A few minutes later, once they had all settled into the morning room and had a pot brought out for them, Vanessa began to explain. “We went to the Cleveland Street Workhouse—the first one you had been to, I think?” she said. “Miss Jennings and I were asking questions of the children, and one of the boys told us—”
“That awful George Ricks creature!” Miss Jennings burst out, with a sudden, animated anger. “He threw that pregnant woman out on the street and pretended he’d never taken her in at all! He would have forced her to give birth out on the street if Mr Lowe hadn’t been there to protest!”
Albert had settled directly next to Miss Jennings—he was still trying to convince her to press a wet cloth to the awful bruise along her eye, but she barely seemed to notice him. “I seem to recall you doing much of the protesting, Miss Jennings,” Albert said dryly. “Though, to be sure, I would have done the job if you had let me.”
“Miss Jennings confronted the workhouse master,” Vanessa said quietly. Dora’s cousin had curled into her chair with a pale face. Her fingers shook on her teacup. “He struck her for impertinence. I think his cuff link might have caught her eye as well.” Vanessa paused, and a fearful smile crossed her lips. “Mr Lowe struck him back much harder, I would wager.”
Dora frowned at Albert’s silver right hand. She had at first assumed that the blood on it was from Miss Jennings’ injury—but now that she looked, she saw that there was far too much blood for that.
“I wish I had been there to see it,” Dora murmured. She could not imagine any greater satisfaction in that moment than seeing the pain that solid metal could inflict upon the workhouse master’s face.
“That miserable excuse for a human being deserved far worse,” Miss Jennings seethed. “He mustn’t be allowed to remain in charge of that workhouse, Mr Lowe! Surely, this sort of thing must be illegal—oh!” The ex-governess had gestured too violently at this and jolted the cloth so painfully against her eye that she had to let out a gasp.
“Please stay still, Miss Jennings,” Albert begged her, reaching out to grab her chin and keep her still. “You still have a cut near to your eye, and it will be most unpleasant when it swells up.” He shook his head. “Someone will do something. But it will not be you. Any of you. Please, leave the man’s fate up to me.”
Dora expected that the workhouse master would not be getting off as easy as Miss Jennings clearly feared. There was a hard look in Albert’s eyes that she had never seen before.
Albert pulled back from Miss Jennings, though he kept the cloth gingerly against her eye. “In the meantime, I will want your notes from the last few days, Miss Jennings,” he addressed the ex-governess. “And Miss Ettings—whatever you have of that translation, I would like to take it with me.”
Dora went upstairs to fetch the partial translation for Albert. He quickly put himself together to leave once more, but he insisted that Miss Jennings should come by Carroway House in the morning so that he could check on her eye again. When the two of them had both left, Dora turned her attention back to Vanessa, who had yet to move from the place where she huddled in her chair.
“You are upset,” Dora said.
“Oh, Dora,” Vanessa said, with a tremble in her voice. “How could I not be? I tried so hard not to be a bother while I was there, but it was just so awful!” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I cannot seem to forget any of it, no matter how hard I try. I cannot imagine going to some silly ball tonight!”
Dora settled into the chair next to her cousin, pulling her into an embrace. Vanessa held her back, sniffling into her shoulder. “I should not be so relieved to see you this upset,” Dora said. “But I cannot help that I am. I wanted to believe that you would be of a mind with me on this matter, and you are.”
Vanessa swallowed hard. “I do not even know what to do about it, Dora,” she said. “It all seems so very overwhelming.”
“We must choose little things to fix where we can,” Dora told her, remembering what Elias had said about small evils. “I have decided to help Elias fix Jane, and maybe undo this awful plague. But perhaps you will pick something else.”
Vanessa chewed at her lip, clearly thinking hard on the matter. But their conversation was cut short by Lady Hayworth, who swept into the room, clapping her hands.
“Look at the two of you!” the countess said, with a disapproving look. “There is barely time before the ball, and neither of you is properly dressed!”
Vanessa hesitated, tightening her arms on Dora. “I am... not feeling well,” she said softly. “It might be best if I did not go, Lady Hayworth.”
The countess laughed. Dora thought that was a strange response to Vanessa’s obvious distress, but she was probably not the best person to judge. “Rumour has it that Lord Carroway’s oldest son has suddenly decided to attend,” Lady Hayworth said. “He intends almost certainly to spend more time with you. If you were dying in your bed, Miss Ettings, you would still be going.”
Vanessa knitted her brow. Auntie Frances had rarely crossed her daughter’s moods—though to be fair, Dora thought, Vanessa rarely had moods at all. “Perhaps my mother—” she began tremulously.
“Your mother will agree with me,” Lady Hayworth chastised Vanessa with a stern look. “I have told her that she is far too accommodating with the both of you. Perhaps that is how mothers treat their children in the country, but it is not proper here.” The countess eyed them both in a most unfriendly
