘courtesy’ because the amount is past due.” He unfolded it and read mockingly, “?‘A consultation for vapors and illusions of the mind.’?”
The terror of discovery jammed my thumping heart into my throat. I swallowed twice. Treat this as business, nothing more. “I will pay that.”
He squinted at the paper and pursed his lips in an airy whistle. “Nine pounds, seven shillings. Such an expensive doctor.”
“I said I will pay it.” I had saved half the sum last month—ransacking old purses and collecting the change from butcher orders—but all that had gone toward this trip.
John smiled. “The money is no concern. Not betweenfamily.” His smile became a vicious sneer. “My concern is yoursafety. A woman who is so unwell cannot be unsupervised. She cannot live alone in a monstrous house like Hartfield.”
Wild thoughts for how to raise the money vanished. I was lost. My attempt to be healed had ruined me.
“Miss Woodhouse is perfectly well,” Harriet announced, stepping out onto the landing between us.
John backed a step. “Miss Smith. You are interrupting a private conversation.”
“But I cannot let you worry!” Harriet exclaimed, her eyes wide with sincerity. “Miss Woodhouse and I went with my friend to the doctor, then Miss Woodhouse offered to pay for the visit. She was wonderfully generous. Myfriend was worried that some horrid person would”—Harriet leaned conspiratorially close and finished ferociously—“pry.”
“I do not believe you,” John said bluntly.
Harriet elevated her nose. One would never know she had delivered a massive fabrication. “Ask the doctor, then.”
John folded his arms, eyes flicking between us. He crumpled the paper into his pocket. “Very well. I will pay this. Fromyouraccounts.” He waved disparagingly at the door behind us. “But do not imagine I will fund your gallivanting about London!”
He stomped to a waiting coach. The driver craned around in his seat, waiting as traffic passed, then snapped the reins and rolled off. Still I stood, paralyzed by the specter of disaster. If I had said one more word—if I had asked for help or begged for sympathy—he would have had his proof. He could have destroyed me. Ejected me from Hartfield. Placed me in an asylum.
“Miss Woodhouse,” Harriet said gently. “Will you come inside? We must get ready. I do not want to be late to help with the class.”
“Call me Emma,” I whispered.
21
THE PHYSIC GARDEN
EMMA
