“We gratefully take donations, Lady Kitson, and I don’t want to seem unappreciative of you for thinking about us, but none of us here would know how or where to go about selling merchandise.”
“Oh,” Julia said. “Yes, I should have realized that and do understand exactly what you mean.” In truth, she and Brina were in the same predicament. Entering a seamstress or modiste shop and asking them to buy ostrich plumes and beads for ball gowns wasn’t something a lady of Society would ever do.
Sister Francine rose. “If you have black or white thread or fabric we can make use of it. Otherwise, I have to decline your generous offer.”
“Yes, of course. We’ll find a way to sell it ourselves and bring our donations back to you at another time.”
“In that case, we’d be pleased to accept. And I’ll be happy to talk with you another time about your aspirations to serve, Mrs. Feld.”
“Thank you, Sister,” Brina said tightly.
Julia and Brina remained quiet until they made it out of the building and down onto the pavement.
“I can’t believe it!” Brina exclaimed. “She doesn’t think I’m physically or mentally strong enough to feed people.”
Brina started marching down the street at a fast pace.
Julia rushed after her. “That’s not what she said.”
“Yes, it is,” Brina argued, not bothering to look at Julia. “How could she possibly know what I’m capable of doing from one meeting? Look at me. I am strong and healthy. I’m only twenty-three years old. I could be of service to them for many years to come.”
“Yes, Brina, look at you,” Julia answered. “Look at yourself and tell me what you see.”
Brina stopped abruptly and faced Julia. “You agree with her,” she accused her with a huff of breath. “You don’t think I’m capable of doing this for others either.”
“No,” Julia defended earnestly. “I’m not saying that. Not exactly, but I see what she is seeing. You’ve had an easy life. Look at how you’re dressed. You change your wardrobe from year to year. Her habit was old and worn. You’re young and beautiful. You’re small-boned and have delicate features. You look fragile.”
“I’m not fragile!” she exclaimed, raising her voice and jerking her hands to her hips in anger. “How can you say that about me? You know me. I’m not a weak-kneed simpleton. I know what I want to do. I want to help people in need. And I don’t appreciate Sister Francine all but patting me on the head and telling me to go home and enjoy the life I have.”
Julia hadn’t often seen Brina angry. In fact, she had never seen her in such a tizzy. And Brina was miffed at her, too.
“I’ll go to a different abbey.” Brina stomped off again. “That’s what I’ll do. If they don’t want my help at Pilwillow Crossings, fine. I’ll find one that does.”
Julia caught back up to her again. “That will do no good. They will all see the same person Sister Francine saw.”
“Then I’ll buy some old clothing. Or I’ll start my own house for the poor.”
“That won’t change who you are. Someone who’s never made her own bed or a loaf of bread.”
“Just because I don’t have to make a bed doesn’t mean I can’t do it. And I can learn how to bake bread.”
Julia thought about Brina’s words for a few steps. Of course, Julia could make a bed, too. Not that she’d ever had to, but she was sure she could manage to tuck the sheets and put all the covers and pillows in the right places. But could she make bread? If she had to in order to feed Chatwyn, could she do it?
“I have an idea,” Julia said, keeping up with Brina’s fast, irritable pace.
“I probably won’t like your idea any better than I liked Sister Francine’s.”
Julia couldn’t help but smile. Brina wasn’t ready to forgive either one of them. “Maybe you won’t, but listen to me anyway.”
“I have nothing else to do while we walk to the carriage,” she said tightly.
“Let’s you and I bake bread one day.”
Brina stopped again and looked at Julia with interest but remained silent.
“I’m serious about this,” Julia said. “I’ll arrange to have Mrs. Lawton be away from the house at the school for an entire day so we can be there by ourselves.” How Julia would manage that right now, she didn’t know. “You and I will go into the kitchen and we will bake bread and make a pot of soup.”
Brina folded her arms across her chest and breathed in deeply before asking. “Do you know how?”
“I have no idea,” Julia admitted honestly. “But it can’t be that difficult, can it? You mix yeast and flour with water and put it into a pan and bake it. I know that much. After we finish, we can take the food to the school for the girls to enjoy and we’ll clean up before Mrs. Lawton returns. No one else need ever know.”
“I think I like this idea, Julia. That way I can tell Sister Francine that I might look delicate but I’m not. I know how to work and will be able to do my share.”
“Yes,” Julia agreed, feeling quite pleased with herself for coming up with such a good plan. “You can tell Sister Francine that you have actually baked bread and cooked soup.”
“Yes,” Brina said, sounding more excited than ever. “We’ll make chicken soup. That will be delicious for the girls and it must be easy. You just drop a chicken in water and boil it and add some potatoes. Right?”
Julia’s stomach roiled. She cared too much for animals to think about eating meat or fowl of any kind. Occasionally, she would indulge in fish or other delicacies that came from the sea. The thought of cooking a chicken—well—no—not even for her friend.
Brina must have realized Julia’s hesitation. “I forgot that you don’t eat—never mind about the chicken. I don’t know where we would get one anyway. We’ll make vegetable and root soup. We should find plenty of those in the kitchen’s cupboard and larder.”
“Yes,” Julia said, thankful that was settled. “Vegetable soup sounds much better.”
Brina’s smile returned. “Thank you, Julia. You are the dearest friend. This is the perfect solution to my problem.”
“We’ll make sure you can do this before you go back for another meeting with Sister Francine. I want you to make the best decision for you.”
The two fell silent as they walked. There was much for both of them to think about. Julia wasn’t immune to the struggles of Brina’s dilemma. It was as real as Julia’s with the duke, Mr. Pratt, and Garrett.
Garrett.
Her breaths quickened. She remembered in detail every touch, every taste, and every sound they’d made when he held her so tightly and they kissed so passionately. He’d made her ravenous for his touch. When she was in his arms she felt as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go.
Suddenly Julia blinked against the dry air. She used to think of a man’s touch, but now she thought of Garrett’s touch.
Chapter 15
“Good afternoon, Mr. Ashfield.” Garrett took off his hat and gloves and laid them on the table. The first thing he noticed upon entering was that Urswick’s assistant had added a painting to one of the walls, just as Garrett had asked. It was a ship with full sails gliding on calm waters, the beautiful and peaceful colors of early morning sunrise breaking across the sky behind it.