The girl swallowed. “Just wanted a cup of milk. But I don’t need—”
“Never mind. Take it and go.”
When the maid scurried off, the cook lifted the pot. “Don’t worry, miss. Don’t know how it happened, but I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’ll dispose of the remaining soup and this broth right now and see that Kezia scours both vessels with lye and sand. And I’ll make a fresh batch of broth myself.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Pratt. That will relieve my mind.”
Despite her words, when Anne left the kitchen a short while later with a glass of lemon-barley water for Lady Celia, her mind remained anxious. Had it really been an accident or had someone purposely put shellfish into a frail woman’s beef broth? Who would do that, and why?
9
Anne rose early the next morning after little sleep to see how Lady Celia was faring.
“Thirsty,” the woman murmured in reply.
Anne slipped on shoes and buttoned a long pelisse over her nightclothes, not bothering to fully dress or tidy her hair before going downstairs for Lady Celia’s breakfast tray and beverages for her thirst.
When she returned, Louie circled her feet, tail wagging. Lady Celia sipped gingerly at the black tea with milk and the lemon-barley water but refused even a spoonful of gruel, although Anne assured her there was nothing wrong with the food and that Mrs. Pratt had prepared the gruel herself.
“You must eat as well as drink to keep up your strength,” Anne said.
“Not yet. My stomach is still unwell.” She lay back on the pillows, face pinched with weariness and discomfort. “But please do take Louie out, if you would, and see that he is fed.”
“Of course.”
Having sewing to do, Rosa promised to stay within calling distance should Lady Celia need anything.
Anne thanked her, clipped a lead to the dog’s collar, and slid it around her wrist so she could manage the tray. She carried the untouched food back to the kitchen before taking Louie outside for a walk around the grounds. The dog eagerly sniffed the grass and trees and strained against the lead whenever a squirrel scampered past.
Colonel Paine came strolling toward Painswick Court, fish basket strapped over his shoulder and rod in hand.
Anne immediately felt self-conscious to be seen in such a state. Her hair still hung over her shoulder in a long plait, with strands beginning to unravel and blow around her face. Worse yet, her nightdress hem showed from beneath her pelisse, wet from the morning dew and probably dirty as well.
She was tempted to slip in through the side door and dress properly before encountering anyone else. After all, a nurse was supposed to maintaina clean,neat appearance.
The dog barked, and Colonel Paine looked over and waved.
There was nothing for it. She could not return to the house without stopping to greet him.
“Anne, good morning.”
“Good morning, Colonel.”
“Jasper, remember. We are old friends, are we not?”
Pleasure warmed her despite her self-consciousness. “We are.”
“You are out and about early.”
“Yes, Lady Celia asked me to take Louie outside. I have not had time to tidy my hair. I no doubt look a fright.”
“Not at all. You look remarkably well. Your color has been heightened by the fresh air, and your eyes brightened by the exercise.”
Anne looked down, fearing her cheeks were growing more colorful—or at least red—by the second.
With his free hand, he reached over and tucked a windblown strand of hair behind her ear.
She glanced up in surprise, and noticed his expression change, and his own face redden.
