“Not enough, though Chadbourn Park is thick with them.”
Ethan sat back pensively. “We can do the same—hire veterans that is. What do you think, Edmund?”
“One-eared footman?” Edmund asked.
“There’s a one-legged footman at Chadbourn Park,” Will answered with a wry grin. “He manages.”
“You’ll need staff at Brookside when you’re well,” Edmund told his brother.
“The farm grandfather left me?”
Edmund nodded. “I’ve tried to keep an eye on your steward, but I fear it is understaffed and sadly neglected. He turned to address Will. “We can hire veterans, but there must be more we can do.”
“There is. Not least is badgering the government to take responsibility. You—both of you—might find the tracts from that Ladies’ Society interesting, even more so than that book in your lap. But you need to be well—body and soul, Ethan, at least as can be. Think about it.”
Ethan might have despaired in the next several days if it weren’t for the steady stream of good wishes from Flora—he heard her brother call her Flo, but she had become “my Flora” to him. He kept that bit of nonsense to himself, though the household knew he looked forward to her missives, often delivered by Chadbourn himself. A box of sweet cakes from the Chadbourn kitchen came with a tract on the need to employ returning soldiers written, so Will assured him, by Lady Georgiana. A potted orchid came with one on destitute widows. Volume two by the “Author of Sense and Sensibility” came with a flier about a coming event.
Flora is getting her Frost Fair after all, he mused. A smile began with a twitch of his lips and grew to engulf his heart.
* * *
Viscount Digby Osgood stood on a stool lacing a brightly painted sign to the canvas in front of a newly created booth. It read:The Ladies' Society for the Care of the Widows and Orphans of Fallen Heroes and the Children of Wounded Veterans.
“Why, you managed to get it all on one sign after all. I am impressed!” a voice called. Flo looked out to see Lady Constance Whittles gazing up at Lord Osgood with adoring eyes. A footman accompanied her, and they both carried boxes of pamphlets.
Lord Osgood hopped down and helped carry the boxes inside the tent where Lady Constance helped Georgie and Flo unpack tracts and arrange them on a long table stretched across the opening. Flo had been pleased with the location, well removed from some of the more raucous establishments, on a street with a vendor of hot cider, one hawking pasties, and another selling woolen scarves. They were only six places down from Mr. Clemens, editor ofThe Teatime Tattler,and his printing press. If they needed copies, they could apply to him quickly.
“I wonder if that is the best place for the table,” Flo said. “The duchess suggested we make every effort to engage people in conversation. The written word is good, but the personal approach is better.” She glanced sharply at Georgie, “Not that your writing isn’t wonderful.”
Georgie returned a wan smile. “No offense taken. I know better than any the limitations of printed words. Shall we pull it back? I believe Her Grace plans to send sweets from Fournier’s of London to entice people to linger.”
“I do believe it might be better against the wall,” Lady Constance suggested.
“I have to agree,” Flo answered with a smile.
“Allow me, ladies,” Lord Osgood said.
“Cakes from Monsieur Fournier’s renowned restaurant are treasures that will draw this man in—and many others, no doubt,” Lord Osgood told them, as he helped them suit action to words, pulling the table to the side of the booth. The young man helped the ladies in many of their endeavors, motivated, Flo suspected, by his obvious interest in Lady Constance Whittles.
“Thank you, Lord Osgood,” Lady Georgiana said.
Flo knelt to warm her hands at the small brazier they had brought. She had removed her mittens for the work, and the fierce cold had not abated one whit.Good, I suppose, if we’re to socialize and work on this ice!
“Help me unroll this rug,” Georgiana said. Flo and the viscount jumped to assist. They had found a thick, if somewhat worn, wool rug in the Chadbourn attics. At least they wouldn’t have to stand on ice when their turns came to be in the booth.
Lady Constance looked around the tent. “You two seem to have everything well in hand. Perhaps I can lend some assistance elsewhere.
“I believe I will accompany Lady Constance,” Lord Osgood said, “unless you ladies have further tasks for me. Will you need escort home?”
“Chadbourn plans to return for us,” Georgiana told him.
“Where is he?” the man asked. “I was expecting to see him; I understood he planned to help today.”
“Something changed, and he went to visit at Welbrook House,” Flo said biting back the temptation to mention Ethan’s name. She had no idea what announcements about his return the family planned to make.
When he left with a proper bow and jaunty wave, Flo voiced concerns to Georgie who stood beside her watching him leave. “What is my brother up to, do you think? We’ve hardly seen him these few days,” she said.
“He told you he planned to speak with other veterans. One suspects soldiers reminisce most honestly when they gather for drinks and none of us are there to inhibit their memories,” her friend suggested.
