Chris did not know. The signs were hopeful, of course, but there was a long way between “not dying” and “completely recovered.”
“Ernie,” Chris drawled, “you want the secret Chinese brew. I want my brother to thrive at Oxford.”
“Get me the medicine and I will vote for him. I swear it.”
“I require his admission, not just your vote.”
“I hold sway—”
“Then it shall be easy for you.”
The man grimaced. He appeared to think about it for a long while, but the end was inevitable.
“Very well—”
“And he needs free lodging at a place that shall provide meals. I believe your cousin owns such an establishment.”
“What?”
“The Magdalen Arms, is it not? A central spot for the Oxford elite. He has a few rooms to let?”
“For dignitaries, intelligentsia, and dons! For the prince if he ever wished to travel to Oxford!”
“My brother deserves no less than such a place.”
“But—”
Chris gave the man an arch look. “If you want this miracle Chinese brew, then I want my brother studying in the lap of luxury. It is the smallest of what the boy deserves.” That wasn’t a lie. His brother, for all his naivete, was the best of the family. If Jonathan wanted to fill his prodigious mind in Oxford, then Chris would make sure he did it in style.
“I cannot do such a thing! The cost alone—”
“Then I will not betray my oldest friend’s confidence.” And as he spoke, he “accidentally” knocked Ernie’s foot, causing the man to howl in pain. “Goodness, Ernie,” he drawled. “Is something the matter?”
“Yes,” the man snapped. “A greedy earl has taken unfair advantage of me.”
“Hmmm. I wonder what a priest would think of a man who required coin to vote for a student’s admission into Oxford? Would that be taking unfair advantage?” It was a risk to poke Ernie so hard. People who accepted bribes didn’t like their sins spoken aloud, and in the prince’s presence no less. But Chris was tired of fencing with idiots all day, dancing about their vanities, all while trying to carve out a place for himself and his family. It was men like Ernie who kept even the most deserving down.
“Shut up!” Ernie hissed as if his extortion of prospective students wasn’t known to everyone here. “Very well. If she dances, then I will see to your brother’s comforts.”
“And then I will give you her recipe.”
Now all he had to do was see that the girl survived.
Chapter Eighteen
“Lady Emmaline, thiscannot continue. We all think so.”
“Indeed, we do. I’ve had three maids threaten to leave just last night.”
“I couldn’t agree more, my lady. The duchess’s stomach is so upset that there is nothing I can cook to please her. I’ve tried everything, but it isherpresence that is the problem. Not my cooking.”
Emmaline took a breath as she faced off against butler, housekeeper, and cook. All three of them coming into her parlor during her first quiet minute of the day.
“I see,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “And byher, I assume you mean Miss Wong.”
“It’s not her fault, my lady. We all know that.”
“She’s had a bad go of it, and that’s a fact. But you see—”
