“‘Believed superiority’? Good Lord, you almost act as if you were the lady of the house and I were no more than a common footman.”
Her back stiffened. “I’m sorry it appears that way, sir, but I refuse to be treated like a common maid,” she said, for it was the truth. Her father had never required her to work. Anne’s mother had been the one to insist that Anne at least learn how to cook, although she’d often been overruled by Andrew Barrett’s stronger personality.
Stepping around the young master, Anne prepared to return to the kitchen, but his hand shot out and he grasped her wrist, his skin warm against hers. A bolt of awareness shot through her, and Anne stumbled backward, her head hitting the door of the stall. Tears sprang to her eyes from the pain.
His voice when he spoke was weary. “Please, I’m sorry. Don’t run away again. I’ve just spent the last twelve months on a ship and have quite forgotten how to behave. I promise to leave you alone, if you’ll simply stay put for one moment.”
Rubbing her head, she gazed at him warily. This could be some kind of trick.
“What do you want?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the very devil himself.”
“Thus far you have not proven yourself otherwise,” she muttered.
“Yes, well, you’re not exactly the innocent, now, are you?”
Her head shot up at his words. “What do you mean?” Did he know she’d taken another piece of cutlery last night? She hadn’t planned on doing it, especially not after the tea incident with Master Drummond. But after that miserable supper, she knew she could never give up her plans to leave.
“I mean, you are as much at fault for our present situation as I am. In the market you attacked—”
“That’s not true! You assaulted me—” she began.
“I didn’t wield a pail,” he countered.
“I acted in self-defense.”
“You misunderstood my intentions.”
She laughed out loud at that. “I’m quite sure I did not. I might be untested, but I know enough about men like you. There was no way I would let you take me anywhere to ‘discuss’ anything.”
The young master gave her a long look. “Do I frighten you?” he asked at length.
Determined not to show him just how much, she shook her head. “No,” she lied.
“Why not?”
“Because you are not the master of this house. Your father is, and I serve him.” Though, not for much longer.
He raised one sardonic eyebrow. “And do you like serving him?”
“It does not matter whether I like it or not,” she replied.
“But you choose to remain here. You could seek a situation elsewhere, and yet you do not.”
“There is no guarantee that my next position would be an improvement,” she said.
“What if someone were to do just that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Promise you that if you left here, your life would be greatly improved.”
Anne shifted, uncomfortable with his line of questioning. “No one can promise me that, for no one can predict the future.”
The stallion whinnied in the stall, tired of being ignored. Teach approached his horse and stroked the neck, like Anne had done just moments before. “Do you ride?” he asked.
Surprised by the sudden change in topic and by his apparent civility, Anne responded without thinking. “Yes, my father taught me.”
“Was he a groom?”
Too late, Anne realized her mistake. It was rare indeed for a maid to know how to ride a horse.
She was saved from answering when William opened a door farther down the row of stalls. “Teach, there you are, old chap. I’ve been looking all over for you. When is breakfast—” He broke off when he saw Anne standing there, a sly grin lighting his face. “Ah. I’m sorry. Was I interrupting something?”
Teach did a poor job of masking his displeasure. “Forgive me, William. I needed some exercise and was about to take an early ride. Would you care to join me?”
William dragged his eyes away from Anne. “Before breakfast? You know how I feel about my tea and crumpets in the morning.”
Teach snorted. “How could I forget? Though, instead of reaching for a cheesecake, I suggest you get out and enjoy the morning air.”
William reached defensively for his waist and attempted a laugh. It sounded forced. “You always were an early riser. Now I understand the appeal.”
“You would have earned better marks in school if you’d decided to give it a try.”
“Well, I’d like to try now,” William said, casting a meaningful look in Anne’s direction. “You always beat me to the punch, don’t you, Teach?” There was a hint of bitterness behind his words.
“You may leave us, Anne,” Teach said.
Shuddering, Anne slipped through the door closest to her. William was a most disagreeable fellow.
And he was Teach’s closest friend. Her mother had often told her that good clothes did not make an evil man more kind, and in William’s case it was true.
She needed to remember to keep her thoughts to herself. Ever since Teach had arrived, she’d been far more outspoken than her position allowed. Her father had enjoyed her outspokenness and had even encouraged her to express herself openly, but Anne doubted anyone in this household appreciated it.
Teach and his guests would be gone soon. Only two more days here at the Drummond estate, and then they would journey to the countryside, to the Herveys’, where Teach could continue to woo his future bride and his old school chum could annoy their maids for the next fortnight.
Until they left, she planned to keep a civil tongue, avoid Miss Patience’s feet, and make sure she was never left alone in Teach’s company.
Anne had no talent for planning. If she had, she would have stayed behind in the kitchen later that afternoon instead of venturing outside the garden walls. The master and his guests had just returned from a picnic and had gone upstairs to prepare for supper.
She took that moment to steal away, knowing that everything was ready and waiting for the evening meal. Beneath the shelter of the branches of her favorite tree, she rested against the trunk and closed her eyes. It felt good to get away from the flurry and commotion of the house, if only for a few moments. She was so exhausted, she could hardly think straight. Despite having lived here for more than five months, she still considered it a strange house and was constantly stressed and tense. These short breaks of solitude were what helped keep her going, and she relished every second she could find.
Her rest was short-lived, for she heard the sound of a horse and approaching voices.
“You should not have waited for me, Miss Patience,” a familiar voice called out. “I told you I would return momentarily.”
“But I wanted to have a word with you, Edward. In private.” Miss Patience’s voice was breathless.
Anne was not surprised Miss Patience used his Christian name. It was obvious to all that they admired each other. As Miss Patience neared, Anne could make out her shape through the leaves. She was dressed in a handsome gown of deep blue.
The young master sat astride his stallion, still dressed in his riding clothes. Anne had been under the impression that all of the occupants of the house were either changing or resting. Apparently she’d been mistaken.
Teach slid down from the saddle as Miss Patience walked up to him. “And I told you, now is not the most opportune time. Perhaps it could wait until later,” he said.
Anne froze. The trunk of the tree no longer seemed an adequate hiding spot for her small money chest. She sent up a silent prayer that neither of them would notice her and that the shade of the willow branches was sufficient to conceal her presence.
“I don’t under
stand. It’s almost time for supper. Where did you go?”
“To retrieve my book,” he said, his voice weary.
“Your book?”
“Yes, my book. I made the mistake of allowing William to look at it while we were out this afternoon, and he misplaced it. I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to recover it.”
Miss Patience laughed, obviously unsure if she’d heard him right. “You were prepared to miss supper because of a silly book?”
The lines of tension in Teach’s body were visible in the evening light. He had a faint growth of stubble, and his skin was sallow.
“I have no appetite,” he said.
Miss Patience took another step forward. “Are you unwell? Perhaps I can think of a way to make you feel better.” She gave him a sly look, running her fingers up his arm. “If you’d like, we could stay out here and discuss Paradise Lost. William said it’s all about Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Since we were so rudely interrupted before, we could make this little spot our very own Eden.”
Anne did not imagine the shudder that ran through Teach. He took Miss Patience’s wrist and removed it from his shoulder. “I think it would be best if you went back inside. Your mother would not like you being out here without a chaperone.”
“Do you think I care?” she asked.
“You should. It’s not prudent for you to be in a man’s presence without an escort.”
Anne rolled her eyes. No one ever worried about her safety when she went to the marketplace all by herself. Was it possible she had more freedom than Miss Patience?
“You weren’t concerned about that yesterday afternoon when you agreed to meet me in the rose garden,” she said.
“I know. And I apologize for that.”
“What is there to apologize for? Nothing happened,” she said.
It was impossible for Anne to determine if Teach was disappointed or not. He gave no response.
“You used to enjoy our private conversations, Edward. What has changed?”
Teach ran a hand through his hair. “Being gone for a year has . . . changed me, as I’m sure it’s changed you. We should spend some time reacquainting ourselves—”
“What nonsense is this? Reacquainting ourselves? You used to enjoy our kisses just as much as I did,” Patience purred, leaning closer, her body pressed against the length of his. “We need to discuss our engagement.”
“I’ve only just returned home. Surely there’s no rush.”
She took a step back, her bottom lip jutting forward. “Not for you, perhaps. While you’ve been off enjoying your adventures, I’ve been forced to remain at home, searching for some kind of entertainment. Now that you’re back, I no longer need any distractions.”
He frowned, a small muscle working in his jaw. “Is that all I am to you? A distraction?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I care about you. Only yesterday you were willing to meet me in private. What has changed? Do you not still find me attractive?”
In answer, Teach’s shoulders hunched forward in a violent spasm. Anne jumped to her feet, tempted to call out, but there was nothing to be done. Teach turned his head too late, spewing his portion of the picnic down the front of Miss Patience’s dress.
Anne’s hands flew to her mouth.
Miss Patience froze, a look of horror spreading across her face. The only sound to escape her lips was a repeated whimper, like a sick pup, her bottom lip quivering.
Teach was no help, for he continued to retch by her side. At least he’d had the decency to turn himself slightly, so that she was no longer in the line of fire. The damage, however, was done.
The two stood next to each other, each one caught up in their own misery. It would have been difficult to decide who appeared more upset at the moment.
Shaking with suppressed laughter, Anne watched as Miss Patience eventually turned in the direction of the house, slightly bent at the waist. With mincing steps she disappeared through the archway back into the gardens, muttering beneath her breath the entire time.
Only when the young master dropped to his knees was Anne brought up short. By now, dry heaves racked his body, but still he did not stop.
Anne vacillated for a second more before sweeping the branches out of the way and going to him. Until now the stallion had stood quietly by his side, but he whinnied and approached as Anne bent over his owner.
Sweat soaked Teach’s brow as well as his shirt. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her.
Reaching forward, Anne grabbed him under the arms and attempted to help him up, careful to stay out of range. After hesitating, he threw a heavy arm over her shoulders, leaning on her as she directed him back to the house. She picked up the reins, and the stallion followed behind.
Their advancement was slow. He was at least a head taller than Anne, and she felt like a child next to him. He certainly resembled an old man at the moment, not the vibrant young man he was. By the time they reached the stable, the sun was low in the sky.
The groom rushed out when he saw them, and Anne stepped to the side. “Here, Tom, take him to his room,” she said, for she could not have made it up the stairs under Teach’s weight. The two of them disappeared while Anne took the stallion back to the barn. Once she removed his saddle, she brushed him down and gave him fresh grain, before returning to the house.
Mary and Sara rushed by her, each carrying a bucket of water.
“Mr. Edward is sick,” Mary said over her shoulder.
“Aye, he was sick all over Miss Patience,” Sara said, unable to hide the smile on her face. “You should have heard her when she came in. She swears like a sailor when she thinks no one is near.”
Margery came back down the stairs just then, carrying a dark blue dress. Even if Anne hadn’t recognized it, the smell alone would have been enough to tell her it was Miss Patience’s garment.
Thrusting it into Anne’s arms, Margery said, “Here. Do what ye can with this. It’s new, and the missus doesn’t want to throw it away.”
Anne retreated to the washing kitchen, grateful to be out of the chaos but resentful that she was left to clean up the mess. Miss Patience was nothing more than a spoiled child, and Anne was sick of everyone treating the girl as if she were a queen.
Once the water in the large pot had boiled, Anne removed it from the fire and dunked the entire dress into it. It would need to soak for several hours, if not a few days.
The mark was large, the color of burgundy, and despite the dark shade of the dress, Anne didn’t hold out much hope of ridding the garment of the stain. She had packed their picnic lunch.
While salt and wine could get out a grease stain, she doubted that salt and grease would remove a wine stain. From the looks of it, the young master had had his fair share of the liquid that afternoon.
With a stout stick she stirred the water, lifting the material out every once in a while to check its progress. It was indeed a beautiful gown, although on closer inspection she saw that the material wasn’t as rich as she’d first thought, the workmanship not of the highest quality.
Anne left the wash kitchen for a time to help Margery serve supper. Neither Teach nor Miss Patience was present during the evening meal, and the conversation was subdued. Lady Hervey picked at her food, while Lord Hervey and Master Drummond shot each other dark looks.
It was left to William to try to lighten the mood.
When Anne returned to the kitchen later in the evening, after the guests had retired, she removed the dress and held it up to the candlelight. Just as she’d suspected, the stain was still there, although it had faded somewhat. About to return it to the water, she noticed that the seam on one of the sleeves had come undone. She yanked at the thread, but instead of the thread breaking, the material simply continued to unravel. Glancing over her shoulder, she quickly returned the dress to the pot, feeling as if she’
d been tricked.
The dress might have been new, and Anne could do her best to return it to its former splendor, but there was no denying that it was poorly made.
Much like Miss Patience herself.
CHAPTER 8
Anne
The carriage drove away the next day in the pouring rain, the last of the houseguests safely inside it, along with Master Drummond himself. He was going with the Herveys in an attempt to smooth things over between the baron’s daughter and his son. Their estate was a few hours’ ride from the city, and they planned to discuss in which Hervey property Miss Patience and Teach would live. Coming from one of the oldest baronies in the country, the Herveys maintained four separate properties.
Standing alone in the doorway, Anne stared after them, wondering what she’d done to deserve such a heinous punishment. She was to tend to Teach until he was well, because he was too ill to travel with the rest of the party. Lady Hervey and Miss Patience had practically pushed each other out of the way to exit the house once Teach’s illness had been confirmed.
Anne was not sorry to see them go and hoped they would not return before she quitted the house for good.
Behind her, Margery clucked like a mother hen, handing her some tea. “Here you go, Anne. Take this up to Mr. Edward now. See if his fever is any worse.”
Resigned, she took the tray from Margery’s hands. “I don’t see why Sara can’t take it up to him,” Anne said. “Now that the master is gone, she should be free to leave the kitchen.”
Margery shot her a sharp look. “Last night the young master requested that you bring the tea up to him in the morning, not Sara.”
With his father no longer at home, Teach apparently got what he wanted. Anne was quite sure the Drummond men wouldn’t know what to do if somebody outside the family ever said no to them.
The back stairs were dim, the rain hitting the windows with an intensity that rattled the panes. The sky outside fit her mood perfectly.
Anne reached the door and tapped it with her foot.
There was no response.
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