Scarlett quickly supports me. “Back to your room. You can strike things later.”
Acquiescing, I take her arm. Halfway down the corridor, I ask, “What did you put in my tea? What is it supposed to do? I have energy, but I’m still weak.”
“Herbs are to improve your health. The green tea helps with mental clarity. Nettle fights fatigue, and some say it can rejuvenate the blood. Rosemary aids circulation, and ginseng for stamina.”
“Can you add something for appetite? Katherine says she likes me thick.”
“Thick, as in thicker?” Scarlett colors. Maybe the translation isn’t quite right.
“You’re a woman. You must know what she means bythick.” I flex my arm. “Thick.”
“Oh, I know, alright.” She nods. Her cheeks burn. “I’ll add wormwood, fennel, and angelica. These herbs can warm the blood and stir passions. But let me know if there are any unintended consequences.”
What could be the consequences of having an appetite? “I want to be thick for her.”
“Yesss. One of those will do that.” She holds my door. “You and my sister have been getting along, if you’ve had these discussions.”
“I thought so, Scarlett, but she’s keeping secrets again. I’ve heard nothing about the Palmerses’ complaints. She comes to me every night … to read. She should’ve told me.”
Now Scarlett folds her arms. “Why would she want to talk about awfulness when you two arereading?”
“She could stop. I’m patient. She can pick back up.”
Scarlett shakes her head; her light olive complexion is now cherry red. Ringlet curls jiggle close to her chin. “I’ll have the new tea ready tonight. It sounds as if it has much work to do. It may help you focus. I think you need to focus.” Her head turns from side to side as she walks away.
Why does it feel like we’ve just had two different conversations?
Doesn’t matter.
Steele will discover what’s happening and help me stop the greedy Palmerses whether my mistress wishes for my assistance or not.
Chapter 22
KATHERINE—ANOTHERHORRIBLE, NOGOODDAY
The sun begins to set as I finally arrive at Anya House. Today has been one of the worst in my life. That’s not an easy thing to admit, given that two weeks ago, Jahleel almost died thinking I hated him, and then I watched my daughter cry and say she wanted me banished.
Today shows me again that I care about my reputation. Yet I’ll pretend all is well. I don’t know how to stop pretending that I don’t matter.
My horse slows, then stops. I look at the mournful chrysanthemums waving at us. They laugh at me creeping into Anya House. My jittery stomach turns as a groom steadies my chocolate mare.
Another servant comes for the reins. Both move about their duties, noticing the egg stains along the dray’s walls.
The younger one helps me down. This time, his eyes grow wide at the yellow spot on my carriage dress. His mouth twitches. He manages to ask, “Are you alright, Lady Hampton?”
The lacy scarf I pull over the biggest stain does a poor job and blocks none of the rotten-egg smell. “I’m fine, sir. Just a little trouble today. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Both servants look aghast. “Lady Hampton,” the young man says. “Would you like the dray cleaned in the coach house?”
Would I ever. I nod and try to find my most elegant voice. “To be sure, I had a little mishap, but all is well. Have no concerns.” I lift my head. “Thank you.”
I saunter past them, past the haunting chrysanthemums that say my days shall be filled with mourning and enter Anya House.
Servants move about their duties. I act like nothing is wrong and step onto the grand stairs.
“Lady Hampton?”
Mr. Steele’s deeply proud tone stops me. “Ma’am, long day today?”
