They were down to eating the dogs now in London, and the rats. The royal household was faring no better, for the sacks of grain were almost emptied; a thin and watery porridge, bolstered by the last of the stored root vegetables, was a diet Emma was beginning to detest. The start of a thaw had no...
Pamela called again to Tiola, and retraced her steps, the old dog happy to potter at her side. “My dear, are you well?” Pamela asked, concerned, as she approached. “You look pale.” The returned smile was one of reassurance, despite the troubled feeling that hung like yesterday’s porridge in the p...