What of Bates? The conversation with his mentor yesterday had replayed in his head a dozen times since he’d ridden away from Shoreditch. Bates was in dire need of a new partner in order to keep the dispensary open. The work and the logistics of the mission were too great for one man to shoulder alone. That had been clear enough yesterday with both of them needed to treat all the patients.

But surely his old friend would understand he wasn’t meant for the job, at least not now. Bates had to know Joseph wasn’t ready to live in London permanently.

The very thought of returning home every night to the empty hallways and silent rooms of Arlington House draped a dismal veil across Joseph’s heart every bit as ghastly as the coverings that shrouded the mansion’s furnishings. Upon his return to London, the few servants who remained at Arlington House had begun the process of opening up rooms and removing the coverings. But he’d stopped them and instructed them to leave things as they were.

He hadn’t told them he had no desire to use any of the rooms in the house, that he’d rather be anywhere but in his childhood home. Now, confronted with the possibility of leaving again, he couldn’t deny his wish to get away. Far away.

“I’d be honored and obliged to have you as part of my crew.” Captain Hellyer finally said the words he’d been leading up to.

Joseph met the captain’s gaze and realized the conversation was more than simply crossing a bridge. It was an invitation to another journey, a journey he couldn’t wait to begin.

four

Mercy stood in the long line of tenants waiting for a turn at the water spigot at the back of the building. The house agent switched on the water only once every other day and only for thirty minutes, hardly enough time for everyone to fill their buckets and pots. Still, Mercy made a point of getting her family’s share every opportunity she could.

With the blackened pot in one hand, Mercy adjusted the tiny squirming bundle in her other arm, sweet baby Paul, her newest sibling. At two weeks old, he was plump and rosy-cheeked and could squall louder than a hungry tomcat. All good signs he was thriving, all the more reason not to complain about the extra work, and all reminders to be grateful and pray he’d survive longer than the last babe.

“Hold tight to my skirt, Charity,” Mercy admonished her youngest sister. “And stop splashing in the dirty water, d’ye hear me?”