by Liz Tyner
Barrett grabbed Gavin by the arm and pulled him past the chair, letting it fall to the side.
He had the man’s coat in both his fists and they were nose to nose before he could get out the first words. His voice was guttural. ‘You just told them I can’t get a rise.’
Gavin sputtered, eyes large, and he gave an apologetic half-smile. ‘Brilliant of me, wasn’t it?’
‘You lying—You’re never going to have another one when I finish with you.’
‘Think about it,’ Gavin near-hissed, voice low, trying to dislodge Barrett’s hands. ‘It’s truly your heart that doesn’t work. They can draw their own conclusions. He’ll trust you alone with her now.’
‘No,’ Barrett ground out the word. ‘I do not wish to be alone with her.’
The door opened and Barrett kept his eyes on Gavin. ‘Leave,’ he commanded, not looking behind him.
‘Mr Carson,’ Gavin said, twisting his head against the constraints. ‘Assure my patient that you don’t think any less of him for the sad affliction.’
With one forward move, Barrett pushed Gavin closer to the wall.
Then he stopped. He must not behave rashly. Rash actions were mindless. They accomplished nothing. He could throttle his brother later if he wished.
He shook the coat and Gavin looked at him. And Barrett could see the resemblance of his father in Gavin’s eyes. He pushed back until Gavin touched the wall, then stepped away.
Perhaps his brother would make Annie a husband—then he slammed that thought to the floor. No. His brother made ridiculous jokes about rods and bollocks.
He looked at Gavin, ignoring Annie’s father. ‘You touch her and I will kill you.’
His brother shrugged the words away and Barrett relaxed his arms. After all, Gavin had told Barrett about discovering how Annie’s mother kept her secluded from the world. Gavin surely had no designs on Annie.
Her father would have his wish. Mr Carson would work for Barrett quietly and Annie could stay in her own home, safe from predators.
Barrett heaved in a breath.
Gavin sidled away from the wall and from Barrett. The physician pulled down his jacket, straightening it.
Barrett stood there, calming his breathing, telling himself that every path had obstacles. Gavin had made an honest mistake. His brother was good. He was, mostly.
‘Now don’t let it upset you.’ The whispered voice of Annie’s father. ‘A lot of men have that problem. I never have, but I’ve heard of it before and I assure you that you have my discretion.’
Annie’s face peered around her father’s shoulder and he turned, pushing her several steps away and out of the room.
‘I am quite capable—’ then Barrett lowered his voice at Carson ‘—of doing the deed.’
‘Oh, certainly,’ the other man said. ‘I certainly understand. But it doesn’t make you less of a man, just an impaired man, and they do wonderful things with modern medicine now, don’t they, Doctor?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Gavin took a breath, frowned and stepped sideways again. ‘Although in Barrett’s case...it is a lost cause.’
Barrett snapped, ‘There is no case.’
Carson’s eyes consoled Barrett.
‘Absolutely.’ Gavin stepped closer to Carson, but kept his eyes on Barrett. ‘I would never discuss the specifics of any patient’s care. As far as the world is concerned Barrett is quite the stallion. An active man.’ He nodded, lowering his voice. ‘But more of a gelding, I’d say.’
Barrett turned his head but kept one eye on his brother, his face signalling an area which his fist could connect with.
Gavin took a step aside, almost choking on the smile he tried to hide. ‘Of course he is occasionally seen about with a woman.’ Gavin was almost out the door. ‘Older widows, usually.’ One more step into the hallway, voice squeaking from his struggle to speak without laughter. ‘The widows—they don’t expect much.’ Then he stepped outside the door and Barrett saw him bow before leaving. Annie had to be listening.
Barrett turned to Mr Carson. Compassionate eyes under burly brows stared at him.
He moved back. He feared the man might pat him on the arm.
Later, after Gavin recovered from the thrashing, he would confide a ‘miraculous cure’. Not that it mattered. Barrett could get a rise. He’d proven that too well when it had taken a while to quit thinking of Annie’s silkiness after she woke him. He’d never had a problem and if he had, proximity to Annie would have cured him anyway.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Barrett turned to Carson. ‘I’m returning home tomorrow. I’ve business to attend to.’
‘Don’t rush off,’ Carson said, one palm out, hand up. ‘I’ve been far too hasty. You just warned the physician away from Annie.’
‘I spoke...’ Barrett paused. He’d spoken without thinking. He took in a breath. Annie’s unworldliness had somehow robbed him of his lack of it. He bit back an oath.
Carson cleared his throat as Annie walked into the room. It was one of those moments when the ticking of a clock in the next country could have been heard.
Barrett looked to Annie’s widened eyes. He calmed. She shouldn’t be seeing such a display, although perhaps it was for the best. ‘I’ll leave today.’ He remembered his charm. ‘I should not be upsetting the household this much. And I’ve many business affairs to attend to.’
Carson’s cheek puffed for a half-second and Barrett saw that the man studied him.
‘You really must stay a bit longer.’ Carson’s face changed. Barrett could see the planning behind the eyes. ‘I was hoping we could have a nice family dinner together, now that you’ve...rather... Well, it is good to know that you’re a man concerned for a woman’s well-being.’
The man was daft.
But perhaps not so much.
To dangle his daughter in front of the man who now owned his shops, particularly if he thought she could remain untouched and safe from the risk of childbearing, might sound appealing.
‘I do need to get back.’
‘Of course. Of course.’ Carson interlaced his fingers. ‘But please do plan on staying at least one more day. I’m still a bit uncertain as to how you plan to make the changes in the chandlery shop.’
Only a goose would misunderstand. The candles and lamps were going to be lessened and gas lamps would be slowly included. Records would be kept. To the last penny. The shopkeeper who slept all day was to be replaced.
Carson’s lips went up. ‘It’s so rare I feel someone is worthy to be included in our family.’
Barrett would have been enraged, except, even when Carson knew he was on the brink of losing his home, he’d hidden Annie away. But now that he thought his daughter to remain innocent forever, and also protected, he was willing to bring her to the forefront.
But it wasn’t a good forefront. The man didn’t have a smattering of sense, but apparently he cared for his children, which was more than many parents did.
The man simply could not make a good decision, but he valued his daughter.
‘I will leave.’ He needed to get out of the house. Let his brother make sheep’s eyes at the virtuous little babe. He had better things to do.
‘Oh, please stay for breakfast,’ Carson said. ‘I have the new shopkeeper coming round in the morning and I think you’ll be pleased with him. Annie will have breakfast with us and she can apologise for being a ruffian and beg forgiveness for making a fist at you.’
His instincts kicked in. The feeling that he was being led to a trap. He looked at Annie. She stared at her father as if he’d just tried to push her off a cliff.
‘I don’t eat breakfast with your guests,’ Annie spoke to her father. ‘I have it in my room.’
Barrett took the direct hit and she’d not even used her knee. A pretence of wanting to have breakfast with him would have been acceptable.
&nb
sp; ‘We decided I would hire the new shopkeeper.’ Barrett made a statement.
Carson fumbled with the button on his coat and moved back. ‘My wife’s cousin. He’s a good lad.’
‘We’ll see,’ Barrett said. ‘Have him here right before dinner. I have to attend to other business. I’ll be back later, but now I must excuse myself from breakfast.’
The night had started fine and then a woman had walked into his bedroom. Now her father was giving Barrett a smile that said he wouldn’t mind having a new son-in-law. And Annie stared at her father as if he’d punched her.
‘Goodnight, Mr Carson. Miss Carson.’
He walked forward and nudged Carson out with a smile.
He would not finish his sleep. It made no sense to stay in the Carson household, but it had been a holiday of sorts. Holidays were too much like false sweetness. He needed to step out of it and get back into his life.
He would have breakfast in his room, in his house. And it was a long walk and he did not look forward to it, but if a cutpurse stopped him, he pitied the results.
He finished dressing and slipped from the house. He was less than a few feet away when a rickety cart rumbled along the street. No one was ever out at this time of night for a good reason. Moving into the shadows, he watched the donkey plodding along. The cart stopped not far from Annie’s house.
‘This be it.’ A woman’s voice.
‘We’re too early. I told you we would be too early.’ The man.
They were out of place. People did not sit in a cart unless they were waiting. They could be delivering things ordered, but they weren’t.
‘Be quiet,’ the old woman said. ‘I’ll wake you at daybreak.’
The man grumbled, handed the woman the ribbons, and moved to the back of the cart and slid out of sight.
They were definitely waiting for something.
Annie had said something about an older woman, a friend of her maid.
Barrett blended into the darkness and walked to his home, certain he could trek the distance before daybreak.
* * *
When he arrived at his house, he found Summers sitting in the Viscount’s room. Summers opened his eyes and nodded at Barrett.
Barrett motioned for Summers to step out of the room. Standing, he yawned and moved to the hallway.
Barrett pulled the door shut after Summers exited.
‘I’ll sit with Father. Have the carriage driver go to the Carson household. A few steps away, he’ll see an old woman in a cart. A man asleep in the back. See what he can find out on the sly about the old woman watching the Carson house.’
‘I almost miss the quiet life of the stews,’ Summers said, walking away.
Barrett stepped into his father’s room and took a seat in the comfortable chair.
Annie. She wanted to learn to defend herself. And a woman watched the house in the night.
Chapter Seven
Annie ran her hand along the small bedside table.
Now she had three rooms, not just a bedroom and small dressing chamber. Three rooms and all of them dark. The wood was as smooth as her old table, except at the corners, and her handkerchiefs were stacked tightly along with her books. The bedside lamp took all the space on the top and the novel had to be stored inside the drawer because it wouldn’t fit alongside the lamp.
The walls had been papered long ago and she could see the lightened spaces where the maid had removed pictures from the wall.
No main stairway connected Annie’s room to the others. Only the servants’ stairs. She’d tried to make the best of it.
She supposed she should go sit with her mother, but she didn’t wish to. She wished to have her old room back.
‘Miss.’ The kitchen maid slipped inside Annie’s doorway without a knock and shut the door quickly behind her. Her cap hid every strand of her hair except the tightly pulled back grey at her temples. She kneaded the cloth in her hands. ‘My pardon for interrupting.’
Annie nodded, dismissing the apology without comment. They both knew the woman would lose her job if caught.
Myrtle was still sleeping and Annie had worried when her father had suggested she have breakfast with him. She’d known the old woman was supposed to be at the house at daybreak.
‘I contacted the woman who is waiting. She wants funds, of course.’
‘I gave her funds.’
‘I know, miss. But she claims it takes hiring a cart again and she wants to be paid for the risk to herself. If she’s caught, your parents will have her put in gaol for taking you. She says it will be her word against theirs and you’ll not have a chance to speak to the magistrate. The Old Bailey can be spiteful. It could be her very life, but she said she’s willing to take that chance to help you.’
Annie moved forward, one finger touching the empty spot on the wall. ‘Tell her she mustn’t be caught. It’s hardly worth someone’s life.’
She went to her jewellery case and took all the money she’d secreted away, passing it to the maid.
The girl paused, turning the notes in her hand. She raised her eyes and then handed the funds back. ‘You are making a mistake.’
Annie reached out, pressing away the hand with the funds in it. ‘It will be one of the first I’ve ever made then, as I am too closely watched to make any others.’
The maid counted the money and handed half of it back. ‘You need to keep some to give to her later.’
‘True.’ Annie turned, hoping no one had to find out. She didn’t want to bring shame to her family. She’d have to leave a note so they would know she’d left on her own. And she’d have to be careful because she would be leaving everything behind.
She thought about how well suited everything in her room was, yet her parents had moved her one floor up to keep her from speaking to a man because they hadn’t chosen him for her. Just like they tried to push her sisters into marriage with men they hadn’t chosen.
And now her father had changed his mind about Barrett. She was fortunate they let her choose—her room? No. Her tea? No, her mother chose the tea. Her dresses? No, her mother and the seamstress consulted her, though.
Her parents even chose the books allowed in the house.
She looked at the maid in front of her. One of the few people she spoke with that her parents didn’t know about.
The girl ran her fingers over the notes. ‘Your sister, Honour. She chose to leave.’
‘I know,’ Annie said. ‘And I want to see for myself how she is.’ And when she saw Honour, and reassured herself that all was well, she would ask Honour what it felt like to pick the tea she wanted to drink.
The maid held the money against her heart. ‘I miss your sisters, too. I’ll give the old woman as little as I can.’ She stepped away and held the door open for Annie. ‘You mother will be sending someone else to find both of us if you don’t hurry to her.’
Annie pressed her lips together and nodded. ‘Tell the old woman I’ll be ready about a quarter-hour after the light goes out in my window.’
Annie stood in the centre of the room. She practised throwing each elbow back behind her, stamping her foot on a boot, and when she tired of that she picked up the reticule she’d filled with coals and swung it around until the ties broke.
She sighed. She would have to spend her day making a stronger reticule.
* * *
That evening, after she had made her reinforced reticule, she walked down the stairs, her palm on the side to guide her so she didn’t trip over her skirts.
Inside her mother’s room, Annie met a sparkling smile.
‘Mr Barrett has returned to eat with us tonight. He’s a little rough, but do be nice to him, dearest one.’
Annie’s mother walked forward. A perfume bottle at the ready—her mother’s choice of weapon. Annie held up her hand to keep her mother from spritzing another
dash of jasmine perfume on her. Now that the Viscount’s son was seen as an acceptable suitor, Annie felt rebellion blossoming against Barrett.
She’d liked him at first, but now she wasn’t sure.
He’d definitely been quite careful to keep his distance from her when they’d been sparring. She could not imagine him delivering any of those sonnets and poems and flowery love faradiddle that her sisters found so enthralling. Instead, she could imagine him cocking a brow and giving a silent look of censure to such a thing. The same one she’d tried to hide from her sisters.
Barrett had done nothing to show that he had any fascination with her.
But then Annie paused, hearing the inner voice that Barrett had spoken of. Yes, he found her attractive. Knowledge tumbled inside her, causing her stomach to flutter. Mr Barrett watched her differently than he watched other people.
She had no idea how she knew that, but she did. Perhaps the shadows increased at the side of his eyes, or perhaps he stared at her a bit longer than usual. She didn’t know what it was, but he’d spent a lot of time in the night sparring with her.
He’d not tried to steal a single kiss or touch her. He’d been quite respectable. Sensible. Not like Lord Richard, who’d tossed his hair back and expected her to admire him, causing her to line the other wallflowers up in front of her like a shield.
‘Mr Barrett is only going to stay with us one more day.’ The older woman raised the perfume bottle again, eyes hopeful. Annie shook her head.
‘You can move back to your room. Although you can move into it any time now that we know Barrett is such a moral man. It is like your father told you, Annie, a man does not need to court a woman. But the family needs to let him know he is acceptable and the woman must not hide behind the wallflowers at the soirées. Men do not want to marry a wallflower.’
‘I believe I will stay in the attic,’ Annie said. ‘I like the window. I can look down on the gardens and see further.’
‘If you’re sure...’
Annie nodded. She would be less likely to be missed as quickly from the upper storey. Her mother tended to send servants up and down stairs, but when Annie was nearby, she constantly stopped by Annie’s room to chat about this or that.