Rosa went on. “When I first arrived, I hoped your aunt would come to like me, so she would approve of a marriage between us. I also hoped to become reacquainted with you when you happened to visit. I did not know you planned to move back to Painswick Court. At first I was thrilled, but now I’ve come to care for Lady Celia and care nothing at all about you.”
Looking through the crack between wall and hinges, Anne saw Mr. Dalby cross his arms over his chest.
“So you admit your little plot has failed. I suppose Dr. Finch was in on it too? I barely looked at the man initially, him not being female, but then I remembered seeing him with you in Cheltenham. You have both wasted your time here.”
“No. My time has not been wasted. For being here with you has cured me. I never thought to get over you, yet I find I’m quite recovered. The romantic fantasy has lifted like mist, and now I see who you really are. And I loathe you.”
Mr. Dalby reached for her, but she pulled away from his grasp.
“Rosa ... wait,” he entreated, sounding almost hurt.
Perhaps it was the first time in his life he had been spurned by a woman. Or perhaps he was merely afraid of what she might tell his aunt.
“I’ve waited long enough. Good-bye, Mr. Dalby.” Rosa stalked away, disappearing from view.
Anne watched the man stand there for a moment, staringafter Rosa, and then he turned and retreated through his dressing room door.
For the next few hours, Anne worried about Rosa as she carried out her tasks, wondering why the girl continued to tempt fate by putting herself in Mr. Dalby’s path, even in his very bedchamber.
Soon, however, Anne learned Rosa had an altogether different motive for having entered the man’s room.
From the alcove windows, Anne saw him once again sitting on a bench watching Katherine practicing archery alone. Anne idly wondered why Jasper had not joined her.
Rosa came and stood beside her, gazing down as well, wearing a smug, expectant expression.
Suddenly Mr. Dalby rose with an odd look of panic and hurried away with none of his usual confident swagger, all but running to the outdoor privy.
He remained there for some time.
What in the world? Was he ill?
She glanced at Rosa and found her still gazing in the direction he had disappeared, a smirk on her face.
Anne recalled again hearing the girl come out of his dressing room earlier that day. Worry shot through her.
“Rosa, what did you do?”
She turned to meet Anne’s gaze and her smirk blossomed into a satisfied grin.
“Oh, I’ve learned a lot from you and Uncle Ernest. Extract of Turkey rhubarb and senna in his water pitcher. Clearly quite effective.”
Turkey rhubarb and senna were both well-known purgatives. And together? A highly potent laxative.
“Rosa...” Anne repeated, slowly shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Yet her reproof held no bite. Infact, Anne could not quite restrain the quiver of a grin on her lips.
Rosa shrugged. “He deserves far worse.”
As revenge went, it was rather mild. Though Mr. Dalby would be unpleasantly occupied for some time.
Anne took a deep breath. “Very well. You’ve made him suffer with the rhubarb and senna. Let that be enough.”
Rosa shook her head. “It’s not enough. Not even close.”
19
Late that afternoon, Dr. Finch stopped by to look in on Lady Celia. After examining the patient, listening to her heart, and gauging her pulse and level of swelling, he pronounced himself encouraged by Lady Celia’s progress.
“Well done, my lady.”
