“Yes,” I answered. “Annie spooked the horse and sent us on that wild race across the grounds. She also appeared at the stream.”
Ella’s eyes were wide as I disclosed the detail. “Your Grace! She is attempting to harm you! If she sent your horse into a frenzy, she intended to cause you harm!”
I considered her statement. This marked the second occasion on which Annie’s actions caused me harm. Yet I remained steadfast in my conviction that she did not intend to injure me. “I disagree,” I answered and returned to perusing the family tree.
“Your Grace!” Ella objected.
I set the Bible on my lap. “She is communicating. If she was attempting to harm me, she could have done it a dozen different ways by now.”
“Communicating? Can she not speak?”
“She has not spoken yet,” I responded. “She may lack the ability due to her traumatic end.”
“But… you spoke with Samuel’s mother. She spoke.”
“Yes, she did,” I confirmed. “But Tilly and I were good friends. And Tilly’s death was far less violent. Tilly’s circumstances were entirely different.”
Ella shook her head. “It is all so complicated.”
“It can be. Which is why we must keep at it. Who was this child and what has she to do with Annie? Why did Annie insist I see her?”
Ella leaned over the book to study the family tree. “Are there any children listed who match your vision?”
I shook my head. “No, I do not see anyone.”
“Here,” Ella said, “what about Fiona?”
“No. The dates listed make her eleven, far too old to have been the child I saw.”
I snapped the Bible shut with a sigh. “No, there is no one listed here who died at that age.”
Ella’s shoulders sagged. “I am sorry, Your Grace.”
“Do not be. This has helped.”
“Helped? You have made no progress.”
“That is where you are incorrect, Sinclair! The progress I have made is ruling out other female relatives. No female Fletcher child died at that age. So, it is not an ancestor of the Fletchers. Of course, it could be a servant’s child. Though there is no reason for Annie to want to call my attention to her.”
My mood turned pensive as I considered the information. Ella frowned as she processed my comments. Her forehead wrinkled as she, too, sought to contribute an idea. “Sinclair,” I suggested. “Would you summon Buchanan? Perhaps he can shed some light on any children on the estate in Annie’s time.”
“At once, Your Grace,” Ella declared, leaping from the bed. She hurried from the room in search of Buchanan.
“Annie? Annie, are you there?” I called to the empty room.
Annie did not appear. I waited for someone, alive or dead, to appear. I drummed my fingers on my opposite arm, the toes on my good leg tapping the air. Oh, to be able to walk, I lamented, frustrated by my inability to move.
Several minutes passed before my bedroom door swung open. Ella entered with Buchanan. “Miss Sinclair said you requested to speak with me, Your Grace?”
“Yes, Buchanan. I hoped to ask you about a delicate matter.” Buchanan’s eyes slid sideways toward Ella before glancing back to me. “You may speak in earnest in front of the both of us,” I said. “Sinclair understands any information relayed here is to remain only between us.”
Buchanan nodded in understanding. “Of course, Your Grace. What is the nature of your inquiry?”
“Are you aware of any female children, around the age of three, who passed away on the estate in recent years?”
Buchanan’s thick brows furrowed, and he frowned, glancing at the floor. “Children?” his deep voice pondered aloud. After a moment, he shook his head and pursed his lips. “No. There haven’t been any children on the estate in many years. The last children were His Grace and Mr. Fletcher!”
“No servants had any children? Please do not suppress any information for fear of appearances. The information shall go nowhere.”
“Certainly not!” Buchanan assured me. “I have served in the household for many years, starting as a footman for His Grace’s parents and working toward my current position. In that time there have been no scandals. A tight rein was kept on this household! There was no funny business tolerated under this roof!” Buchanan raised his eyebrows, wagging his finger in the air.
“I understand. And I am certain Duke Blackmoore appreciates your vigor in the matter. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can be of assistance with, Your Grace?”
I considered the matter for a moment. I began to shake my head when an idea occurred to me. I glanced up at Buchanan. “Yes. Was the former Mrs. Fletcher ever with child?”
“No,” Buchanan answered. “There were no children.”
“And no pregnancies?”
Buchanan shook his head. “No, Your Grace.”
My brow crinkled at the answer. Another dead-end. I nodded. “Thank you, Buchanan. I am sorry to have disturbed your day. And I appreciate your discretion in not mentioning this conversation beyond us.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Buchanan bowed his head to me before departing.
Ella sunk onto the bed next to me. “Another dead end,” I lamented.
“I am sorry, Your Grace.”
“I suppose the next move is Annie’s. Now, we wait.”
Chapter 21
My ankle kept me abed for two days. Frustration grew in me as I sat unable to pursue any additional information. Though, I had no idea what information I would seek even if I was able. After three days, I could bear some weight on the ankle, though I remained cautious. I kept to my room, unwilling to traverse the long castle halls or climb the stairs to my tower room.
The books Ella brought kept me busy and, despite Nanny Browne’s objections, I spent a large amount of time with Samuel. On the afternoon of the third day, I reclined on my bed with Samuel. His fingers wrapped around one of mine as I cooed at him. Tilly’s blue scarf lay next to us. I kept it close to Samuel, insisting it adorn his crib regardless of Nanny’s objections. I grabbed it and held it over my face before pulling it away in a
