“As you wish, milady. Williams will take us wherever we need to go.”
Williams glanced over his shoulder to smile at Edith, and her cheeks turned bright pink. I had noticed a growing attraction between the two of them but hadn’t said anything. Some felt that servants should remain single to stay employed—after all, it was more convenient for all involved. But I would never hinder Edith or the desires of her heart. Nor would I send her away. She was a dear friend, even if we had to maintain our social differences.
Instead, I simply turned away from them and looked toward the sea, allowing myself to think about Henry. I indulged in the memory of Christmas night and the stolen kisses in the garden. He’d left soon after he’d told me he loved me and then returned the next day to tell me he was taking another trip to New York under the guise of his father’s shipping interests. He’d learned things while in Williamsburg that he had to pass on to the other spies on his route. I wanted to ask him not to go, but I didn’t have that right. He must do what he felt best, so I had wished him Godspeed and told him I’d be praying.
It had been four weeks since I’d seen him last, and though I missed him terribly, the memory of his kisses and his love kept me warm when I missed him most.
Williams pulled the automobile to a stop at the base of the hill where the Church of St. Mary stood proud on the east cliff, overlooking the River Esk and the town of Whitby. A daily soup kitchen had been set up in the church since the raid.
“You don’t mind the steps, milady?” Williams asked as he put the automobile in park and then came around to open the door for me.
“I am glad for some exercise,” I told him. “Please return at three for us.”
“As you wish.” He tipped his black driving hat.
Edith and I gripped the picnic baskets we’d brought full of cakes and pastries from Cumberland Hall and started the ascent up the stone church steps. There were one hundred and ninety-nine of them, and they wound around buildings all the way up the hillside.
Halfway, a sudden bout of dizziness took me unaware. I became winded and had to stop for a rest.
“Are you unwell?” Edith asked as she put her hand on my back while I caught my breath.
“I’m fine.” I tried to smile. “I should take more walks in the fresh air, and perhaps I won’t tire so easily.”
“You’re pale.” Concern tightened her voice. “Perhaps we should turn back.”
“I confess, I feel a little queasy.” I looked out over the red-roofed town and toward the sea beyond and had to close my eyes because of the dizziness. Nausea soon followed, and I gripped the handrail. “Perhaps it’s the height. I’ve never done well with heights.”
“But we were just here two days ago, and it didn’t bother you.” She wrung the picnic basket handles as she looked up the remaining steps and then back down.
“I will be fine in a moment.” I pressed my hand against my head until the dizziness passed. “See, I’m feeling better already.”
Edith didn’t look convinced.
I straightened and stared up the daunting stairway. People were coming and going, no doubt to the soup kitchen. To one side of the stairway was a steep, stone-covered road, where a lady with a white handkerchief leaned against a building towatch the people going up and down the stairs. She had her eye on me but made no move to help.
The smell of the sea floated past me as I gripped the cold handrail, making the nausea feel worse. I would not be sick on these steps.
I pushed myself until we reached the top and was rewarded with a magnificent view of the North Sea and the old ruins of Whitby Abbey behind the Church of St. Mary. For as far as I could see, the sea and the cliffs and the rolling moors filled my senses. I regained a sense of normalcy and felt the nausea pass.
Several people from Whitby that I had come to know in the past few weeks were present. Kind, thoughtful people who had endured unspeakable hardships since the raid. But as I entered the church, with its white-painted wood and dark-stained pews, I recognized another familiar face.
“Dr. Aiken! How nice to see you again.”
“And you, Lady Cumberland.” He motioned toward the basket I was carrying. “I see you are not taking a rest, even though your home is now empty.”
“I will not rest until everyone is healthy and properly housed.”
Edith offered to take my basket, and I handed it to her so she could take it to the tables where they were serving the meal. Several dozen people waited in line for their lunch.
“What brings you here?” I asked the doctor.
“I came to check on some of the patients I cared for at your home. I was invited to stop by the soup kitchen to enjoy the meal.”
I smiled. “Areyounot tired and in need of a rest?”
“A doctor? During a war?” He smiled, and his eyes wrinkled at the edges. “Not likely.”
Another wave of dizziness passed over me, and I had to latch on to the pew at my side. The nausea followed, and I pressed my lips together as sweat broke out on my brow.
