Damn.
His reformed soul had accepted the wager. In that moment, Jahleel vowed with his Cossack heart to right things for Katherine and her sisters and to curse Tavis every day until the work was done.
Chapter 6
GEORGINA—A YEARLATER, MAYHEM
March 7, 1817
London, England
Iran out of the house, leaving before my older sister stopped me with her mission of the day. With the coal business slowly recovering, Katherine seemed dedicated to it as if it were human, giving the baby more care than her late husband ever did.
Mr. Thom shook his fingers at me. “Where you going, Miss Georgina? Can’t just run to Olympus like Hermes.”
Frowning at him, I refused to be deterred. “Mr. Thom, I’m not running. I’m riding. Hand me the reins. You know where I’m off to.”
The old man’s face became serious. “He never misses a Friday. Go see what our duke is up to.”
The Wilcox man-of-all-work had been with our family a long time. He was Papa’s right-hand man. He and his sons drove our coal wagons until we were down to just two. He’d seen how the duke attending us had changed us for the better.
Scarlett bounced down the steps. “I have my medical books. I’m going to fix him. I know he’s sick. He looked pale last week. He didn’t feel up to taking a walk by the river with us like we always do. He loves rivers. Says his home in Saint Petersburg has many.”
If an illness couldn’t be fixed by soup or bedrest, a female’s logic was ignored. But Scarlett was determined to right this. She wanted to be a physician, a woman doctor in the male profession.
From her herb garden in the backyard to her sneaking into science lectures, my sister wouldn’t be deterred.
Before she could climb next to me in the gig—a beautiful two-wheeled carriage that my horse, Thunder, pulled—Katherine stood by Mr. Thom on the steps.
“Oh, boy,” he said. “You got caught. Betcha a pound she’s not letting you go.”
Everyone stilled.
No one tossed out bets but Tavis.
My brother-in-law was gone, a year and a week. All of us, the duke included, took him to the cemetery. We offered prayers before His Grace returned us to Ground Street. Tavis’s parents never came.
But the duke visited every week, every Friday morning until today.
“Get out of the gig. I’m sure Mr. Thom has to run errands, ladies.”
“No errands. All done for today,” he said, but then backed away, fleeing to the rear of the redbrick house as she glared at him. It was her mad face, like the one she offered us.
“Something is terribly wrong with the duke. I’m—”
“Weare.” Scarlett interrupted me. “This is anusproject.”
Katherine marched down the steps and stood in front of Thunder.
Seeing her scowl with her arms folded, foot tapping, reminded me of Mama. That woman could be severe when she was healthy. . . and angry.
“Katherine, you’re not more than four years older than me, and at times you act like I need a guardian. Where’s the fun-loving girl who’d always dared to take on the world?”
The frown that seemed permanently etched on her face grew larger. “You both need guardians to protect your reputations. With the coal company doing better, perhaps I should do what other guardians do and find you two husbands.”
I looked at Scarlett.
She looked back at me. In unison, we said, “Katherine, you’ve become otherworldly.”
