An Honest Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

grandstands that would flank either side of the stage from which Queen Victoria would proclaim the Great Exhibition officially open. Of course, joining the Carmichaels in their box would be tantamount to proclaiming an engagement.
    But she had more than a month between now and then to settle the matter—to see if she could win back Lord Thynne from her cousin. Or to at least keep Katharine from becoming Lady Thynne and a viscountess while Edith settled for becoming a mere baroness. And that would not happen soon, for Baron Carmichael was healthy and robust and did not seem likely to be giving up the title to his son within the next twenty years. She would not be calling that American upstart my lady for years before being addressed thusly herself.
    A slow smile spread across her face as Mr. Carmichael rose to take another turn at the game. Fortunately, Edith had the foresight to notice Katharine’s interest in the man Papa had hired to redesign the gardens and set one of the maids to follow Katharine and report on her doings. And one of those doings had been a clandestine meeting with that man in the garden folly two weeks ago. But as that had been before Lord Thynne had officially begun courting Katharine, Edith had not yet shared that knowledge.
    She would wait. Eventually, the American would do something that Edith could use to engineer her downfall. It was just a matter of time.

    Neal stacked four stoneware plates on the shelf. Not being particularly adept at carpentry, he hoped the thing would hold. Three tin cups and two bowls joined the plates, followed by four teacups and saucers, the only luxury items he had brought with him from Grandmamma’s house. The rest he had left in place for the young couple now letting the farm.
    A banging on the door interrupted setting up his kitchen. He rolled his sleeves down and buttoned the cuffs before opening the door.
    “Are you the doc?” A young man—who looked barely old enough to shave—twisted a felt cap in grubby hands.
    “I am.”
    “My ma’s trying to birth a baby, but it won’t come. The midwife said to fetch the doc. Can you come?”
    “Of course. Let me get my bag and I will be right along with you.”
    Carrying a candle into the small room he’d designated an office, Neal checked his medical bag to ensure he had all the equipment he might need for a difficult birth. He shrugged into his long coat, not worrying with a frock or waistcoat, then followed the boy out into the night.
    He’d yet to hang a shingle or to let his neighbors know who he was—other than the Howells and the Bainbridges. But, like the small town where he’d lived with his grandmother since age twelve, North Parade and the adjacent community of Jericho must not be a place where many secrets could be kept.
    He sighed. He’d hoped moving to Oxford would help shield him from anyone finding out about his background. Hopefully, the committeemen would be unable to find him here, leaving all communication on his side.
    Following the lad down North Parade Avenue, Neal looked up to his right. The lowest floor of the redbrick storefront was dark, but windows in the three floors above revealed life went on over the seamstress’s shop. His right hand tingled from the memory of shaking hands with Miss Bainbridge. He stretched his fingers and then curled them into a tight fist to rid himself of the sensation. He knew nothing about her save the facts that she was a seamstress and she was passably pretty. And her mother suffered a weak heart—something that often ran in families.
    No. He sped his step to catch up with the lad hurrying ahead of him down the darkened street. The last time he’d risked his affection on a passably pretty young woman, when part of the truth of his origins became known she’d sent her brothers to warn him away from ever coming within sight of her again. It hadn’t taken long for his patients to stop calling on him and for his income to dwindle to nothing.
    Thus his