After helping Leonor into a chair, Anne gave her a glass of water. She shouldn’t have forced the poor woman to speak. The curse was in riddles. Pedro wasn’t sad. He was merely missing his brother. And uncomfortable with their guests. She had made Leonor distraught for nothing. From now on, Anne would leave this folk tale well alone.
Chapter 7
Theairinsidethegreenhouse was thick with the earthy aroma of damp soil, mingled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers, the moisture condensing on Anne’s lips. Julia strolled among the potted herbs. Anne, her arms linked with Isabel, trailed behind her botanical-savvy sister-in-law. How difficult was it to ask their friends about Pedro?
Where had that thought come from? She refused to believe there was something wrong with him. The curse had nothing to do with his shifting moods. She was sure they would pass. She already knew the perfect cure for his… his mood. Still, after her attempts to show him how wonderful children could be had failed utterly, she needed a new plan.
Clara’s giggles echoed over the glass roof, pulling Anne from her thoughts. Flor arranged flowers in the little girl’s hair. Julia’s statuesque maid had a hairdressing talent, and with Isabel’s tiara crowning Clara’s black curls, she looked like a princess. After the picnic, Clara developed an adoration for Pedro. Anne couldn’t blame her. When he picked the girl up and saved her from the ants, a perfect knight in shining armor, warmth had infused Anne’s chest, and she had been certain her plan had worked. But nothing about Pedro was simple. As soon as his protective streak had flared, he banked it, assuming the aloof facade he showed to the outside world.
Julia, her brow furrowed in concentration, stopped by a green bush and extracted a leaf. “Lemon balm. I love the scent. Good for anxiety and insomnia. Tastes delicious in a tea.”
Isabel sniffed the plant. “I don’t have trouble sleeping.”
“It’s for me,” Julia said, lifting her brows.
Anne placed her hand atop Julia’s arm and pressed affectionately. Look at her, focusing on her own issues when her sister was worried. “My brother can be a cantankerous oaf sometimes, but he won’t send Tony away against your wishes.”
Julia closed her eyes. “I know. It’s just… Tony had always been like a bottle offrisante— lively, effervescent. All of a sudden, he turned into avinho verde, unpredictable and tart. And I have no knowledge of white wines.”
Isabel perked up. “Have you considered hiring a tutor? I heard German teachers are all the rage in court. I can arrange to import one for you if you wish.”
Anne smiled at Isabel’s princessing. At first, she thought Julia and Isabel would be too different to get along, but both women became friends. Isabel admired how Julia had turned an Englishman into a Portuguese Patriot, while Julia was grateful Isabel married Henrique, so the rakish scientist stopped pestering Griffin about their flirtations in the past. Anne loved them both, Julia as a dear sister and Isabel as her best friend.
“A German tutor? Why not? Prussia is famous for Rieslings. Perhaps he can teach me about white wine.” Julia shrugged. “Now for your digestive discomfort.”
“I wouldn’t utter it in so many words. It’s more of a little pain in my stomach.” Blushing, Isabel caressed her belly.
Anne felt a pang of jealousy. She had married first. Shouldn’t she be the first to give birth?
“I will gather some rose hips, chamomile, and peppermint, and you can take it in your tea. Should get you better soon.”
“My senses are so heightened lately… I can scent what the cook is up to from my bedroom and Henrique’s cologne. Goes to my head immediately.”
“It’s a perk of being pregnant. One of the good ones.”
Anne sighed, closing her eyes. Her hand went to her empty tummy, and a wave of longing hit her in the chest. The sun streamed through the greenhouse’s glass panels, casting elongated shadows on the plants. Anne traced the outline of a leaf with her finger. She wanted to talk about Pedro, about his moods, but the words seemed trapped, heavy in her throat. She glanced at her sister-in-law and friend, both engrossed in the healing properties of herbs.
Swallowing hard, she started, “Pedro has been…” Anne trailed off, her eyes darting away.
Her sister-in-law looked up. “What is it, dear?”
Anne took a deep breath, her eyes moistening. “It’s just… How did you both convince your husbands to…”
“Start selling wine by the bottle?” Julia grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“To think about starting a family?” Anne blurted.
Isabel exhaled, assuming a teacher-like expression. “A matter of diplomatic maneuvering. You have to raise his desire for fatherhood and let him think the idea was his.”
Anne nodded, her smile tugging at the sides of her face. Maneuvering Pedro? She would have better luck with a wild tiger.
She traced the rough bark of a potted tree. Tiny saplings surrounded the trunk like chicks around the mother hen. After the picnic debacle, she would have to face the truth… “And if the desire is foreign to him?”
Julia shook her head. “Really, Anne, Pedro will relent if you present him with your reasons in a business-like manner. It’s our bodies, and with a few exceptions, the father doesn’t even take much interest in rearing children.”
“I beg your pardon, little miss, but you should keep your talents in winemaking.” Flor placed her fists on her cocked hips. “I better give Aninha a piece of advice.” She covered Clara’s ears. “You don’t need diplomacy. That man of yours is so potent he can impregnate with his heated looks. All you have to do is seduce him.”
Anne’s cheeks heated, not accustomed to hearing such blunt words, but Flor, with all her flamboyant personality, had a heart of gold, and one had to admit she understood a lot about love and men.
