“...if she has, I need to find it, but between her dashed nurse and lady’s maid, there is almost always someone with her.”
“There are ... things ... I need to find in there too.”
“Let’s work together. Surely between us, we can manage it. We’ve always been good together, haven’t we, Kat? And we can be again, after she—”
“Don’t speak of that.”
“We both have a lot to lose. And a lot to gain.”
“You more than I.”
“Perhaps financially. But in matters of the heart...”
Katherine snorted. “What do you know of hearts?”
“I know yours. And I know when she is not here to forbid you any longer, you can marry whomever you like.”
Was there really something between him and Katherine, Anne wondered, or did he refer to another man?
“You really do have the most inflated view of your charms, Jude,” Katherine said. “Be careful. One word to Mamma of this and she will disinherit you tomorrow. If she has not already.”
At that, Anne tiptoed away and continued belowstairs for the promised milk and biscuits, concluding that any romantic inclinations were on his side alone.
18
On Monday morning, while Rosa was busy with Lady Celia, Anne walked to the poorhouse to deliver the stockings Miss Lotty had knit for the residents.
Mrs. Burdock, the keeper’s wife, accepted the offering with a warm, gap-toothed smile.
“Do thank her for me,” she said. “And a pleasure to meet you, Miss Loveday. Any friend of Miss Newland’s is a friend to all of us here. In fact, another friend of hers is here now. Dr. Finch? Came to look at a rash on the Jones boy and stayed to read to the children.”
“Really? How kind.”
Mrs. Burdock nodded. “They’re in the schoolroom now. Come and see.” The woman led the way to the door of a small room containing a desk and wall slate. Dr. Finch was sitting on an old wooden chair with children gathered on the floor around him. Anne listened with surprised delight as he read from a book of fairy tales.
She quickly recognized the tale as Perrault’sTheMaster Cat;or,Puss in Boots. Anne had read it to her half sister Matty more than once. The story was about a miller with three sons. The eldest inherited his mill, the second his donkey,and the youngest nothing but the cat. The poor young man despaired of his future, but through a series of cunning tricks, the cat soon made them both rich.
Looking at the little faces listening to Dr. Finch in rapt attention, Anne leaned near the keeper’s wife and whispered, “They’re all so young.”
Mrs. Burdock nodded and whispered back, “The older ones are apprenticed to weavers and such like. The able-bodied men go out to work and the women clean or mend.”
Dr. Finch raised his voice to a high feline pitch as he read the part of the cat. “‘Do not be so concerned, my good master. If you will but give me a bag, and have a pair of boots made for me, that I may scamper through the dirt and the brambles, then you shall see that you are not so poorly off with me as you imagine.’”
The children giggled, and Anne couldn’t help joining them.
Dr. Finch looked up, and noticing her, his face immediately reddened. “Oh, em. Just a little fun.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Anne said. “Do go on.”
“Never mind. We’ll read the rest another time, children.”
This was met with a chorus of groans.
“No, no.” Anne insisted. “You must finish. This one has a happy ending.”
“Very well.”
He read the rest of the short story, although he curbed the funny voices, ending with “‘The cat became a great lord, and never again ran after mice, except for entertainment. The end.’”
