“And they contacted you? I thought she had dozens of medical staff.”
“Quite a lot of them, certainly. But I’m friendly with some of the younger royalties and they contacted me because I’d been through the medical maelstrom with my mother and they thought I might have some suggestions.”
“Did you? Is Her Majesty better?”
“No, I’ve just come into town. I thought of you and your wife, you see.”
“Oh?”
Hatbrook leaned forward. “Yes, you see, the Queen is quite enamored of Indian things. Takes Hindustani language lessons, has Indian staff. I thought Indian medicine might help her headaches. Would you allow me to bring your wife and her medicine box to see her? It’s the only thing I can think to offer, beyond what she already has available.”
Gawain took, then released a deep breath. How hypocritical would he be to say he didn’t want Ann treating the local servants, yet was fine with her treating the Queen? Yet, headaches were unlikely to be contagious diseases. “You put me in a difficult situation.”
“I do?”
“I had thought to prevent my wife from practicing. We have a child now and a large house for her to direct.”
“Women have their passions, same as we do,” Hatbrook observed. “Alys would have been miserable without Redcake’s Tea Shop and Emporium in her life. Can she work there as she used to? Certainly not, but some level of engagement with it keeps her happy.”
“You are suggesting my wife will not be happy without medicine.”
Hatbrook picked up the wedding photograph. “Perhaps doctoring you and your children, and the household, will be enough for her.”
“She doesn’t seem to think so.”
A smile played over the corners of his brother-in-law’s lips, but the man said nothing. He didn’t need to. Gawain stood and went to the bell pull. When the butler came in, he said, “Would you send for Mrs. Redcake?”
The butler inclined his head and disappeared.
“Need anything while we wait? Tea, brandy?”
Hatbrook shook his head. “Don’t want to get comfortable. I hope to leave for Windsor right away. My carriage is outside.”
“I haven’t ordered a standard one. Lewis is building me one of his modern contraptions.” Gawain drummed his thumb against one arm of the chair, then forced himself to ask after his sister and niece.
Hatbrook replied that all was well.
“And what news of Manfred Cross? It’s been nearly a month since you received the letter from him. Any word about your sister?”
“They aren’t together anymore. I have been in touch with the private inquiry agent and hope to find her soon,” Hatbrook said tersely.
“But she’s alive?”
“I have no reason to think otherwise.”
“I am most glad to hear that. Are you certain I cannot be of use to you?”
Hatbrook shook his head.
“I will instruct my household to pray for a speedy resolution,” Gawain said after a moment.
Ann appeared in the doorway, looking quite lovely despite being dressed in mourning for Jeremy. She had insisted on observing six weeks for him, though Gawain couldn’t be quite sure why. Perhaps Fern had wanted it that way. She was in mourning as well. At least the Queen appreciated a good mourning gown.
They both stood when she entered, looking concerned yet gracious. “Ann, you remember the marquess.”
“Of course.”
Hatbrook stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “My condolences.”
She smiled demurely. “My husband’s cousin.”
“Of course,” Hatbrook murmured softly, without any hint of betraying that he knew the entire story.
“Is the family in town?”
“No, I am here on urgent business. I hoped you would come with me to Windsor Palace.”
Ann’s head tilted, and she glanced at Gawain. “Whatever for, my lord?”
“The Queen has been suffering dreadful headaches for more than a week. She is all but bed-bound and the family and medical staff do not know what to do. I thought you might be able to help.”
Ann’s graceful fingers went to her temples. “The poor lady. She has suffered so many losses recently.”
Hatbrook nodded. “It could be an affliction of the mind causing her pain.”
“That would not make the pain any less. But I would defer to my husband on this. You are asking me to leave my home.” She gave him a solemn glance.
Gawain cleared his throat. He could tell she ached to go, and Hatbrook did not need to be thwarted when he had so many troubles on his mind. “As it does not appear there is a risk of contagion, I expect the risks are few.”
Ann regarded him solemnly. He had the feeling that their entire future happiness might depend on this moment.
“This is what you were trained for. The royal healing arts of your mother, and now an English queen requires your aid,” he said.
She nodded. “My mother would wish me to do what I could for the poor Queen.”
Gawain crossed his arms over his chest, then uncrossed them. He had not thought to have a wife with a profession, but Hatbrook rubbed on well enough with Alys, and she never let Redcake’s take precedence over family matters. Perhaps he had been wrong to forbid Ann to continue her healing work. He went to her and took her in his arms. “I have no problem with you attending her.”
He watched her gaze sharpen as she spoke. “I’ll have to take Noel. We have no idea how long the Queen will need tending.”
“Take Jenna, too,” Gawain said. He had not expected to see the sun-bright smile that lit Ann’s lovely face at the suggestion. How could he have thought to prevent her from practicing the medicine that brought her so much joy? Hatbrook, that old married man, had the right of it. They had married women too modern to be happy solely in the domestic sphere.
After giving him a kiss on the cheek, Ann asked Hatbrook a few questions. Gawain released her from his encircling arms as she attempted to glean as much information as he had to provide, then went to order Noel and Jenna for the trip and pack the necessary medical equipment.
When they arrived at the palace with entourage in tow, they didn’t have any trouble entering, but much confusion was evident when they tried to gain access to the Queen. The marquess relayed information about the phone call he received and told the staff about her qualifications, emphasizing that she’d been trained by the late Maharani of Caliata.
Eventually, the Queen’s Indian secretary was summoned, as well as a junior member of the royal family. After these worthies met with them, Ann was brought to an ornate but chilly bedchamber. Queen Victoria rested in an armchair, her plump legs up on a cushion.
“You are Mai Singh’s daughter?” the Queen said, in a voice much younger than her seventy years.
Ann curtseyed. “Yes, your majesty.”
“I knew your grandfather. Did you know he was educated here in England?”
“No, ma’am. I know next to nothing about my Indian roots.”
“Your father was an officer in my army, I believe?”
Ann inclined her head.
“So unfortunate that your mother married into an old-fashioned family,” the Queen said. “I’m glad she survived to marry again.”
“As am I, ma’am. I am here because of your headaches?”
“You should not be living the life of a commoner,” the Queen opined. “Dreadful for one of royal blood to have fallen into such obscurity.”
“I am happily married, your majesty,” Ann ventured. “My husband’s sister is married to the marquess.”
The Queen tilted her head and winced. “I believe we knighted your father-in-law not too long ago.”
“Sir Bartley Redcake, yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent Scotch trifle,” the Queen said with a little smile. Then she winced and moaned. “Oh, my head. I do so wish dear Albert were here to soothe me. He knew the way.”
Ann glanced at a lady-in-waiting, who rolled her eyes
the tiniest bit. Dear Albert had passed to his reward about the time Ann was born. “I am sorry for your troubles, ma’am. May I examine you?”
“What can you do that my doctors cannot?”
“I would like to massage your head and shoulders. Sandalwood paste on your forehead would be very soothing. If we can talk a little, I can suggest some herbal teas or pills that might be helpful to you.”
“Indian massage?” the elderly Queen asked.
“A specific technique my mother taught me. Used in royal zenanas. I massage with oil from India. If some of your problem is muscular, it will work wonders.” The Queen sighed and looked at her Indian secretary, who nodded. “If this technique was used on such a distinguished royal family for years, it is safe to be used on our person.”
Ann inclined her head. “Then if the gentlemen will be permitted to leave, I will begin, ma’am.”
Two hours later she had accomplished everything an oil massage, sandalwood paste and a soothing tea blend could manage. She discussed her choice of herbal pills with one of the royal physicians, and he approved it. The attempt to gently suggest some alterations to diet, wardrobe and jewelry was rejected, however. She hoped the Queen would be able to endure her voyage to France now, especially since she’d instructed one of her serving women on the massage technique, and left oil and sandalwood.
Ann received a letter from the Queen’s Indian secretary the next Monday, thanking her for her service and noting that the Queen had been well enough to make her journey. Shortly thereafter, Ann saw an article in the paper about the Queen’s travels in Spain to see relatives. She was pleased to have been a small part of the Queen’s success.
“What do you have there?” Gawain asked, coming into the morning parlor carrying Noel.
Ann admired the sight of her fierce husband cradling their small baby. “Did Noel need to escape the nursery?”
“I did. Did you really have to wallpaper the room with those self-satisfied milkmaids?”
Ann laughed. “They are a bit overwhelming. I could add a border of something different at the ceiling level.”
“Or paint over them,” Gawain said.
She ignored him. “Did you like the new rocking chair?”
“I did.”
“I will appreciate it very much when teething begins in the summer.” Ann yawned.
“You’ve done a great deal of work in a short time. I have no complaints about any of the furnishings.”
“Wait until you see the accounts,” Ann said. “Then we’ll hear a yell out of you.”
Gawain kissed the top of Noel’s head and sat in a comfortable armchair. “It is worth it.”
“How is your face feeling?” She had begun treating his scars with both pills and a paste, hoping to soften the tissue and alter the color to be closer to the rest of his skin.
“It itches a little.”
“I’ll add some more oil,” she said. “We’ll see if that helps.”
“Have you tended any other patients?” he asked casually.
“You know I have not,” Ann said. “You forbade me to.”
“I thought Hatbrook might pop up here again with another royal patient, since you were such a success. And what of Lady Judah?”
“Oh, I have seen her. She paid a call last week. In fact, I need to return it. But she is feeling very well.”
“Now that the house is finished, you must be getting bored.”
“The house isn’t finished, Gawain. I have only found half of the storage pieces we need, and if you are going to entertain grandly, I need to choose china.”
“There is a wardrobe in our bedroom and in the nursery, and you purchased that monstrosity for the dining room.”
“Yes, I’ve found a few things.”
“It looks complete to me.”
“Are you telling me to stop spending money?” She smiled sweetly.
“No. As long as I can make it as quickly as you can spend, we’ll be fine. Did I tell you London’s newest fine hotel will be serving my tea?”
“How wonderful.”
“Yes.” Gawain smiled in self-satisfaction.
His smiles had been so much more evident recently. “I’m proud of you, and if you want a home to reflect your success, I am afraid to tell you there is more to be done. Artwork, for instance. Fern has more in her bedroom than we have in the rest of the house.”
“Did Lewis agree to make you one of his birds?”
“No. When he called, he said he was done with the birds, even though I told him I had a shop interested in selling them. But he did say your horseless carriage would arrive next week.”
“I’ll believe that when it appears in our carriage house. Are any of the local ladies paying calls here?”
“The vicar and his wife. She suggested I join one of the ladies’ societies when I was settled.”
“Good. No doubt you will find ladies to tend there.”
“You’re lifting your ban?”
He transferred Noel to his shoulder. “As long as you don’t bring disease into the house, or neglect your responsibilities here, I will have no cause for complaint.”
She knew what a concession that was. “What has brought this change of mind?”
“I realized today that you’ve done everything I’ve asked. Yet you’ve asked very little of me. Your one request has been to continue practicing what your mother taught you. And who can say when the Queen will call again? We must keep your knowledge of female complaints current.”
The butler knocked at the open door. When Gawain waved his hand, the butler brought in the post and placed it on a table between the two armchairs, then soundlessly exited.
Ann rifled through the pile. “Looks like an invitation from Lady Judah. Maybe they are having a dinner party. And . . . oh dear, the first charges from the furniture shop.”
Gawain chuckled. “What is that one?”
Ann pulled out a creamy envelope made from the finest paper. “It looks hand-delivered.”
She took the letter opener that the butler had placed on a tray and cut open the top. When she saw the large signature scrawled across the top, she nearly gasped.
“What is it?”
“I think it is from the Queen.” Her fingers felt all but nerveless.
Gawain stood and perched beside her. Ann drank in the smell of clean infant and handsome husband as they leaned close. “Don’t let Noel drool on this. It will probably be a family keepsake for years to come.”
“Of course. Is it a thank you note?” Ann read it. “My goodness. She wants to knight you.” Was Gawain’s fondest wish to come true so soon?
“What?” Gawain stretched out his hand as if to snatch it, but then cradled Noel instead. “Why would she want to knight me?”
“What will be next for you after you’ve achieved such a dream?” Ann asked. “Why, you aren’t even thirty yet.”
He shook his head. “I am astonished. But I am more content to be happy than ambitious now.”
“You’ll always be ambitious,” Ann said. “It’s part of your nature. But I am glad you’ve found serenity.”
“I shall have to start dreaming big for Noel,” Gawain said, with a wicked grin.
“That is a good idea.”
“Now, what exactly does the letter say?”
Ann perused it. “She thanks me for my service. Says she would have written this letter in Hindustani but wasn’t sure I would know the language. Her headaches are all but gone and she would have me consult with her chief physician for a supply of pills.”
“All good.”
“Yes. Then she says, in honor of my grandfather, and in thanks for my service, she will have you placed on the next investiture list and to await further instructions from her staff.” She put a hand to her chest. How could this be? Had a simple medical treatment led to the fulfillment of her husband’s dreams?
He stiffened. “You should be knighted, not me.”
Ann smiled. A title had not been her dream. “I s
hall be Lady Redcake. That is good enough for me.”
“What does she know of your grandfather?”
“He was educated in England and her majesty knew him when she was young. I had no idea, of course. I know nothing about my mother’s family.”
“Who would have thought it?” Gawain said.
“Exactly. I thought your marriage to me would put an end to some of your dreams, but that appears not to have been the case.”
He leaned forward, taking her hand with the one not cradling Noel. “Ann, you’ve given me everything. I love you.”
Ann gasped when she heard the words, saw the sincerity in his eyes. Her entire body swelled with joy. “Oh, Gawain, I love you too. You’ve made me so happy.”
“I hope you know how sincerely happy you’ve made me,” he rasped. “I could not ask for anything else but this wife, this child, this house.”
She tapped the creamy paper in her lap. “And this letter.”
He grinned. “And that letter.”
Chapter Twenty
After he had given Noel to Ann for a feeding and she’d gone up to the nursery, Gawain went to his study to compose a letter to his father. He couldn’t resist the urge to gloat a little. A man who had come out of his father’s shadow was the happiest of men. Now there would be two “sirs” in the family, and two Lady Redcakes. No one would ever question his choice of bride again. Once her service to the Queen became known, she would need to take only the choicest of clients. Noble mothers-to-be, perhaps. He fantasized about being named godfather of a royal baby.
Being a practical man, his thoughts soon turned to business. He wrote to his trader, Zahir Khan, in Lahore, authorizing a larger purchase order for certain herbs they already stocked. Then he wrote to Theodore Bliven in care of General Delivery in Bombay, authorizing him to continue searching for the best herbs in every province. He drafted letters of credit for them both, to be mailed to his bank. Someone would report on the treatments that had healed the Queen, though officially she had been in Biarritz at the time the healing occurred, and there would be a demand for Ann’s infused oil and sandalwood paste. Turnaround to India was slow, but eventually he would have the goods, and be first to market at that. He set down his pen and rubbed at the itchy scar under his eye. Ann must write up a case study of her treatment of the Queen, and he could make it available to his salesmen. He wondered if the Queen would offer his company a royal warrant. She likely drank his teas, since they had been a part of the deliveries Redcake’s Tea Shop and Emporium had sent to Windsor and Osborne House for a year. He had been content to fly under his father’s banner—but no more.
His Wicked Smile Page 27