Instead, Lady Celia turned a suspicious glare on her. “How long have you known?”
“I only recently found out,” Anne said, chagrined. “When you sent Rosa to Gloucester, Dr. Finch asked for my help with the child. That’s when I realized who Robbie’s mother was.”
“Humph. Well, at least I was not the only one taken in.”
In a small, pitiful voice, Rosa said, “Again, I am sorr—”
“Yes, yes.” Lady Celia cut her off. “So you’ve said. Very well, you’ve said your piece, now leave me in peace to think it through.”
“Shall I leave ... for good?” Rosa asked.
“Not yet,” Lady Celia snapped. “I may still need you—both of you.” She glared at her again. “Is your name really Rosa?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Well, that’s something.” She huffed. “You said you didn’t tell Jude about the child, correct? What about Jasper and Katherine, do they know about all this?”
“Not from me, no.”
“Good. Let’s keep it between us for the present. Now. Rosa, you go and spend some time with that child of yours, but return first thing in the morning. Anne, bring me the writing box, and then lock the door so I am not disturbed.”
The two younger women shared looks of surprise and uncertainty, then hurried to do as Lady Celia bid.
As requested, Rosa returned early the next morning. When she entered the room, Lady Celia sat up in bed and asked Rosa to help her wash and change into a day dress rather than nightclothes. She wore a look of calm resolve and determination.
Anne went down for the woman’s breakfast tray. When she returned, she heard Lady Celia saying, “I am afraid you won’t do, Rosa. I’ll need someone else.”
Oh no. Poor Rosa.She planned to give up the position soon anyway, but to be judged unfit and abruptly dismissed?
When Anne peeked into the dressing room, however, she found Rosa contentedly arranging the woman’s hair.
Seeing her, Lady Celia said, “Ah, Anne. Leave the tray. Rosa can help me with that. I have something else for you to do.”
Together they helped the older woman back to her made bed and settled a lap rug over her.
Then Lady Celia looked up at Anne. “Please go and ask Mr. Strong to come and call on me at ... let’s say, four. And ask Mrs. Pratt to come up at the same time. She will do.”
“Happily. What reason shall I give them?”
“Need I give a reason to speak to my parish priest andcook-housekeeper?” For a moment, the woman’s eyes flashed, and then she relented. “If you must know, I want them to witness my new will.”
“Ah.” It made sense, Anne supposed. Who better to act as witnesses than a clergyman and a trusted retainer? “I will go now. Shall I take Louie too? He’ll be wanting to go out soon.”
“Yes, yes. Please do.”
After retrieving the lead, Anne opened the bedchamber door to depart on her errands and found Mr. Dalby standing there, clearly trying to eavesdrop.
His green gaze flicked around the room, taking in his aunt’s state of dress, and Rosa and Anne bustling about in her service.
“My, my. Such industry,” he said. “Why all the flutter?”
“Only expecting a few callers,” his aunt said. “These two are helping me prepare, that’s all.”
“Is it? In that case, anything I can do?”
“I think you’ve done quite enough already,” Lady Celia replied. Their gazes caught and held, challenge and knowing sparking in their dueling depths.
Jude Dalby looked away first. “Well then, don’t let me get in your way.”
