To Win A Wallflower. Liz Tyner

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       Chapter Four

      Annie’s mother took the last sip of her tea and placed the pink rose teacup on the saucer. The pink rose meant it was Tuesday. Wednesday would have had the gilt-rimmed ones. Thursdays were for the silver vines. One could always tell the day of the week by the teacups.

      ‘I hate that your father didn’t have tea with us this afternoon, but he has had to lie down. This is our only time as a family. Even though it’s not quite the same since your sisters left.’ The grey curls bobbed as she spoke. ‘He has been touring the shops with the man who has all these ridiculous ideas about updating them and it has exhausted him. I think it may have tired Mr Barrett, too, as he is with the physician. But Mr Barrett will be on his way tomorrow. He upsets your father—all that talk about commerce.’

      Mr Barrett did not seem someone who might be exhausted about talk of commerce. Not if he roamed around in the night and could speak so easily about fighting.

      ‘Are you sure you are not feeling distressed from the air last night?’ her mother asked, patting the strands at her forehead. ‘You look pale.’

      ‘Not at all.’

      ‘I will call the physician to look at you again.’

      ‘I don’t need a physician, Mother. And why is he here so often?’

      ‘It’s my bile again. You know how it is... He is so thoughtful. Not at all like Mr Barrett.’

      Annie’s cup rattled when she placed it on the saucer. ‘I don’t quite understand why Father invited him.’

      ‘Mr Barrett does have a good man of affairs and seems quite interested in helping your father manage the shops your grandfather left him. But stay far away from your father’s guest. His eyes. Something about them. It’s as if he’s thinking all the time.’ She moved her hand, waving a napkin as she spoke. ‘He stares. I don’t like people who stare. It’s just not polite to look at people and think. It distresses the head so. The physician said it causes wrinkles as well.’ She patted her cheek. ‘I suppose that is why I look so youthful.’ She looked at Annie. ‘He says he can hardly tell we are not sisters.’

      Annie smiled. ‘While you are quite the beauty of the family, Mother, I think the physician is full of his own miasmas and spreading things a bit thick.’

      ‘Nonsense.’ Her mother’s eyes darted to Annie’s face. ‘He’s a true scholar. He studied at Oxford and the Royal College of Physicians.’

      ‘Who are his people so that he could pay for his education?’

      ‘I believe he had a benefactor. When our last physician left after receiving the post with one of the Prince’s brothers, he recommended Gavin. He is well respected.’

      ‘Then I suppose he is qualified.’ She dismissed him from her thoughts, but she couldn’t keep Barrett from her mind.

      It was so unlike her father to invite anyone like Barrett into their house. But he was a viscount’s son and her father knew how important that could be. Her father spent more time befriending people from the aristocracy than he spent doing anything else.

      The memory of the Granny Gallery flitted through her mind. The man had tried to teach her to hit someone. She didn’t doubt he pulled his punches.

      She would like to see him in the daylight hours. She touched her cheek again. ‘I do want to check with the physician to see if he can note an improvement,’ she said.

      Her mother’s gaze wavered. ‘But not if he is with that man. You should wait. I’ll summon him. Ring for a servant to collect him.’

      Annie stood. ‘But, Mother, the physician is close. It will only take a moment.’

      Her mother shut her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. ‘Well, just be quick about it. And don’t let your father know if you see Mr Barrett.’ She whispered to Annie, ‘Your father says the man was seen about at a b-r-o-t-h-e-l when he was young. It’s said he visited every day. Not even waiting until the proper night hours.’

      ‘Oh.’ Annie went to the door. She stopped, looking back at her mother. ‘Do you think he thought it safer during the day?’

      Her mother fanned her face. ‘Men do not go to a b-r-o-t-h-e-l to fight.’

      ‘Just a thought.’

      Her mother shut her eyes and shook her head.

      Annie wasn’t really looking for the physician. Walking down the hallway, she moved to the library, but Gavin wasn’t there, and then she tiptoed to the Granny Gallery. No one.

      She would have thought the physician would have consulted with Barrett in the main rooms.

      Then she moved to the room across from her old one. She could hear male voices.

      She stopped, listening. The physician and Barrett talked. A rumbling sound. She wondered if Barrett had an ailment.

      A few minutes later, the door opened, but the physician still looked back into the room as he spoke and stepped forward. ‘I cannot be in three places at once, but I’ll see what I can do.’

      ‘You’d best.’ Barrett said.

      Annie stood, her mouth open.

      ‘Oh. Miss Annie,’ Gavin said, seeing her, then he smiled. ‘What can I do for you?’

      ‘My mother requested you.’

      Gavin nodded, head turned to the side. ‘I’ll see to her.’ He walked away.

      Annie didn’t follow him. Barrett stepped into the doorway, eyes dark.

      ‘Were you teaching him to fight?’ she asked.

      He shook his head. ‘He looks like a soft flannel, but I’d say he can hold his own.’

      ‘I heard that,’ Gavin called over his shoulder, but didn’t stop walking.

      ‘Are you ill?’ she asked Barrett.

      The creases at his eyes deepened, but his lips didn’t really smile and he seemed to be waiting until Gavin got out of earshot. ‘Miss Annie, might you be concerned for my health?’

      ‘No. You don’t seem to need any sympathy.’

      ‘I don’t.’

      ‘Or even someone to tell you simple pleasantries.’

      He paused, watching her face, his own headshake nearly imperceptible.