“Permit me to finish.” Annalise said as she sucked in another steadying breath. Beaufort nodded for her to continue, but she could tell doing so was difficult. “After the plaster incident, I continued my work in the terraced garden.” She closed her eyes to see the man’s attack again and because she did not wish to view Beaufort’s expression when he heard her tale. She knew without a doubt he would never think ill of his grandmother. “One of the men doing the brick work followed me into the garden.”
“Why would he do such a thing?” her husband demanded. “He should have been on the front side of the manor where the storm knocked down part of the chimney.”
“I cannot speak to his reasons, though I suspect I know what some would say to be his purpose,” she said as tears pooled in her eyes, and she opened them to look upon the confusion crossing her husband’s features. “Some would say that my tying the hem of my skirt higher so it would not drag through the newly turned soil was an invitation to the young man.”
“That is ridiculous!” Beaufort declared. “Who said such a thing? Who was the man?”
Annalise squared her shoulders before pronouncing the necessary words. “Lady Klare made the accusation, and your grandmother is the one who overrode my orders regarding the plaster work. Moreover, she stood by the garden wall marking the groomed lawns and did nothing to stop the man’s advances, though I called out twice for her interference.”
Annalise could tell from Beaufort’s facial expression he was skeptical about her account of what occurred. “The man’s name?” he demanded.
“Patrick Tanner,” she supplied.
“Paddy? He should not have been working on the house,” he confirmed. “The boy is not quite right in the head.”
“Perhaps, but he was with the others earlier in the day mixing themortar. In the garden, he appeared set on mischief,” Annalise stated in firm tones.
“How did you escape?” he asked with a deep frown. “Assuredly, he was not so daring as to touch a countess.”
“I could not understand what he said, for he spoke Gaelic. But he made to keep me from walking away from him and attempted to grab me,” she reluctantly admitted. “I had the rake in my hands when he appeared suddenly behind me. I used Alexander’s lessons with a sword and Lady Theodora’s with a bow staff to hit him along the side of his head and then under his chin. When he came at me a second time, having taken up the hoe, I swept his legs from beneath him with the handle of the rake and then ran to the kitchen.”
“Your brother will be quite proud of you, as well as himself,” Navan said half-heartedly.
“Yet, you are not, are you, Beaufort!” she accused.
“I said no such thing,” he protested. “I am simply attempting to understand how this all came about.”
“It came about, my lord, because you married an English woman whom your grandmother despises.” Annalise stated the obvious as she saw it.
“What could you have done to have her despise you enough to wish you harm?” he asked.
“You may figure it out for yourself,” she ordered. “You will not require an extra room for Miss Felix. The girl may share my quarters.”
“Should you not share quarters with your husband?” he questioned. “What will people think?”
“I am not returning to Klare Fields, my lord,” she said as the tears flowed more freely down her cheeks. “Mr. Felix is to see me to Cork City so I might book passage to England.”
“We are married,” he growled. “You may not leave without my permission.”
“You may force me to return with you, but know that my bloodshall be on your hands, sir,” she countered. “I may be made to remain by your side and made to follow your orders, but a servant is entitled to the privacy of her own bed.” When he glared at her as if she had opened a gulf between them, Annalise finished her accusation. “Tell me, my lord, how am I better off with you than I was with either Alexander Dutton or Jacob Moran? You promised before God that you would protect me, and I would follow your lead. Therefore, if you demand it, I shall return to your grandmother’s home and be surrounded by people who do not speak the same language as I and continue to be forbidden the pleasure of company, not even yours, and where I have been confined except on the one evening of the Sangran wedding. Whatever occurs there will rest on your shoulders.”
A soft knock at the door brought the innkeeper. Beaufort opened the door to the man. “I have the other room available, but I must have the young girl stay with me own daughter. The inn be full, my lord.”
Her husband glanced at her. “The girl may stay with my lady wife. If we could have another mattress to place before the fire, we three men could stay together.”
Though Annalise did not understand the man’s Gaelic response, the innkeeper sounded pleased when he said, “You are quite gracious, my lord.”
After he closed the door, Beaufort obviously thought to reach for her, but he dropped his hand back to his side. “I do not wish to lose you, Annalise. There is no need for you to leave.”
“If you say so, my lord.” She easily assumed an obedient stance, one very familiar to her.
“Please do not stand as if you are still under Moran’s influence again,” he ordered.
“As you wish, my lord,” she responded meekly.
Obviously angry with her response, he jerked open the door and stormed away, leaving her in a room, not hers. She remained as such, not even moving from the spot where she had made her stand againsther husband’s orders, until the innkeeper and Miss Felix arrived with her trunk. “This way, my lady,” Miss Felix said as she carried several bags. “It was very kind of you to permit me to stay with you.”
Beaufort went lookingfor Mr. Felix. “It is impossible,” he grumbled under his breath as he approached where Felix and O’Connor awaited him at one of the tables near the rear of the inn. He caught up a nearby chair to place it with the spindle back against the edge of the table, where he might straddle it. “Speak to me,” he ordered Felix.
