I hope this letter finds you in full health and vigor. I cannot imagine you in any other state, actually. Every morning I awaken in this place, which seems another world entirely, and I am surprised anew to find myself so far away from my family. And from you.
The journey across the channel was trying, the land route to the clinic even more so. As you know, I am not a good traveler, but Leo saw me safely here. He is now residing a short distance away as a paying guest at a small chateau, and so far he has come to visit every other day…
Win's letter went on to describe the clinic, which was quiet and austere. The patients suffered from a variety of ailments, but most especially those of the lung and pulmonary system.
Instead of dosing them with narcotic drugs and keeping them inside, as most doctors prescribed, Dr. Harrow put them all on a program of exercise, cold baths, health tonics, and a simple abstemious diet. Compelling the patients to exercise was a controversial treatment, but according to Dr. Harrow, motion was the prevailing instinct of all animal life.
The patients started every day with a morning walk outside, rain or shine, followed by an hour in the gymnasium for activities such as ladder-climbing or lifting dumbbells. So far Win could hardly manage any exercises without becoming severely out of breath, but she thought she could detect a small improvement in her abilities. Everyone at the clinic was required to practice breathing on a new device called a spirometer, an apparatus for measuring the volume of air inspired and expired by the lungs.
There was more about the clinic and the patients, which Kev skimmed over quickly. And then he reached the last paragraphs.
Since my illness I have had the strength to do very little except to love [Win had written], but that I have done, and I still do, in full measure. I am sorry for the way I shocked you the morning I left, but I do not regret the sentiments I expressed.
I am running after you, and life, in desperate pursuit. My dream is that someday you will both turn and let me catch you. That dream carries me through every night. I long to tell you so many things, but I am not free yet.
I hope to be well enough someday to shock you again, with far more pleasing results.
I have enclosed a hundred kisses in this letter. You must count them out carefully and not lose any.
Yours, Winnifred
Flattening the slip of paper on the table, Kev smoothed it and ran his fingertips along the delicate lines of script. He read it twice more.
He let his hand close over the parchment, crushing it tightly, and he hurled it into the hearth, where a small fire was burning.
And he watched the parchment light and smolder, until the whiteness had darkened into ash and every last word from Win had disappeared.
Chapter Six
London, 1851
Spring
At long last, Win had come home.
The clipper from Calais was docked, the hold packed with luxury goods, and bags of letters and parcels to be delivered by the Royal Mail. It was a medium-sized ship with seven spacious staterooms for the passengers, each lined with Gothic arched panels and painted a glossy shade of Florence white.
Win stood on the deck and watched the crew employing the ground tackle to moor the ship. Only then would the passengers be allowed to disembark.
Once, the excitement that gripped her would have made it impossible to breathe. But Win was returning to London a different woman. She wondered how her family would react to the changes in her. And of course they had changed as well: Amelia and Cam had been married for two years now, and Poppy and Beatrix were now out in society.
And Merripen… but Win's mind shied from thoughts of him, which were too stirring to dwell on in anything other than a private setting.
She gazed at her surroundings, the forest of ship masts, the endless acres of quay and jetty, the immense warehouses for tobacco, wool, wine, and other items of commerce. There was movement everywhere, sailors, passengers, provision agents, laborers, vehicles, and livestock. A profusion of odors thickened the air: goats and horses, spices, ocean salt, tar, dry rot. And above all hung the stench of chimney smoke and coal vapor, darkening as the night pressed close over the city.
Win longed to be in Hampshire, where the spring meadows would be green and thick with primroses and wildflowers and the hedgerows were in bloom. According to Amelia, the restoration of the Ramsay estate was not yet complete, but the manor was habitable now. It seemed the work had gone with miraculous speed under Merripen's direction.
The gangplank was lowered from the vessel and secured. As Win watched the first few passengers descend to the dock, she saw her brother's tall, almost lanky form leading the way.
France had been good for both of them. Whereas Win had gained some much-needed weight, Leo had lost his dissipated bloat. He had spent so much time out-of-doors, walking, painting, swimming, that his dark brown hair had lightened a few shades and his skin had soaked up sun. His eyes, a striking pale shade of blue, were startling in his tanned face.
Win knew that her brother would never again be the gallant, unguarded boy he had been before Laura Dillard's death. But he was no longer a suicidal wreck, which would no doubt be a great relief to the rest of the family.
In a relatively short time, Leo bounded back up the gangplank. He came to Win with a wry grin, clamping his top hat more firmly on his head.
'Is anyone waiting for us?' Win asked eagerly.
'No.'
Worry creased her forehead. 'They didn't receive my letter, then.' She and Leo had sent word that they would be arriving a few days earlier than expected, owing to a change in the clipper line's schedule.
'Your letter is probably stuck at the bottom of a Royal Mail satchel somewhere,' Leo said. 'Don't worry, Win. We'll go to the Rutledge by hackney. It isn't far.'
'But it will be a shock to the family for us to arrive before we're expected.'
'Our family likes to be shocked,' he said. 'Or at least, they're accustomed to it.'
'They'll also be surprised that Dr. Harrow has come back with us.'
'I'm sure they won't mind his presence at all,' Leo replied. One corner of his mouth twitched in private amusement. 'Well… most of them won't.'
Evening had fallen by the time they reached the Rut-ledge Hotel. Leo arranged for rooms and managed the luggage, while Win and Dr. Harrow waited in a corner of the spacious lobby.
'I'll allow you to reunite with your family in private,' Harrow said. 'My manservant and I will go to our rooms and unpack.'
'You are welcome to come with us,' Win said, but she was secretly relieved when he shook his head.
'I won't intrude. Your reunion should be private.'
'But we will see you in the morning?' Win asked.
Yes.' He stood looking down at her, a slight smile on his lips.
Dr. Julian Harrow was an elegant man, supernally composed, effortlessly charming. He was dark-haired and
