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.
‘You may know how to fight,’ she added, ‘but you could learn a thing or two about being pleasant.’
‘For me, pleasantries—’ his chin lowered ‘—were much more difficult to master than a simple punch. But I think I do rather well.’
‘Is it all a pretence?’ she asked.
‘Most of it.’ His eyes challenged her to make what she would of his words.
Her gaze mirrored his. ‘For most people their pleasantries are real.’
He gave one quick head shake. ‘It’s all a game. Quid pro quo.’
She raised her brows in question.
‘You do this for me and I’ll do that for you because some day I may need something else or you may and then we’ll work together because we are both working separately for our own interests.’
‘It’s a shame your mother died when you were so young. You might have believed in goodness otherwise.’
‘I suggest you do not leave your chaperon’s sight for one heartbeat.’ Then he stepped back, nodded to her, said a goodbye and gently shut the door.
Somehow she felt she’d been thrown under the wheels of a carriage.
She turned and walked back to her mother’s room.
‘Oh, my dear, we were just going to send for you.’ Her mother looked up, her pale dress flowing softly and pooling around her slippers. ‘The physician wishes to examine you so he can see how the treatment is going.’
He stood, the look of a schooled professional in his face and the monocle in his hand.
She waited, her demeanour that of a perfect patient, yet not looking at his face. She couldn’t get Barrett from her mind. Ever so politely, he’d shut the door in her face. The beast had shut the door in her face. No wonder he did not believe in kindness. He had none in him.
The physician touched the monocle to her skin. She didn’t move at the brush of the cold glass. Barrett’s eyes had chilled her more.
‘Oh. This is amazing. Amazing.’ He peered. ‘Her skin is perfect. After only one night of treatment. She’s cured.’ He stepped back.
‘After one night?’ she squeaked out the words. Relief. Disbelief and relief again. And then a memory of their guest, who seemed to know the physician, and then that Barrett had found her alone in the room the physician had sent her to.
Her mother clasped her hands in front of her. ‘How wonderful. Wondrous. Gavin, you are a physician without compare.’
‘Odd.’ She dotted her hand over her cheek. ‘I still feel the epidemeosis.’
‘Well, you may have a lingering