June 11th, 1816

The rain had finally cleared, and the crops were devastated.  Samuel and Caroline were having a discussion in hushed tones at the dining table, while Jenny bit her nails by the fire on the other side of the room, sewing miserably, her eyes secretly fixed on Elsie and Dr. Larson.  She scowled to see his hand covertly resting on her knee, when he thought that everyone was too busy to notice.

“Elsie,” said Jenny abruptly.  She couldn’t help but smirk when she saw Dr. Larson frantically jerk his hand away.  “Since the rain’s stopped, do you want to go to the Cliffs?  To work on your poems?”  She saw that Elsie had been fruitlessly tapping her quill against her page.  She only seemed really able to write when she was outside.

Elsie smiled as Dr. Larson frowned.  “I’m not sure that would be very wise,” he said.  “It’s still very cold and wet; you’d both surely come back ill.”

Jenny held back an aggravated sigh.  “We’re sturdier than we look.”

“Still.  I’m not sure it would be advisable to go off on your own either.  What with the riots.  Besides, the Cliffs are dangerous as well.”

Jenny did sigh this time.  “I’ve been visiting the Cliffs by myself since I was a child.  And I’m certainly not afraid of the people in my own village.  The only danger would be pitching yourself off the Cliffs, if you were foolish enough to do that.”

“Yes, well—”

“Frederick,” said Elsie in a quiet voice, “I wouldn’t do that.”

Dr. Larson started at the use of his Christian name in front of Jenny.  “She knows,” Elsie whispered.

Dr. Larson gawked at her.  “Why—why would you tell—”

“I trust her,” said Elsie simply.

“But that isn’t reason to—” He stared at Jenny fearfully, as she smiled back smugly.  “Elsie, you’ve put us in a great deal of danger,” he hissed, his eyes fixed on Samuel and Caroline, who were ignorant of their conversation.

Wrong, Jenny thought.  She’s put you in a great deal of danger.  If things got out, whose side do you think I’d take?

“Jenny won’t tell anyone,” Elsie said.  Dr. Larson sighed, and Elsie bit her lip and looked down.

“So,” said Jenny, “we’ll be going to the Cliffs of Moher?”

Dr. Larson laughed, loudly enough to disrupt Samuel and Caroline’s intense conversation.  “As Miss Pineghast’s physician, I don’t think that it’s advisable for her to go anywhere without my direct supervision.”

Jenny’s blood turned cold.  He was punishing Elsie for telling her.  Perhaps he was even afraid she would tell Jenny more—things he didn’t want Elsie telling a soul about.  Jenny stood, her fists tight, her head pounding.  “She doesn’t have to listen to you.  Elsie can go wherever she wants to.”

Dr. Larson stood too, but his pose was not volatile like Jenny’s.  It was calculated, guarded, and assured.  “Miss Pineghast is under my care.  It is in fact my job to decide where she can go, what she can do—and who she can spend her time with.”

“That’s not f—”

“Let the girls go to the Cliffs,” said Caroline, from the kitchen table, rubbing her eyes with exhaustion.  “They’re not hurting anyone.”

Dr. Larson stuttered.  “In my expert opinion—”

“If you can do what you like and laze around all day, then surely Elizabeth can do the same.  Jenny knows the Cliffs well and they’ve both been there before.  They won’t find any trouble.  Besides,” she said, drumming her fingers against the table, “we have work to discuss and we’ll get to it quicker without you three bickering away.”

Dr. Larson quietly sat down as Elsie stood up.  She flashed him an apologetic smile which he did not return.  Instead, Dr. Larson stared ahead, stewing silently.  Elsie gathered up her papers and followed Jenny.

Samuel gave the pair a tired smile as they put on their boots and shawls.  They both went through the door, as Samuel and Caroline fell back into their conversation and Dr. Larson stormed off to his room.

Jenny let out a laugh as soon as they were out of earshot of the cottage, traipsing through the wet grass.  “Please stop,” Elsie said.

“Why?  What’s wrong?”

“I wish you wouldn’t antagonize him.  He only wants what’s best for me.”

“Oh, and keeping you cooped up with only him for company is what’s best for you?”

Elsie shrugged.  “It’s how things were at the Retreat.”

“I thought you said that the Retreat didn’t help you?”

Elsie sighed, staring up at the glassy sky.  “Yes, but he helped me.  He helps me.  Everything he does, he does because he loves me.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t get a say around him,” Jenny mumbled, kicking at a thick clump of dirt.

“I don’t know,” Elsie said softly.  “Maybe it does.”  Her voice was unmistakably resigned, and that worried Jenny more than anything she could have said.