Audrey stiffened. “Francis?” she said, knowing that wasn’t whom she meant.
Molly gave a tired laugh. “Now don’t you go fooling yourself. I was trying to sit up just now and saw you two out the window.”
Audrey hesitated, hating to lie, but feeling trapped. “Robert is … flattering.”
“Why do you seem unhappy about that?”
She decided to give a measure of truth. “I have only been under the control of other people. Before I marry, I need to be on my own for a bit.”
“It seems he’s letting you. He brought you here to live alone, didn’t he? Or is he pressing for a wedding date?”
“No. Sometimes I think the pressure is all from myself.” Audrey found herself straightening Molly’s blanket and then urging her to take another sip of water. “Are you hungry?”
“Francis said he’d have Evelyn bring me broth. Feels like that’s all I’ve had for days.”
“It is.” Audrey took her hand, felt the delicate bones. “You’re wasting away. I’ll see if Mrs. Sanford will prepare you something else.”
Molly yawned. “I think I’ll go back to sleep until then.”
“You do that, dear.”
Audrey slowly made her way down the servants’ stair to the kitchen. “Mrs. Sanford?”
“Aye, ma’am?”
She could hear the woman rolling something out on the big wooden table that took up the center of the kitchen. She gave her Molly’s request, and the woman snorted.
“I’ve nursed many a sick child, Mrs. Blake,” the housekeeper said, “and they all want more than’s good for them.”
Audrey thought about the child she’d never had the chance to nurse, and then let it go. Mrs. Sanford couldn’t know the unwelcome memories she stirred.
“Is there a stool I may sit upon?” Audrey asked, thinking that the woman might relax more in her own domain.
“Of course, ma’am.”
She felt one pushed against her skirts. “Thank you. What are you making?”
“Tarts. The earl likes them. And we’ve run out.”
Of course she’d want to prepare his favorite foods. “I cannot begin to express my thanks for those baskets you made for the tenants. They were so appreciative.”
“I’m glad.”
“Everyone seemed very nice. Has there ever been trouble with the tenants?”
“Not this group, ma’am. Mr. Drayton has done a fine job of findin’ married folks, and those with a history of payin’ their own way.”
“The cottages seem to be a decent size and well maintained.”
“The old Mr. Blake saw to that. Thought contented people did better work. Caused some uproar in these parts when other landowners were offended, but he didn’t care. He used to put on a feast every year, too, for all the tenants, but that stopped after his death, many years ago.”
“A feast?” Audrey echoed, intrigued. “That sounds lovely. I’ll have to discuss it with Mr. Drayton.” They hadn’t gone over much of the finances yet. But a feast might go a long way toward smoothing things over with both her tenants and her servants.
“Have you worked here long?” Audrey asked.
There was a momentary silence, and she knew Mrs. Sanford was debating carrying on their conversation.
“Since I was a girl. And when I wanted to marry, old Mr. Blake brought on my husband.”
