The Gathering Storm (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 3)(73)

She was lying on the floor, one arm instinctively curled around her swollen stomach, surrounded by a rainbow array of silks and with no clear recollection of how she had got there. She looked up dizzily, trying to focus on the splash of red and black looming above her. Then it bent down and became Richard. He put his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet. She clung to him while he half-carried her back to her chair and settled her into it.

"Really, Anne," he said. "You see what happens when you overexcite yourself? You must be more careful now you are so close to your time. Arabella is an excellent name for the child. You need think no further than that. I will ask the maid to bring you a hot drink." He took a cushion and placed it carefully behind her. "Now," he said, "I really must go to the club. It will not do to keep the colonel waiting, when I am hoping to apply for membership tonight. I may be late home, so don't wait up for me."

He took his hat, settled it onto his head and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Anne sat back and waited until the white sparkles dancing across her vision diminished. The maid did not appear.

After a time, when she was sure the dizziness had passed, she stood and walked shakily over to the looking glass. The left side of her face was on fire, and as she examined herself in the mirror she could clearly see a dark bruise forming along her cheekbone. She gazed intently at her reflection, as though this other Anne could provide an explanation as to what had happened. She could not remember having gone dizzy before she fell. She had certainly suffered from giddy spells and nausea early in her pregnancy, but had had no problems at all since the fourth month. She stood there, trying to piece together what had happened.

She had been speaking to Richard about the baby, and then something had hit her in the face, hard, and she had fallen. No, that could not be right. She looked round at the silks scattered across the floor. She had gone dizzy, and had caught the table with her face as she fell, knocking the box to the floor. That would explain the bruise. And Richard, concerned, had leapt up immediately to assist her. Yes, that was the only logical explanation. He was right. She would have to be more careful.                       
       
           



       

She knelt down with difficulty and began to gather the embroidery silks together, replacing them in the box, pausing only to wipe her tears away from time to time. Then she went to bed and lay awake for a long time.

Richard did not return home until the following morning.

* * *



"Your sister-in-law was in here yesterday," Sarah said indistinctly, her mouth full of hairpins. She bent over Caroline, expertly winding a strand of shining brown hair into a curl and pinning it in place on top of her head.

"Anne?" asked Beth, as though she had a whole tribe of sisters-in-law rather than just the one.

"Mmm," came the reply. She pushed a few more pins into Caroline's hair and then stood back to admire the effect. "There," she said. "It's nice, but it would look a lot less severe if you let me pull a few strands out and curl them to frame your face."

"No," said Caroline. "I want to look severe tonight. It won't help me to be taken seriously by a houseful of politicians if I look like the romantic heroine from one of those silly novels everyone's reading these days."

"I'm not reading them, my dear, I do assure you," said Sir Anthony from the corner of the shop, where he was poking about in various jars and boxes.

"You have done though," Caroline pointed out. "I distinctly remember you discussing Pamela once."

Sir Anthony looked up and smiled.

"Ah, yes," he replied. "But that was a long time ago and I did have an ulterior motive for doing so. I wished to engage the affections of my wife. I succeeded. I have not read a romantic novel since."

"You fraud," said Caroline good-naturedly. "Marrying a woman under false pretences. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I am, deeply," he said with complete insincerity, and went back to his perusal of Sarah's goods.

"How is Anne?" said Beth to Sarah.

"She said she was fine," Sarah replied. Sir Anthony looked up for a moment, then went back to his rummaging.

"I really must get round to visiting her," said Beth. "I've been hoping to see her at one of Isabella's evenings, but I suppose I'll have to bite the bullet and go and see her at home."

"I thought you liked her," said Caroline.

"I do. It's the thought of having to be civil to Richard without his company being diluted by lots of others that puts me off."

"She hasn't been out for three weeks," Sarah commented, casually. "She's been having dizzy spells, or so she says, and has decided to stay at home as much as possible until after the baby's born."

"Has she seen a physician?" asked Caroline. "She needs to take extra care of herself now. The baby could come at any time."

"I don't think she's seen one, no," said Sarah, gazing intently at Beth. "She was going to some regimental dinner of Richard's last night. It seems all the wives were expected to go and Richard was most adamant she attend. She came in to ask for something subtle to cover up a bruise over her eye."

"Did she?" said Beth, a strange tone in her voice.

"Yes. She said she'd had a dizzy spell and caught her face on the corner of the mantelpiece as she fell."

"Oh! How divine!" cried Sir Anthony rapturously from the corner.

"I managed to restyle her hair so that it covered the bruise," Sarah continued without paying the baronet the least attention. "With luck no one would have noticed it, especially in candlelight." She paused. "And I showed her how to apply rouge to cover up the other bruise on her cheek. It was a lot older than the one over her eye, because it had faded to yellow." The two women exchanged a private look of understanding, and then Sarah started to tidy away her pins and combs.

"Where on earth did you get these, my dear? I simply must have some!" Sir Anthony called insistently. The three women looked round to where he was sitting, a small box open on his knee. He held up his hand; in the centre of his pale blue doveskin palm was a tiny black silk carriage, pulled by a minute horse. "Isn't it exquisite?" he said breathlessly.

"They're very expensive," said Sarah, abandoning all her expert sales techniques in the presence of friends. "They're all cut out by hand."

"By some poor half-starved woman going blind in a cellar and earning a penny for ten, I expect," said Beth, exasperated. "Anthony, did you hear … "

"Well, yes, maybe, but nevertheless they are incomparable! Look at that!" He held up a tiny cat, complete with whiskers. "What do you think of that?"                       
       
           



       

"I think that you'll look even more ridiculous than you already do if you're seen in public with a cat stuck on your face," his wife replied, looking at the silk patch with disgust.

"Au contraire, my love. I will be the envy of society." He rummaged through the pot. "I will have one of each, Sarah," he said, closing the box and getting to his feet.

"There are twenty different patches, Sir Anthony," warned Sarah. "It will cost … "

"Oh, what matters cost, where fashion is concerned?" he cried.

"Anthony," Beth said. "Did you hear what Sarah just said about Anne?"

"Of course I did, my dear, I am not deaf," he replied pleasantly, taking Caroline's cloak and helping her on with it. "Anne is having dizzy spells. Did you suffer from such an affliction with Freddie, my dear?"

"No," said Caroline. "But of course it is possible, I suppose."

"Quite. Well, we must go. You do not wish to be late for the Cabinet, Caroline. We will take you home immediately."



"She is not having dizzy spells!" exploded Beth the moment they were in the carriage.

"How can you be sure?" Sir Anthony replied calmly, looking out of the window.

"Oh come on, Anthony!" she cried. "Caroline, you said yourself you didn't have them with Freddie! It's Richard, not the corner of the fireplace that's hit her."

"I didn't have them," Caroline agreed doubtfully. "But every woman's different, Beth. She could be having dizzy spells, but if she is, she should see a physician."

"Exactly!" said Beth triumphantly. "And if she hasn't, it's because he'll know that the only thing wrong with her is the swine she's married to!"

"Perhaps we should go and see her," said Caroline, "and try to persuade her to see a doctor."

"Yes, we should. And that's exactly what I intend to do, the moment we've dropped you off."

"No," said Sir Anthony, his eyes warning her not to pursue this while they had company. He glanced out of the window again.