Free The Raven Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt Page A

grimly.
    Fanny chose that moment to bring in the tea. Anna poured for the doctor and herself, trying to remain as serene as possible. She wasn’t used to having arguments with gentlemen, and she found it was most hard to remain resolute and not apologize. It was a rather unsettling feeling, knowing the doctor disagreed with her course, that in fact he disapproved of her. At the same time, she couldn’t repress a clandestine thrill. How exhilarating to speak her mind frankly, uncaring of a man’s opinion! Really, she ought to feel ashamed at the thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. No, not at all.
    They drank the tea in a charged silence, the good doctor having apparently decided he wasn’t going to change her mind. After finishing his cup, Dr. Billings fished a small brown bottle out of his bag and gave it to Anna with instructions on how to administer the medication. Then the doctor crammed his hat on his head and wound a lavender muffler around his neck several times.
    He halted by the front door as Anna was showing him out. “If you change your mind, Mrs. Wren, please call on me. I’ll find an appropriate place for the young woman.”
    “Thank you,” she murmured. She closed the door after the doctor and leaned against it, her shoulders slumping.
    Mother Wren entered the hall and studied Anna. “What does she have, my dear?”
    “A fever and infection of the lungs.” Anna looked at her wearily. “Perhaps it would be better if you and Fanny stayed with friends until this is over.”
    Mother Wren raised her brows. “Who would look after her during the day while you are at Ravenhill?”
    Anna stared, suddenly stricken. “I’d forgotten that.”
    Mother Wren shook her head. “Is it really necessary to stir up this amount of trouble, my dear?”
    “I’m sorry.” Anna looked down and noticed a grass stain on her skirts. It wouldn’t come out—grass stains never did. “I don’t mean to drag you into my mess.”
    “Then why not take the doctor’s help? It’s so much easier to simply do what people expect of you, Anna.”
    “It may be easier, but it isn’t necessarily the right way, Mother. Surely you can see that?” She looked at her mother-in-law pleadingly, trying to find the words to explain. Her actions had made complete sense when she’d been staring at the woman’s sickly face in the ditch. Now, with Mother Wren waiting so patiently, it was harder to articulate her logic. “I’ve always done what was expected, haven’t I? Whether or not it was the right thing to do.”
    The older woman frowned. “But you’ve never done anything wrong—”
    “But that’s not the point, is it?” Anna bit her lip and found to her horror that she was close to tears. “If I’ve never stepped outside the role that’s been assigned to me since birth, I’ve never tested myself. I’ve been too afraid of others’ opinions, I think. I’ve been a coward. If that woman needs me, why not help her—for her . . . and for me?”
    “All I know is that this way will lead to quite a lot of grief for you.” Mother Wren shook her head again and sighed.
    Anna led the way into the kitchen, and the two women prepared a thin beef tea. Anna carried it and the little brown bottle of medicine up the stairs to her room. Quietly, she cracked the door open and peeked in. The woman stirred feebly and tried to raise herself.
    Anna put down her burden and crossed the room to her. “Don’t try to move.”
    At the sound of Anna’s voice, the woman’s eyes flew open and she looked around wildly. “W-w-who are—?”
    “My name is Anna Wren. You’re in my home.”
    Anna hurried to bring the beef tea over to the woman. She put her arm around her patient, gently helping her to sit up. The woman sipped the warm broth and swallowed with difficulty. After she had drunk half the cup, her eyes began to close again. Anna lowered her back to the bed and gathered up the cup and spoon.
    The woman caught her with a