Terri Brisbin by The Duchesss Next Husband

and an inn. Adrian would walk the short distance to the cottage of Mrs. Gresham. He’d sent word ahead so she would be there.
    She pulled the door open as soon as he reached it, and Adrian found he needed to stoop over to enter. Once inside, he greeted her.
    “Your Grace,” she answered with a curtsy. “This is my granddaughter, Annabelle. She helps me with my gardens and my herbs.” The girl appeared to be about ten and six, and she curtsied, as well. “If you have no objections, Your Grace, I would like her to hear your symptoms, since she aids me in my work. Her discretion can be trusted.”
    He nodded and took the seat offered to him. Mrs. Gresham began asking him questions and, before he realized it, nigh on an hour had passed. Adrian could tell that she did not favor the practice of bleeding a patient, nor cupping. She frowned, shook her head and tskedwhen he mentioned how many times those procedures had been applied to him. The two women consulted together and looked over the newest prescriptions from the physicians before making their recommendations to him.
    “This first one is fine, Your Grace, but I would suggest ignoring the other two,” Mrs. Gresham began as she handed the doctor’s note back to him. “Instead, try these as a tea—boil the water and steep three crushed leaves for each cup. Two to three times a day. The trick of this is to prevent the lung spasms from occurring and causing further damage.”
    Her granddaughter handed him several paper-wrapped packages as the older woman explained each one. “This one—add this to a good brandy or a licorice liquor and sip it when the worst of the spasms are upon you. No more than three-fingers deep in one of your fancy snifters at one time. Have your man make a small amount of it ahead for when you need it.
    “This one should help your sleep,” she added.
    “Laudanum?” He held up the small dark glass bottle and peered into it.
    “No, Your Grace. Laudanum is something to be used with extreme care and only occasionally. This is the extract of an herb I have found helpful in inducing a healthy, deep sleep.”
    He listened carefully to the instructions, including those about his daily schedule, his diet and exercise, and the avoidance of certain substances and animals. Mrs. Gresham gave well-formed opinions and reasons for each recommendation she made. She suggested leaving the city before the worst of the summer heat was upon it, making the air not only soot-filled but overheated, as well. And she agreed with the doctors’ suggestion of taking the waters at Bath as a way to invigorate his breathing and to ease the tightness in his chest.
    He waited to ask the most important question until the end. Adrian stood to leave when they finished giving him advice.
    “The physicians made a rather dire prediction. Would you agree with it?”
    “Dire, Your Grace?” Mrs. Gresham stood and walked with him to the door. “What was their pronouncement?”
    “That the condition has significantly deteriorated and my death may be approaching.” He tried to sound calm about it, but this was the first time he’d spoken of it to anyone. “In less than a year’s time.”
    The woman reached out and patted his hand as she probably did to anyone in her family or her neighbors in need of comfort. Certainly it was a first for him. “Your Grace, they have been monitoring your condition for some years, so I would not discount their observations. There is always hope that your condition may change. These herbs and suggestions will, at the least, relieve some of the symptoms that cause you such difficulty.”
    He reached into his pocket and lifted out a small purse. It contained several pounds, not the same amount the doctors charged him, but close. If her advice worked,it was worth anything he had. “For your time and trouble, Mrs. Gresham.”
    “Oh, no, Your Grace, I could not accept your coins.” She backed away as though the purse were on fire.
    “Use it to