Free The Raven Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt

“It’s very hard to get to my age without hearing the word at least once, dear.”
    “No, I suppose not,” Anna replied. “Yes, John and Tom indicated that she is a whore.”
    Mother Wren sighed. “You know it would be best to send her away.”
    “Yes, undoubtedly.” Anna lifted her chin.
    “But”—Mother Wren threw up her hands—“if it is your wish to care for her here, I’ll not stop you.”
    Anna blew out a breath in relief and ran upstairs to see to her patient.
    A quarter of an hour later, there was a sharp knock on the door. Anna came down the stairs in time to see Mother Wren smooth her skirts and answer the door.
    Dr. Billings, in a white bobbed wig, stood outside. “A good day to you, Mrs. Wren, Mrs. Wren.”
    “And to you, Dr. Billings,” Mother Wren answered for them both.
    Anna led the doctor to her room.
    Dr. Billings had to duck to enter the bedroom. He was a tall, gaunt gentleman with a bit of a permanent stoop. The tip of his bony nose was always pink, even in summer. “Well, what have we here?”
    “A woman I found in distress, Dr. Billings,” Anna said. “Will you see if she is ill or injured?”
    He cleared his throat. “If you’ll leave me alone with this person, Mrs. Wren, I’ll endeavor to examine her.”
    Clearly, John had told Dr. Billings the manner of woman they had found.
    “I think I shall remain, if you do not mind, Dr. Billings,” Anna said.
    The doctor obviously did mind but could think of no reason to order Anna from the room. Despite his opinion of the patient, Dr. Billings was thorough but gentle in his examination. He looked down her throat and asked Anna to turn away so that he might scrutinize the sick woman’s chest.
    Then he straightened the covers over her and sighed. “I think we had better discuss this downstairs.”
    “Of course.” Anna led the way from the room and down the stairs, stopping to ask Fanny to bring some tea to the sitting room. Then she indicated the only armchair for the doctor and sat across from him on the edge of the tiny settee, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. Was the woman dying?
    “She’s quite ill,” Dr. Billings began.
    Anna leaned forward. “Yes?”
    The doctor avoided her eyes. “She has a fever, perhaps an infection of the lungs. She’ll need some bed rest to recover.”
    He hesitated and then apparently saw the alarm in Anna’s face. “Oh, it is nothing grave, I assure you, Mrs. Wren. She’ll recover. She just needs time to heal.”
    “I am most relieved.” Anna smiled. “I thought from your manner that the disease was fatal.”
    “Indeed not.”
    “Thank God.”
    Dr. Billings rubbed his finger along the side of his thin nose. “I’ll send some men around immediately when I get home. She’ll need to be taken to the poorhouse for care, of course.”
    Anna frowned. “But I thought you understood, Dr. Billings. We wish to nurse her here at the cottage.”
    A red stain seeped up the doctor’s face. “Nonsense. It is entirely inappropriate for you and the elder Mrs. Wren to care for a woman of that sort.”
    She set her jaw. “I’ve discussed it with my mother-in-law, and we are both in agreement that we will care for the lady in our home.”
    Dr. Billings’s face was now completely red. “It is quite out of the question.”
    “Doctor—”
    But Dr. Billings interrupted her. “She’s a prostitute!”
    Anna forgot what she was about to say and closed her mouth. She stared at the doctor and saw the truth in his countenance: this was how the majority of the people in Little Battleford would react.
    She took a deep breath. “We’ve decided to take care of the woman. Her profession doesn’t change that fact.”
    “You must see reason, Mrs. Wren,” the doctor grumbled. “It’s impossible for you to care for that creature.”
    “Her condition is not contagious, is it?”
    “No, no, probably not anymore,” he admitted.
    “Well, then, there is no reason we can’t care for her.” Anna smiled