Page 46 of A Bluestocking’s Secret Courtship

“You will be a wonderful mother,” she murmured. “I mean it sincerely. You have always taken great care of Sophia and me.”

“I’m not much help to anyone now. I hope you will forgive me.” Regina cupped Evangeline’s hand between her own, her eyes pleading. Was she seeking absolution for loving her husband and starting a family? It was too much, this sense of responsibility her sister carried.

“You have your hands full at the moment,” Evangeline said, “and everyone can take care of themselves.”

“I know, but you were counting on joining Uncle Charles and⁠—”

“Stop. It is my turn to take care of you, and you have been sick, even if it isn’t with a mysterious illness.”

“A silver lining to be sure.” Regina smiled weakly and closed her eyes, dissolving against the pillow. “Ludwig! This nausea comes from nowhere.”

“You rest while I speak with Lord Dominic’s cook. I will have her make a restorative broth.”

Regina opened one eye to peek at her. “The kind Joy makes?”

Joy, their loyal lady’s maid back home, had a gift for healing. Fortunately, Evangeline’s curiosity had driven her to the kitchen on several occasions to watch Joy work her magic.

“If that is your wish,” Evangeline said, “but it won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t turn down a broth.”

“If I didn’t know better, Gigi, I might think you are actually allowing me to care for you.”

“Now you know how miserable I feel. Did you cancel your outing with Sir Jonathan?”

“He must have been called away. It’s for the best. You need me.”

“I do not,” Regina grumbled playfully. “But since you are insisting…”

“I am.” Evangeline bent forward to place a quick peck on her sister’s cheek. “Rest. If I catch you out of this bed, we are sparring, and you won’t win this time.”

Regina rolled her eyes. They both knew Evangeline was bluffing, but her sister didn’t kick up a fuss.

A trip to the kitchen, a smaller building at the back of the courtyard, confirmed what Evangeline expected. She needed to visit the market for ingredients.

She turned to the English butler who had come along to translate. “May I ask Leda to accompany me? I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

Mr. Wilcox relayed her request.

“Mrs. Georgiou says it is not an inconvenience, miss.” He pronounced her name the proper Greek way—yor-YEE-oo. “Do you require further assistance?”

“No, Mr. Wilcox. Thank you.”

The cook rattled off an order to a small boy that Evangeline suspected was her son. In the early morning, when the household was quiet, she would often make her way to the kitchen to request tea and Taavetti was always underfoot. The dark-haired cherub stopped in front of Evangeline, tugged her skirts, and gazed up at her with wide ebony eyes.

“Karaméla?”

Evangeline laughed as she pulled a tin of lemon barley sugar candies from her pocket and held it out to him. The first time she visited the kitchen, his mother had granted her permission to offer him one of the hard candies Evangeline had brought from home. Now she didn’t dare show up without a sweet treat for the little boy.

“This is extortion, Taavetti.”

He nodded and said yes with a cheeky grin that made her wonder if he understood more English than she thought. After returning the tin, he popped the candy in his mouth and skipped out the door.

His mother barked at him, and he slowed his step. She slanted a smile at Evangeline, returning to scaling a large sea bass.

Evangeline thanked the cook for sending for the maid and went to her bedchamber to wait. When Leda was taking longer than usual to respond to her summons, she threw open the French doors and stepped into the garden to see if Taavetti had become distracted from his mission. The courtyard was empty. A heartbeat later, Leda slipped through the gate, entering the garden with eyes downcast. The maid startled when she lifted her head and discovered Evangeline watching. A blush darkened her tawny cheeks.

“Goodness, Leda,” she said lightly, certain the lady’s maid had been up to some minor mischief. “You’re no better at hiding your guilt than I am.”