We wound up staying at Abbott’s for almost a week. Tommy seemed to have regained his land legs quite quickly, but it took me a few days longer.
Finally we were able to leave for the London town house.
Although his older brother, who had inherited the title and the properties, was not in residence just then, the house was fully staffed, and the servants greeted Tommy as if he were the prodigal son. The cook fussed over him and laid out a feast that tempted even my still-flagging appetite.
Mrs. Johnson, the housekeeper, led me to a spacious room and handed me a spare nightshirt and dressing gown of Tommy’s. “Now, just you get changed, Mr Sayer. Then you can give me your things, and I’ll see they’re washed and mended by morning.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
She blushed. “Shall
