Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“Doing what?”
“Squandering any money you earn on the downtrodden. You’ve been doing it for years. You alone will not be able to save them. I do not know why you carry such guilt. It was not you who caused their present circumstances.”
Henry was a good man, a kind man. Far better than many I had the misfortune of meeting. He went out of his way to aid when needed. However, at the end of the day, he was still a nobleman, and therefore unable to fully understand the lack of fairness in this life. And I never pushed to change his views because there was nothing that could.
Life was unfair. It would always be unfair. And thus, the greatest anyone could hope for was a person to be as good as they could be.
“It is not squandering if it helps someone in need,” I replied as we walked across the street.
“Charity is always a fine endeavor, but you often do so at your own expense my friend. You have given them food today, what shall happen tomorrow or next week? You are not rich enough to be such a benefactor—”
“Has anyone told you that you are starting to sound like your parents?”
He paused and looked at me aghast, placing his hand on his chest. “That was a harsh blow. Must you be so cruel?”
“I must. For you—”
“Mr. Parwens? Dr. Darrington?”
We both turned to see Lady Hathor, dressed in light blue, a matching parasol above her, her hand holding that of her youngest sister. Not so far off in the distance was her father and Lord Hardinge in some deep conversation, the topic of which was sure to be philosophy.
“Lady Hathor, how nice it is to see you,” Henry said.
“I am here too.” The little girl beside her pouted, making him laugh before nodding to her.
“My apologies, Lady Abena.”
She smiled, nodding. “You can just call me Abena. I’m not a very good lady.”
“Abena!” Hathor snapped down at her.
“What?”
“Excuse her, she is…young,” Hathor said with a very tight smile on her face, making Henry beside me smile.
“What brings you ladies out today? Are you in need of ribbons?” Henry questioned while I glanced to see if Verity was close by, as they were normally always together. But she was nowhere in sight.
“We planned on a family walk, but that changed this morning and now we are on a quest for anything sweet one could have while sick with a cold,” she replied.
“Are you ill, my lady?” I asked.
“Not her,” Lady Abena spoke. “Verity is sick, and we wished to get her something to make her feel better. I said chocolates but someone does not agree.”
It was like the earth shook underneath me.
Hathor shook her head. “Chocolates, when you are unwell, make you worse, Abena—”
“Lady Verity is ill? What are her symptoms? Does she have a fever? Has a doctor been called already? Is she—”
“One question at a time, Doctor, or how will they answer!” Henry placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a stern look. It was only then I saw the looks of both the girls before me. “Forgive my friend here, when it comes to medicine, he often loses his mind.”
“Oh, I get like that with food!” Abena grinned, causing her sister to sigh.
“If I were a smarter person, I’d be home with Devana,” Hathor muttered under her breath, looking to us. “Thank you for your concern, Dr. Darrington. I believe she is fine and in no need of a doctor. Our mama has defeated many a cold before. We only sought to get her something while we were out on our walk. We ought to be going now.”
She turned to leave when I stepped forward again. “Laoshan tea!”
“I beg your pardon?” She turned back to me.
“Laoshan tea with a bit of sugar. It’s very sweet and tastes a bit like chocolate. It’s also very good for health,” I said softly, trying to calm myself, but I knew I would not be able to until I saw her. However, what could be wrong? She had seemed perfectly well yesterday.
“A tea that tastes like chocolate?” Abena gasped.
Before I could reply, I heard the voice of their father calling out, “Benjamin!”
His voice was so loud that everyone within hearing distance paused and turned to watch as the marquess grabbed on to his friend, who was clutching his chest struggling to breathe.
Again?
Had this not just happened yesterday? I did not need another repeat performance. Nevertheless I rushed toward him, helping the marquess carry the weight of the man nearly keeling over before us. Henry came over to help ease the burden off the marquess.
“What happened?” I asked, reaching to touch Lord Hardinge’s pale white neck.
“I am not sure. He was well one moment, and then the next began a fit of coughs he could not shake.”