“I have just come from Miss Anna. She wishes to see you urgently. She did not say why, but I suspect there has been some sort of horrible mishap. Can you go to her now?”
Harry cast a glance at the vet. “Can you stay with Doctor Carson until he is finished? I will go right now.”
“Yes, I can stay.”
As Harry mounted his horse, he asked. “Do you have any idea what might be wrong?”
“All I can think is that perhaps Dorothy has become ill again. But the way Anna looked, I suspect it might be more serious than that.”
Harry gave a grim nod and rode off.
* * *
Anna was sitting on the edge of Dorothy’s bed with her hand on her sister’s back. Dorothy was face down—her face buried in a pillow, crying.
“My dear sister, try and calm yourself. I know you are grieving, but there is a great deal we need to discuss.”
“How can I?” she wailed. “Father is gone—forever.”
“Yes, I know, but we are living. and we need to make arrangements.”
“You do that. I cannot.”
“Please, Dorothy, do not put the whole burden on me. We need to make these decisions together. And there is something else that is very important I need to tell you. You left before Lord Hargrove told me the rest of the news.”
Dorothy turned her head to look at Anna, and expected even worse bad news. “What?”
“Father was very wealthy, and he has left us very handsomely off—financially.”
That caught Dorothy’s attention and she sat up and faced Anna.
“How handsome?” she asked wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“There is one hundred thousand pounds in insurance and a large number of shares in the East India Company. I do not know the value of those yet.”
Dorothy gasped. “Then we shall have a great deal of money to bring to a marriage.”
“Yes, I expect so,” Anna said with the first smile she had given in some time.
“I cannot wait to tell Christopher,” Dorothy said getting off the bed and going to her dressing table to examine her red eyes.
“Mr. Christopher was here earlier but you were indisposed, so I sent him to fetch Maria or Harry. I very much need their advice.”
“You sent him away?”
“This is not the moment for a romantic tryst, Dorothy.”
“But he is only to be here a few more days. I want to see him,” she said a little angrily.
“Dear sister, we have more important issues right now. We need to arrange some sort of a service for father, we need to inform the staff, we must contact the family solicitor, we must acquire mourning clothing… there is so much to do.”
Dorothy turned to Anna, horrified. “Mourning? We must wear black?”
“You know we must.”
Dorothy started crying again. “I shall look like a widow.”
“It need only be for six months or so.”
