He levelled her with a stare and sighed. ‘I know we had an agreement. You are free to fill your rooms with tat and spend as much as you like on the garden – to fraternise with your little friends and even educate my daughters when you think I don’t notice. All I ask, is that you do your duty as my wife in public and do not endanger my political relationships.’ He stared at her, unwavering until she had to finally take a breath and look away. ‘Is that too much to ask?’ he said.
She shook her head, not trusting her voice to remain steady.
‘You may go,’ he said, and motioned for her to leave.
Chapter 22
April 1765
Thea smiled as she watched Annie supervising Frankie writing a plant label in the glasshouse. It was a warm April, and the sun sparkled off the glass and highlighted the tips of the maturing seedlings which seemed to be everywhere. The warmth and the green calmed her, almost without fail.
‘Good morning,’ she said, making her presence known. Annie smiled up at her, but Frankie was intent on her writing.
‘Good morning, Your Grace,’ said Annie. ‘The children are off with Mr Fenwick and Mr Crumpacker, counting tree species in the upper east field.’
Thea smiled. Crumpacker was even starting to warm up to the children, and they loved him because he was so honest and didn’t try to fob them off with children-speak. ‘Excellent,’ she said.
‘How are you, Annie?’ She wondered if she would ever be able to encourage her to open up about the thing with Sanders. ‘Enjoying the spring?’
‘Very much so, Your Grace,’ said Annie, but didn’t elaborate.
‘Mmm,’ said Thea, not sure how to push her further without seeming obvious. She looked around for something to inspire her. ‘Lord,’ she said, as she spied something slimy atop one of the pots on the raised surface. ‘What on earth...?’ She moved over to have a closer look and motioned Annie to join her. ‘Does this look…?’ She peered closer but then drew back as she realised it was looking at her.
‘Sheep’s eyeball,’ said Frankie, peering over their shoulders. ‘Next on the list of things to try. Got it from the farmer in Grey’s Lane – in fact, I have a few more in the shed…’
Thea thought she might have gone on, but there was a sort of slithering noise and a soft thud, and Annie was out cold on the floor.
Annie wasn’t large by any means, but it had still taken Thea, Frankie and Martha to help her back into the nursery and on to the couch. They could have called for some of the staff to help, but Thea wanted to ensure they were gentle – just in case. Frankie mopped Annie’s forehead with a muslin she had just dipped in the pail of water by her side.
‘My word, I am sorry,’ said Annie, bringing her hands to her face as she came around. ‘I hate to be a trouble.’
‘You aren’t,’ said Thea reassuringly. ‘Sheep’s eyeballs would do that to anyone.’ She gave Frankie a slightly admonishing look.
‘Sheep’s eyeballs?’ asked Martha, but quickly stopped when Annie went a little green again and lay back against the arm. Thea gave her a quizzical look, and Annie only turned her head to look at the wall.
‘Lady Foxmore,’ said Thea. ‘I wonder if you would like to take Frankie to the library and perhaps look for a few, moreconventional seed treatments?’ She gave Martha a look which she hoped communicated her intent. Martha understood.
‘Excellent idea,’ she said, clapping her hands. But then she scowled at Frankie, remembering her irrational but stubborn dislike. ‘Come on,’ she said grumpily.
‘But,’ said Frankie, looking back at Annie, but Martha had already grasped her upper arm and was manoeuvring her out of the door.
Thea settled next to Annie on one of the children’s tiny chairs. She mopped her forehead with the cool water until Annie gained a little more colour. When she was sure the governess wasn’t going to faint again, she sought to address the subject.
‘Frankie mentioned you had been feeling a little off in the mornings,’ she said gently.
Annie nodded meekly. ‘A little, but I think it’s getting better.’
‘Would you like me to call for Doctor Ennis?’ she asked. Annie shook her head. Seeing that Annie wasn’t going to voluntarily give up information, she tried a different tack. ‘I was awfully ill in the mornings when I had Samantha,’ she said, watching for Annie’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. ‘And a little with Edward, but it was fine with Abigail. Funny really, with what a menace she is now she’s here.’ She looked back at Annie and smiled. Annie caught her breath.
‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,’ said Thea, taking Annie’s hand and squeezing it. ‘But I am happy to help, and we can get the doctor for you if needed. We could even go up to London to see Doctor Speckle if you don’t wish for it to be known down here, or call for him to visit.’
Annie took a shaky breath. ‘Aren’t you cross?’
‘Of course I’m not cross. This isn’t your fault, Annie.’
Annie looked away again. ‘No, it isn’t.’ There was something in her tone that gave Thea pause.
‘Annie?’ She saw Annie swallow and tears pricked her eyes. ‘Annie,’ she said again, as softly as she could manage given the rising alarm in her throat. ‘You did want… what happened… didn’t you?’ Annie swallowed again, and then so did Thea. ‘I mean, you did agree to it?’
