Peccadillo at the Palace

by Kari Bovee

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Annie felt something tapping at her cheeks. She opened her eyes to find herself on the second bed, and a man with a pointy nose and chin sitting next to her, staring into her face.

  “There you are,” he said. He took hold of her wrist, feeling for her pulse.

  “Is she all right, Doctor?” she heard Frank ask. “She hasn’t been feeling well, lately.”

  “Is this true?” the doctor asked her.

  Reluctant to admit the truth, Annie nodded her head. The doctor asked about her symptoms and she told him. She also mentioned she hadn’t experienced her time of the month in quite a while. She couldn’t very well lie in front of Frank, who knew her so well.

  “Do you think I am pregnant, Doctor?” Annie asked.

  The doctor pried open her eye lids, felt around her neck and told her to open her mouth.

  “I can’t be certain, but your symptoms do reflect the possibility— especially since you’ve not had your menses in a couple of months. I suggest bed rest until you can be certain.”

  “Bed rest?” Annie bolted upright. “I have performances, responsibilities. I can’t lie about in bed, especially if you’re not certain. And if I am pregnant, it doesn’t mean that I am ill—just with child.” Annie never remembered her mother lying in bed during her pregnancies with John Henry and Hulda. She had functioned the same as before. The lying about in bed came later, with the stress of poverty.

  “Annie, perhaps you should listen to the doctor,” Frank said.

  “You are the person who needs medical attention. Why don’t you ask Frank about his symptoms?” Annie pointed over at Frank. She knew she was behaving irrationally, but she just couldn’t be pregnant. Not now.

  “Hysteria is another symptom of breeding,” the doctor said with a patronizing smile. “Most women are elated to find out they are in the family way. I’m sure your husband welcomes the possibility.”

  Annie wanted to scream. Why was this man telling her how she and Frank should feel? She had no idea agreeing to come to the palace for Frank’s benefit would be so taxing.

  She swallowed down the vortex of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

  “I just want to be sure,” she said, trying to keep the tone of her voice even. “But the major concern right now is Frank. Can you help him?”

  The doctor stood and turned his attentions to Frank. Annie breathed a sigh of relief. They discussed what Frank had experienced since his time on the ship, Mr. Everett’s algae poisoning theory, and the idea that someone could be poisoning him intentionally.

  “Poisoning by algal bloom is an interesting theory, and that could have been the case, but it’s been a few weeks since you’ve left the ship,” the doctor said. “You should have returned to health by now. As far as someone intentionally poisoning you, we have no way to be certain—I recommend blood-letting by leeches. They will draw out any toxins in the body. It’s my prediction we’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

  Although Annie didn’t care for the doctor’s opinion about what ailed her, she felt that perhaps, finally, Frank would get a treatment that made him better. Emma had told her stories of miraculous cures from the use of the slimy creatures.

  Hulda reemerged from her bedroom, holding a letter.

  “For Mother,” she said. “Annie, can we go exploring now?”

  “I think that sounds splendid, Hulda,” she said, climbing off the bed.

  “Annie, don’t you think you should—” Frank started.

  “I’m feeling so much better, darling. I think the doctor should expend his energies on you. That’s why we are here, after all. Besides, I would like to visit the mews—to see where Buck will be staying, and also to find out how Miss Tessen is settling. There really is so much to be done.” She grabbed Hulda by the hand and led her toward the door. “We will leave you to your privacy.” They slipped out before Frank or the doctor could protest.

  Annie closed the door behind them to find an older man wearing the same red-and-gold uniform standing next to it, his back to the wall, arms at his sides, as if at attention. He turned to face her.

  “Miss Oakley, Miss Mosey,” he said, “I am Mr. Ingle. May I be of service?” At first glance, Mr. Ingle reminded Annie of Mr. Shaw. Ingle had the same round face and bright blue eyes, but they differed in the area of the mouth. Mr. Shaw wore a perpetual smile, where Mr. Ingle’s mouth turned down at the corners, lending him a dour expression.

  “We’d like to see the royal mews, where my horse has been taken.”

  “And we’d like to see more of the palace,” Hulda said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  “Forgive my sister, Mr. Ingle, she is overexcited.”

  Mr. Ingle gave a slight nod. “I can give you a limited tour, as the prince and princess are in residence.”

  “Goodie!” said Hulda, clapping her hands.

  Annie took Hulda’s arm in hers, hoping to preventing further outbursts. She hated to dampen Hulda’s enthusiasm, but feeling way out of her element, Annie also didn’t want to draw undue attention.

  Mr. Ingle took almost an hour guiding them through the gallery, the council room, the library, dining room, and plate room. Annie and Hulda strolled silently next to him, listening as he explained the important features of each room, including the furnishings and artwork.

  As they stood in one of the corridors listening to the history of one of the paintings of Napoleon Bonaparte, a man in a white suit and turban approached them.

  “Mr. Patel!” Annie could scarcely believe her eyes.

  Mr. Patel bowed at the waist. Annie noticed a small gold medal hanging from a chain around his neck fall forward from his chest as he bowed. “It is I, memsahib. What brings you to the palace?”

  Annie explained Frank’s condition.

  “We are getting a tour of the palace,” Hulda said.

  “So I see,” said Mr. Patel. “You are in good hands with Mr. Ingle.”

  The downward angle of Mr. Ingle’s mouth increased and he refused to make eye contact with Mr. Patel.

  “Would you care to join me for tea?” Mr. Patel asked.

  Anxious to get to the stables, Annie almost declined, but then thought joining Mr. Patel for tea might be a way to find out more about his former relationship with Mr. Bhakta and his present relationship with the queen.

  “I’d love to.”

  “But the tour, Annie!” Hulda said.

  “Mr. Ingle, can you finish without me? Mr. Patel will direct me to the stables.”

  “Very well,” said Mr. Ingle. “I will see the young miss back to your rooms.”

  Pleased, Hulda put her arm through Mr. Ingle’s, ready to continue. Mr. Ingle looked less than pleased, but Annie knew Hulda would be safe.

  Mr. Patel led Annie through more rooms and down a flight of stairs.

  “The servant’s quarters,” he said, holding out his arm in invitation. “I will fix some tea for us in my rooms.” Annie instantly felt more at ease in the modest quarters.

  Mr. Patel led her through a narrow hallway and into his rooms—a sitting room with a small stove and a doorway that led into what must be his bedroom. He directed her to one of the chairs at a small wooden table and set about preparing their tea. He pulled a tin from one of the shelves above the stove and took out several biscuits and placed them on a plate.

  While he worked, Annie scanned the room. She got up to examine a small painting on the wall which depicted a quaint row of thatched buildings below a grove of palm trees. A charming well stood prominent in the forefront of the scene.

  “This is lovely,” Annie said. “I like its simplicity.”

  “Yes. That is where I grew up—my home, before the British East India Company took it.”

  “Sri Lanka?”

  “No. Cawnpore—in India.” He stopped working and grasped the medal at his neck, staring at the teapot.

  “I thought you were from Sri Lanka,” Annie said.

  He took two teacups and sau
cers down from another shelf.

  “I have family there, but I am from Cawnpore.”

  Annie studied the workmanship in the painting. “It’s beautiful, like nothing I could ever imagine.” Annie thought about the tear catcher with the remnants of viper venom, supposedly from Sri Lanka, found on the ship. Now that Becky had been cleared of the crime, she wondered again if Mr. Patel could have murdered Mr. Bhakta. Mr. Wilde and Mrs. Langtry had mentioned a disgruntled servant who failed to get Mr. Bhakta’s post. Could it be Patel? It didn’t seem likely, but she couldn’t be sure. She hadn’t thought she’d ever see Mr. Patel again. This was a stroke of luck.

  “It was a beautiful place,” he continued. “But terrible things happened there.”

  “What things?” Annie asked. She noticed he took hold of the medal again. He held it out from his neck to show her.

  “I wear this to remember. It commemorates the great siege in 1857, during the Indian Rebellion. It is a long story. The East India Company had taken over Cawnpore for the queen, along with much more of India. I was a soldier, a sepoy rebel, but I remained loyal to the British when India wanted her country back, for I was in love with a British girl. But my brothers in arms, they did terrible things during the rebellion—to the English women and children. I escaped during the siege and was later hunted by my fellow soldiers. I was shot in the leg, but crawled to safety. Somehow, I made it to Lucknow.” The ghost of a smile played at Mr. Patel’s lips, as if the memory stirred something in him. “I will be returning there, soon.”

  Annie noted a hint of sadness in his voice. “Oh?”

  “I have no place here at the palace anymore. Not since Mr. Bhakta—”

  “I’m sorry,” Annie said.

  “The English servants do not like us, even though we are far below them in rank. They tolerated me because Mr. Bhakta endeared himself to the queen, but now he is gone . . .” He brought over the two teacups on saucers, and then retrieved the plate of biscuits. “Sugar?” he asked, indicating the small bowl of sugar on the table.

  “No, thank you.” Annie sipped her tea. It was good and strong. “How long will you be here?”

  “A few more weeks. I am in the process of securing passage home.”

  Annie thought she should take advantage of this time with Mr. Patel. Who knew when she would see him again—if ever.

  “Mr. Patel, have you ever seen a tear catcher?”

  He shook his head. “I do not know of this tear catcher. Why do you ask?”

  Annie shrugged. “It was found on the ship. It might have something to do with Mr. Bhakta’s death. It may have contained the poison that killed him. Poison that comes from Sri Lanka. Venom from a snake, a viper. Mr. Patel, do you know of anyone on the ship who would have access to that sort of substance?”

  “No, memsahib. Truly.”

  A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. “Come in,” Mr. Patel said.

  A young woman wearing a simple black dress entered the room. “Forgive the intrusion, but I have a letter for Miss Oakley. Mr. Ingle said I would find her here.” Annie stood to retrieve the note and opened it.

  It was from Dr. Adams.

  “He wants to see Frank,” Annie said out loud, and she wondered why. She had told the colonel if Dr. Adams showed up at the grounds to tell him Frank would be attended by the royal physician. Perhaps he still felt a responsibility to his patient—or was there something more? Now that she knew for certain he was Irish, she wondered if he had some kind of political agenda and wanted to include Frank.

  “Is everything all right?” Mr. Patel asked, setting down his teacup with a clink.

  “Yes, yes, but I must go. Miss, did Dr. Adams deliver this note? Is he still here?”

  The woman shrugged. “I don’t know, ma’am. It was given to me by Mr. Ingle.”

  “Well. . . .” Annie tucked the note into her dress pocket. “I will reply later. Mr. Patel, would you mind taking me to the mews?”

  “It is quite a long walk, memsahib. I will secure a carriage for you.”

  “But are you not coming?”

  “Oh no. It is not permitted for me. My duties require that I stay in the palace.”

  By carriage, the ride through Green Park to the royal mews took less than a quarter of an hour. When Annie alighted from the coach after passing through the grand archway, she was greeted by a royal groomsman, as Mr. Patel had promised. The young man was small in stature and had a broad, shining face and yellow-blond hair that he wore parted down the middle.

  “You have come to see your horse,” the young man said, handing her down from the coach. He stood only a few inches taller than she.

  “Why, word travels fast around here. Yes, I have.”

  “May I show you around? The queen is very proud of her stables and the fine horses within.”

  The young man strode next to her, hands behind his back, as they toured the quadrangle. They stopped at the coach house which housed the queen’s many beautiful conveyances, the most impressive being the queen’s golden state coach.

  “Is this real gold?” Annie asked.

  “Yes. Gilded, but gold. The interior is fashioned with velvet and satin. The queen will use this coach for all of her jubilee celebrations.”

  Annie couldn’t believe her eyes. This much gold could feed all the people of North Star, perhaps even all the people of Ohio.

  “Annie! Isn’t this magnificent?” Hulda, accompanied by another groomsman, ran up to her.

  “Unbelievable,” Annie said.

  “Your horse is down this way,” said the blond groomsman.

  He led them down a row of stalls with horses grazing on hay, or with their heads over the stall doors to watch them pass. Finally, they reached Buck. When he saw Annie, he gave a low nicker and met her at the door.

  “Hello, boy,” she said, stroking his head. “Aren’t you living in luxury?” Buck nudged her with his nose. Hulda and her escort moved on to continue their tour.

  “Meet you in our rooms directly after you view the stable?” Annie called after her.

  “I want to see the park,” Hulda said.

  “I will make sure she is looked after,” said the groomsman accompanying Hulda.

  Annie sighed with resignation. “All right. Be sensible, Hulda.”

  “Oh, Annie, stop fussing.” Hulda turned on her heel and put her arm through her groomsman’s as they continued down the aisle.

  Annie turned to the blond groomsman.

  “Have you seen Miss Tessen? Has she gotten settled?”

  “I saw her earlier. Yes, we have quarters for the grooms over there.” He pointed to one of the wings of the quadrangle. “I believe someone helped her get moved in and showed her around. Do you have a message for her? If I see her, I can relay your message.”

  “Yes, actually. I will need to ride Buck to Earl’s Court in the early mornings for practice and performances. She will know what to do to get him ready. I’ve brought my costumes with me, so I will be ready to go. Will she be able to come to me in the palace?”

  “We are not permitted in the palace, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh.” Annie remembered Mr. Patel told her he was not permitted in the stables. This palace sure had a lot of rules.

  “I will see that Miss Tessen gets the message. Are you ready to go back to the palace?”

  Annie nodded and gave Buck one last pet on the nose. “You behave, mister. No getting nervous and pacing in your stall. You need to be fresh for practice in the morning.”

  She left Buck munching on hay while she and the groomsman made their way back to the arch where Annie’s carriage awaited. She asked him many questions about the queen’s horses, and he was kind enough to oblige her with a history of many of them. He proudly told her the queen had started a breeding program for her carriage horses.

  “She also loves to ride every day—well, not so much anymore. Not since Mr. Brown passed away.”

  “Who was Mr. Brown?”

  “He was a persona
l favorite of Her Majesty’s. They were quite close. He used to walk with her for hours through the park—she on her favorite horse, Fyvie, and Mr. Brown on foot.”

  “Does she still ride?” Annie couldn’t imagine not riding every day if she was able.

  “Occasionally, but she misses Mr. Brown sorely—I’m told, almost as much as she misses her late husband, Prince Albert. She grows very attached to people, if you are lucky enough to have her approval.”

  “Have you her approval?” Annie asked, teasing him.

  “Yes. She is very kind to me when I have occasion to see her.”

  “I’m glad of it. I am anxious to meet her. I’d love to be in her good graces. Do you have any words of wisdom for me?”

  “Only the usual. Do not speak to her unless she speaks to you first. You may make eye contact, but do not stare. Be honest and forthright— she likes that.” He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.

  As they turned the corner to approach the arch, something caught Annie’s eye by the grooms’ quarters. She saw Miss Tessen talking with Dr. Adams. The conversation looked intense, with both of them standing close. Annie stopped.

  “There is your Miss Tessen,” said the groomsman. “Would you like me to retrieve her?”

  “No, I’ve been away from my husband too long.”

  Annie continued to watch Miss Tessen and the doctor, and nearly gasped when she saw Dr. Adams leaned in to kiss her. She did nothing to stop him. They embraced for a few seconds. When they broke apart, she said something to him, and they went their separate ways. Miss Tessen walked toward Buck’s stall.

  Annie continued walking toward the arch, stunned by what she had just witnessed. Dr. Adams and Miss Tessen—lovers? She tried to reconcile exactly what that meant. Was this a new courtship? Had it started on the ship? Miss Tessen had claimed she had no friends, no support. She had to inform Emma and get her opinion immediately.