Tree
He had always been surrounded by strong women. First his mother, who oversaw a nobleman’s estate with charm, skill, and prudence. Then his sisters, married to men who were advantageous and kind but not beloved. Then Katrina, caring for dying men in conditions that made male doctors blanch and gulp whisky. And now the Mills sisters, who were in some ways very different but in many others very much alike. All reminded him of his mother’s words: “A good woman is like a tree, Ichabod. She may bend in a storm, but her roots are deep. Never underestimate her strength.”