According to Plan

Chapter Twenty-Five

Anne was glad that Mr. Newman had spoken up to tell his mother that Thomas needed to go to bed. She had not dared to take the child away from Mrs. Newman, who had not even allowed her daughters more than a minute with him.

Mr. Newman had given the boy back to Anne and she had taken him to the dormitory. She wondered if the family were talking about her now. It was very likely and she did not mind. It was better than receiving questions in person, or indeed being told she was pretty. She might be, she supposed, but it was not of much use if she never talked.

Her future sisters did not talk very much either, not yet. They were a few years younger and had been brought up to be extremely prudent conversationalists. Anne wondered how Mrs. Newman, with such well-behaved daughters, really looked upon her son. There was no doubt that she was fond of him, but he had quite clearly not attended her school, or he had forgotten all of his lessons.

Anne pushed a bed against the wall, another bed against it and tucked Thomas into the furthest bed. The arrangement did not reassure her much. He could still topple over the headboard if he tried -- and he was too excited to sleep. It was better to heave the mattress onto the floor to sleep there. He might crawl away, but he would at least not hurt himself.

Thomas sat watching her as she worked. He looked rather uncomprehending and she explained it to him, although she did not have any hopes of him understanding the explanation. She tapped the bed when she was done, inviting him to crawl towards her. He laughed and crawled the other way.

"Thomas!" she cried. Although she was not yet dressed for sleep, she lay down under the blankets to see if that had any effect on him. It did not immediately work and she sat up again. Of course she could grab him, but perhaps he could already listen. "Thomas? Come to me."

These words only served to bring Mr. Newman to her. He sat down on the other end of her mattress.

"Where did you come from, sir?" she asked with a start.

"The door. Am I to sleep on the floor as well?"

"You are to sleep wherever you like, of course, but I thought Thomas and I had best sleep on the floor so he cannot fall. I thought I should be nearby so I can hear him move about."

"I wish you had waited for me to move the mattresses."

"Why, sir?"

"It looks like hard work."

"It will be much harder work to get them back onto the beds when we leave. I shall wait for you then," she said with a little smile.

Robert had never noticed a problem with Thomas around bedtime at home, certainly nothing that had required his assistance and he had not counted on having to help here either, but Thomas decided there was something not to his liking and he became unmanageable.

There were distressing sounds coming out of the room with the washbasin and Robert wondered why he was not called in for help. He listened from behind the door, but his questions and knocks went unheeded. When he could not take any more of this frustration, he entered.

It was clear why Anne had not called him in -- she was not fit to be seen and Thomas was not giving her any chance to change that. He was crying very loudly and he had spit on everything in sight, or perhaps he had spit in one place and crawled through it.

Thankfully Anne displayed some sense by not being angry that he had come in, Robert thought, but a second later he doubted her sense when she, not properly dressed and covered in disgusting stuff, threw herself into his arms. Now he was dirty too. He wanted to look at it in dismay, but he saw nothing but shoulders. "Well, this is one way of ensuring I cannot see anything," he remarked.

"I wonder how you can even think of seeing anything at this moment!" she exclaimed, sounding very upset.

Her face, at least, was clean and he gave her a kiss. "Be calm and tell me what happened."

Her lip trembled. "I was almost in my nightgown when he began to spit. I picked him up when he was done, because he sat in the middle of it, and then he had some more to share -- which is now all over your shirt. I am sorry."

Robert kept a firm hold on her. "Think nothing of it. Is he empty now?"

"I did not even know he was this full!"

"Does he have an upset stomach, do you think?" He glanced at his son, who sat on the floor looking pathetic, but at least he was not crying with sound anymore. "Is he ill?"

"I do not know." She sounded miserable and she hid her face against his shoulder.

There was a problem, but it had to be solved. "Anne, listen. Fill the washbasin and clean Thomas first. Then we put him in bed and see to ourselves. If we first change into something clean, he will get us dirty again because he has no idea he is dirty."

"I do not want to move."

"I understand that, but if I must spend much longer in this stench, my stomach will be upset as well. Please."

She groaned and turned to fill the washbasin. Robert began to undress Thomas and tried to keep himself as clean as possible. He talked softly to his son as he worked. When he turned to see if the washbasin was full yet, he saw Anne was wearing her nightgown. "Anne," he sighed, although he was somewhat amused at her smugly challenging look. "If that gets dirty you must sleep all night without one."

"Under the circumstances that is very inappropriate teasing," she said a little stiffly. "Your mother would not approve, nor of my walking about without being properly dressed."

"My mother considers you to be my wife and wives do not care."

"This one does."

"You are a character, miss." He lowered Thomas into the washbasin and was treated to a new burst of wailing. "Oh, he does not like cold water. Well, we have no choice. I shall make it quick." He splashed enough water onto Thomas to clean him.

When he was finished Anne wrapped the wet boy into a towel and rubbed him warm. "The poor little thing. Oh, Mr. Newman, would you please keep that on?" she cried.

"No," he replied, rinsing his shirt. "It is dirty and it smells."

"It is very distressing."

He refrained from looking at her. "I would rather you got used to the sight than that I got used to the smell."

"I do not know if I wish to be married if being a wife is so distressing," she said in a small voice.

He pulled his shirt back on. The wet spots made him shiver, but he hoped they would dry quickly enough. "There. All your distress can now be over. Although, really, you could have left the room as well."

"Yes, I suppose so, but I thought not looking would be easier." She gave him a covert glance. "What are you going to do in a wet shirt?"

"I must arrange for someone to clean the floor first. Why do you and Thomas not lie down?"

Anne had placed Thomas in his bed. He had quieted down and she hoped he would not spit again. It might be the change of scenery that had brought on the sickness. He might have been overexcited by seeing so many new people and having to go to sleep in such a strange-looking place. She talked to him softly so he would forget where he was, while keeping an eye out for Mr. Newman.

She had behaved in a very silly manner, she feared, by throwing herself into his arms so desperately. He would have preferred her to handle the situation adequately, like he had done himself. She was not yet a good mother. Perhaps she would still learn.

As for being a good wife, Mr. Newman's ideas of a good wife puzzled her. He seemed to want her to run about with very little clothing on, but that was odd. She reflected on the matter until he returned, but it could only be cleared up by asking him questions.

He had managed to change into his nightshirt somewhere and he looked all ready for bed. "Has he spit again?" he asked, looking down at them.

She sat up. "No, sir."

"Good. My mother thinks he might simply be tired or upset. She did not think he sounded ill, but if he does anything odd during the night we can wake her."

"Your mother," Anne repeated in alarm, although she was relieved by Mrs. Newman's offer. She was not certain she would have her woken, but the idea that she would not have to deal with anything all by herself was reassuring. "I hope you did not relate all the particulars to her."

He smiled a little. "Oh, which?"

"Those. And what should a good wife do, I wondered?" Anne asked her pressing question.

He smiled some more. "Precisely what do you think you did not do right?"

"Well." She looked confused when his smile implied there was nothing. There should not have been such a mess, for one, and there was more. "You did not think I should have put on my nightgown."

"I did not think it would be possible for you to do so in the middle of doing everything else," he corrected patiently. "But I am in awe of your ability to think and do two things at once."

Her confusion had not lessened. "Are you serious?"

"Almost. I want to be serious, but I cannot be."

"Why not?"

He knelt beside her mattress. "Please, I am trying. I cannot be entirely serious because I do not perceive any problem. Well, one," he added reflectively.

She gasped. "Which is?"

"Sir. You must not call me sir. You must practise not saying it. Perhaps I should not listen to you unless you say Robert." He considered that idea. "Yes. Now wish me good night."

"Good night."

"Good night, Anne."

"Good night," she maintained stubbornly.

He laughed at her and went to his bed.

Chapter Twenty-Six

It was only the first night that had been problematic. The remainder of their stay passed without distressing incidents. Consequently Anne's greatest problem had been Mr. Newman wishing to be called Robert. He had persisted in reminding her at least once a day, but although she had stopped addressing him as Mr. Newman altogether, she could still not bring herself to speak in such a familiar manner. She did think of him as such, but she wisely did not let him know.

Anne had thought it vital for good family relationships to have a little more courage while talking to Mrs. Newman, to whose daily concerns she could more easily relate than to those of rich ladies of leisure who were chased by gentlemen of leisure, both of whom had too much time to ride around. There was something more real about the less wealthy, she felt, although the duchess' problem had been very real as well. It was, however, not something that occurred to ordinary women.

Mrs. Newman began to consider her a model of good sense and one to whom the upbringing of the two male Newmans could be trusted. Her advice about Thomas was welcome, whereas her advice about Robert bordered on the amusing. Anne did not know if she should follow it all. Perhaps he had peculiar methods that did not quite suit his mother's notions of propriety and breeding, but they were effective.

The dormitory arrangement was something that did not sit quite well with Mrs. Newman, although she stressed she had had no other choice. "I could never recommend such an arrangement under different circumstances. You must not think I would."

"I never thought so. I should not easily have agreed under different circumstances," Anne assured her.

"Not easily?"

"I can trust ... Mr. Newman." She could not yet say his name to his mother. She would have to say it to him first. "But we were not ... so familiar with each other as to make me very comfortable with the arrangement. I accepted it because there was no choice."

"You were not, but you are now?"

"I am very thankful for not having it all sprung on me at once," Anne said cautiously. "Because that first evening when Thomas spit on everything and Mr. Newman washed the spit off his own shirt in my presence I really thought marriage would be too distressing for me. But he never did it again."

"Thomas?"

"No, Mr. Newman. So perhaps it is not as distressing as it seemed."

Robert had spent some time with his sisters while Anne spent time with his mother. They turned out to be far more curious than their mother would allow, yet for fear of being berated afterwards he tried not to tell them too much. The two eldest who lived at the school had caught on that he was not yet married, but the youngest had not.

The two eldest questioned him hesitantly in private. They were elegant and educated young ladies, and could not display too much curiosity. "But how could Mama put you in the dormitory?" asked Evie. "She could have used our room for you."

"No, she could not," Rosie said regretfully. "We need to be nearby because of her leg. We leave the connecting door open," she explained to her brother. "So she may call us. It would have been odd had Mama separated you from your family or even placed you in the adjoining room to see to our duties."

Evie spoke again. "But what was it like in the dormitory? I presume you do not have one at home."

He was amused at her question. She might appear elegant and grown up, but she was only barely out of school. "Well, Evie --"

She looked very serious. "Evangeline, now that I have finished school."

"Evangeline, you know what it is like in a dormitory. Did you not sleep in one only a year ago?"

"But you were there with your nanny!" she whispered.

"Which is really the most convenient arrangement if there is a small child. He must be watched every second and one person does not suffice because he has no cot he may be put into to keep him safe." Robert thought that was an excellent explanation and it seemed to satisfy his sisters too.

They had more questions, however. "Did you want to be married because you needed a wife to look after Thomas or did you really want a new wife?"

"I got a nanny for Thomas and then I liked her." It would not be a marriage of convenience. He knew that much.

"Better than Sarah?"

He had known there would be someone to ask the question eventually and the last thing he wanted was to seem unfair to her. He had been happy and he had grieved. He could not have done anything else, although he felt powerless that this was all and that she had been dead for longer than he had been married to her. "Differently."

"But not better?"

"They are two different people. Would you like Rosie better than me? I have no doubt I shall like Anne better, simply because she is alive. She is different. I have to be different too. I have to imagine myself in her position." He wondered why he had never had to do that before.

"Oh well," said Evie, who was the more talkative of the two. "I did not really know Sarah anyway. I think we saw her twice. I am sure we shall come to like Anne very well. She does not talk at all, but she seems sweet."

"Yes, she is." He had no problems admitting that. "She is also very clever."

"Do you think you could persuade Mama to give Thomas up? She has been monopolising him since you arrived and you are leaving tomorrow."

"Well, he is her only grandson."

"And he is our only nephew. We should like some time with him."

Robert promised to see what he could do.

"Mama, the girls want their nephew," he announced. "They want to play with him because he is going away tomorrow and you have had him all this while."

"Aw," she said, looking down at the boy in her lap. "I suppose so. You sit by me then, Robbie."

Robert caught Anne's look and he tried not to laugh. He gave Thomas to her. "I think they went to the music room to practise. It is directly at the foot of the stairs."

"Yes...Robbie," she mouthed with a bewildered expression.

Anne felt some sadness on their last night in the dormitory. Although she had earlier today said to Mrs. Newman that it was not as distressing as it seemed, that had in fact been somewhat of an understatement. She had come to enjoy their bedtime chats and their games with Thomas. It was a pity that tomorrow she would be all alone again and that she would have to think of saying everything before she went to her own room.

As she was chasing after Thomas, she passed Mr. Newman's bed. He had not slept on the floor and he was in his bed, watching everything from above. She leant against his bed to talk to him. "I hope he has not grown so used to such a bed that he will start crying in the morning because he cannot get out by himself."

"I wish he would."

"You do?" Anne looked away from Thomas for a second to stare at Mr. Newman. He must have some reason for that.

"I ought not, but I do."

"Why?"

"I liked having the two of you so near," he confessed.

"Yes," she smiled and looked at Thomas again. She had liked it too. "Both of us?"

"Yes. But it is not a good thing to make the same arrangements for him at home. I confess the only reason I could have for it would be to have you there, so you must stop me if I ever suggest it."

Anne gave him another glance. "You would want only me there? On the floor?"

"Yes, only you, because you are the only one who can talk -- if we could get your mattress back before Mrs. Farrell comes in."

"Mrs. Farrell," she mused, but she found she was not opposed to the idea at all. There was nothing distressing about it in the least. It would be exactly the same as here, but without Thomas. "Would she care?"

"Goodness knows where she thinks you have been sleeping until now," he realised.

"Apart from in my own bed?" she wondered. "Where could I have been?"

"In mine, for instance. Especially now that we are away and she cannot check. But no, that will not do. You go on the floor or you go in your own bed."

"You know I shall leave that up to you, do you not?" She would go along with either suggestion, but she would not be so forward as to make a decision on her own. Girls should not be so forward, as she was certain her new mother-in-law would agree. "I really should not even be talking about this."

"Not to anybody else, but to me, yes. You keep forgetting that you agreed to marry me."

"Oh, no," she assured him. "I have not forgotten."

"But you have not once said Robert." He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to look stern.

She began to giggle. "But I did once almost say Robbie. I thought you noticed."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The return trip had gone well and Anne was glad to be home again and a mistress of her own time, as much as Thomas would allow her. She could now at least escape again, though never for long. Mr. Newman had said they should first thank Her Grace for the use of her carriage, or perhaps he simply wished to show nothing had happened to Anne in their absence. She grudgingly agreed to the visit, because it would be short.

She trailed along to the great house, where they were taken to see Her Grace. Anne was a little frightened to see that the duchess and her cousin were in the company of two young gentlemen whom she had merely seen go by in church. They were introduced as the Duke of Muncester and Mr. George Lenton, but that did not make her more at ease. She hoped nobody would ask her anything, because she would not be able to speak in front of two strangers.

The duke displayed very little interest in her, but Mr. Lenton looked a little disappointed upon hearing she was Mrs. Newman. Anne herself was surprised to hear she was Mrs. Newman here as well, but she was not the type to speak up. News of village weddings did not seem to have reached the pair, which was curious. She supposed they had been away.

"I hope your visit went well, Mr. Newman," said the duchess.

"Yes, thank you. We came to thank you for your generous offer of your carriage."

"Naturally. I hardly use it. What did your mother say to your news?"

"Er ... my mother ... er..." He gave the two young gentlemen a glance. "She could only approve."

"I do not suppose you have ever done very much to make her distrust you."

"One never knows with mothers," he said.

Anne caught a look of complete agreement on the duke's face. Although given what she had heard of him she did not think he deserved an easy time, she did not think even an angel of a boy would have an easy time with the duchess for a mother. She would have done better with a daughter.

"I am glad mine is dead!" cried Mr. Lenton, but there was no approval for this comment from anybody else.

"And I am glad you are leaving tomorrow," the duchess informed him.

"Let us play," the duke suggested to his cousin. He seemed to sense that this was better than staying. "Will you allow us to leave you, Mama?"

"Yes, go," she gestured and waited until they had left. "Now we can speak more freely. Your mother approved?"

"She runs a school. She could not advertise the fact that I had come there without being married, so she had to call Anne Mrs. Newman. Other than that I think she did not mind anything." He looked at Anne to see if she had anything else to say, but she shook her head.

"She would not have appreciated it had you come alone," the duchess stated. "Given how soon you will be married, she will have liked the opportunity to save you betimes, should that have been necessary."

"Mothers like that," Mrs. Black said to Anne. "Did you not find it too distressing to meet her?"

"Yes, but I did not expect her to love me instantly and I understood what she said about her good name, so I found it much more distressing that she placed us in the same room," Anne revealed.

"I beg your pardon? For sleeping?" The duchess nearly had a fit.

"It was a dormitory with six beds, Your Grace," Mr. Newman explained. "There was really nothing very distressing about it. There was no other space for us because we had not warned her beforehand."

"But you took off your shirt," Anne said a little accusingly, before she realised that perhaps she should not.

Her Grace still looked faint. "One does not do that in front of ladies."

"My dear," Mrs. Black cut in. "I should hope he did, given that he stayed there a week."

Anne deduced from Mrs. Black's expression that Mr. Black had never shared the duchess' opinion. She did not know whom to follow in this matter. The duchess felt unequal to remaining in the room with such scandalous people, she supposed, for she left. It made Anne rather anxious. She had not intended to make such an ill-bred comment that upset the duchess, especially now that she was to marry her steward and they might be in company more often.

"Do not mind my cousin," Mrs. Black reassured her. "Her theory will soon prove untenable even to herself. Then she will pity you exceedingly and be very kind."

"There was baby spit all over my shirt," Mr. Newman said a little tersely. He did not want to be accused of bad behaviour.

"Then she will pity you exceedingly as well," Mrs. Black said cheerfully. "The larger the house, the greater the distress! All the poor families who are eight or nine to a room cannot afford any distress at all."

Anne quietly considered that perspective on the matter. It was probably very correct. Her distress ought to be somewhere in the middle, with the duchess' extreme sensibilities on the one hand and the poor families on the other. Perhaps they even qualified as a poor family who had to be three to a room. She had been able to afford only a few moments of distress.

Mr. Newman was impatient to move to another topic, since he had very likely not experienced any distress at all. "What did the village say to the news?"

"That they had always known you would."

"Yes, I told them so from the start. They cannot deny that I did."

"Oh, they knew before you told them," said Mrs. Black. "Mrs. Tompkins swears that she predicted it the moment you started looking for nannies."

"That is so very clever of her. Even before I knew it myself and before she knew I was looking, because I never told her when I began," he said sarcastically. "But I suppose this is very good for us, to have the decision accepted."

"Of course they did quiz Mrs. Farrell -- or rather, her daughters, because you might have asked Mrs. Farrell to remain silent."

"Of course, but they had nothing of interest to say," he said confidently.

Anne had a question. "But if they were already questioned, they will not likely be questioned again?" In that case Mr. Newman -- Robert -- might feel less hesitation to drag mattresses back and forth. Yes, if he was to do that, he must be Robert.

"I am sure you can do as you please now," Mrs. Black said with a smile. "Not only are they not likely to ask Mrs. Farrell for daily updates, but she is also not likely to answer. But Anne, you might want to consider leaving Mr. Newman's shirt out of any conversation on the subject."

Anne blushed. "I know that! Now I do. And I knew it before. But not when I said it."

"Did you have plans?" Robert inquired when they walked back to his house. He liked plans and he would be very interested if any plans were being hatched that involved him. "You asked whether Mrs. Farrell would be questioned again, as if you had plans."

Anne did not immediately confess to any. "I thought you did."

"Perhaps. But if my taking off my shirt distresses you so much, perhaps not." He gave her a teasing glance. In spite of her words, she had not become angry, nor had she fainted. It was the duchess who would, but she had probably been brought up to think it extremely sinful. She had never come back to the room, yet Mrs. Black had not been too concerned about that. Mrs. Black, at least, was sensible.

"But I had never seen such a thing before," Anne protested.

He had been assuming it was something like that, but now she had and therefore a second time could only be much less unnerving. He was not at all concerned. "You have Thomas crawl around without any clothes on and you take offence at my shirt going off? I am merely an older version of Thomas."

"Well!" Anne cried, colouring. "I hope you will not crawl around without any clothes on to prove that point!"

He laughed at her. "Good plan."

"No, no, no!"

"How could you even fear it?" he said more kindly. "Crawl? A grown man? I would rather walk."

Anne gave a shriek and ran away from him, which was only possible because she was not the one carrying Thomas. She did not run too far ahead, but she came back more slowly, waiting for him to catch up with her.

He laughed at her again. "We are not really planning that, are we?" he asked Thomas, although he made it look like a secretive communication and he had the amusement of seeing Anne look suspicious.

Thomas wanted to go after her, but he did not realise he was on his father's arm and thus not in control of their movements. He had to make do with stretching out his arms and kicking. "Anne!" he cried.

"Well, you try it yourself then." Robert set him on the ground. "If you want to go to Anne, you must walk. If Papa goes to Anne, she will run away." He held him by the hands. "Anne? Do not make it too far for him to try, if he wants to do it at all."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Thomas had walked a few steps and considering the praise and cuddles he received, it was not unlikely that he would try again. Anne was thrilled by his achievement and she completely forgot all about Robert's naughtiness. She was even excited enough to take his arm as they walked home.

At home, she tried to coax more steps out of the little boy while Robert prepared something to eat. Thomas could take a few steps and then he fell over, but he did not let this discourage him. He kept trying and he was upset when he was lifted up and seated at the dinner table.

"He must eat something," said Robert. "He will not realise it, but he will wake us in the middle of the night if he does not. Be a good boy, Thomas. After eating you may walk as much as you like."

"Er..." Anne protested when she imagined him wanting to walk throughout the night. "I may want to go to bed at some point."

"Do you think he will not?"

She tried to judge the extent of his excitement. "Not before me. We are in another house again. Perhaps he will spit?"

She was fortunate, however, because an hour after dinner Thomas decided he was tired and he curled up in her lap. She carried him to his bed and got him ready for that while he was half asleep. Then she returned downstairs in a thoughtful mood. After sharing such excitement she was not looking forward to going to her room all alone. What was she to do with her comments and speculations in that case? She would forget them all if she was to postpone them until the morning.

"Do you like shifting mattresses?" she asked after having circled Robert hesitantly.

He was reading his mail, which was not much. He looked up when she asked her question, although he had noticed her walking around him. "I do..." he said slowly.

"Would you help me shift one?"

He laid his mail aside. "Naturally. Would you like to go to sleep or merely prepare your bed? Do I come back here afterwards or not?"

"I thought we might as well talk up there if you have nothing else to do here."

"Do you mean talk while we shift? Or talk after it has been shifted?" he teased.

"You know what I mean," Anne said in exasperation, running back upstairs. She was excited by her own boldness.

He grinned to himself and checked whether everything downstairs was ready for the night. Then he followed her. He found her in the last stages of getting into her nightgown. Her speed was amazing. A few moments ago she had been downstairs completely dressed and now she only had to pull that last bit down from her knees to her ankles. "Anne, you --" he shook his head.

She looked smug at having been so quick. "You did not knock."

"No, of course I did not knock. Would you have expected somebody to be changing into her nightgown a mere minute after having seen her dressed?"

"I suppose not," she admitted. "But I did not expect you to be so quick either."

He stood looking at the bed. "If you will take the pillow -- no, if you will take one end..." It was some hard work to drag the mattress to his room, but finally it was accomplished. Robert panted for show. "And you want me to do this twice a day?"

"It does go faster if you help," Anne said demurely. "But perhaps if I do not like it at all, I shall not ask for it tomorrow."

"Anne, is it really you?" he wondered.

"I am very happy to be home again," she said gravely. She had been wondering the same thing. "It makes me behave unlike myself."

"Really?" He removed his coat and began to work on his shirt. There was a quick way to test that.

"No!" she cried.

"Ah, it is really you." Robert smiled.

Robert had been willing to be considerate and he had not distressed her further. It was after all already a great improvement that she had made a request. He supposed she was either very happy to be home again or very nervous about being here, for she talked more than she ever had before. "Anne," he said at some point when he had already found himself yawning a few times. "Why do you talk so much?"

"Because you always want me to -- and because today I want to talk myself as well."

"And tomorrow?"

"I do not yet know. Do you like it? Perhaps I shall talk less tomorrow, because it will be another sort of day. We shall not have come home and Thomas will not have walked and there will be less to talk about."

He chuckled. "I never thought there would be a moment that I should have to ask you to stop talking."

"Indeed! Perhaps you should not. It may discourage me," she said teasingly.

He left his bed and approached her mattress. "Anne! Have you got a fever? Will you spit? You sound a little overexcited." This was not the best time for such excitement. Although they had gone to bed early, they had talked so much as to make it very late regardless and Anne did not sound the least bit tired. It was very worrisome.

"Yes, yes, I am. I do not think I shall spit, but perhaps I shall not sleep either. Where are you, because you sound as if you got out of bed, very nearby," Anne said suspiciously.

"Here." Robert stretched out his hand and touched her. "I came to see whether you are all right. Where is your forehead?"

She took his hand and placed it there. "Am I all right?"

"No, you are not. I have no idea how to get you calm and quiet again." He could drag the mattress back to her room, but he was not looking forward to doing so in the darkness.

"I wish I could help you. Perhaps you ought to send me back to my room."

"Yes...but I am tired and I wish there was an easier way to silence you. You see, once we are married I may not be able to send you away either, so I must try to find another way."

"Will you take my room away from me once we are married?" Anne inquired archly. "Do you mean your nanny has more privileges than your wife?"

He groaned. "Anne, please! Sleep! Now!"

"Oh, but I cannot," she said in a small voice. "I have tried, but I cannot lie still and you keep talking to me."

Apart from frustrating it was also becoming cold to be out of bed. He sighed and lifted the bedclothes. "I am sure you can lie still."

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"I am going to keep you still." He breathed a sigh of relief when he had her immobilised on her side and she had not uttered a word. He supposed she had been too startled to do so. "There. Still. And if you speak another word I shall lay my hand over your mouth."

"And do you think I can sleep --"

He quickly clasped his hand over her mouth. "You cannot move. You cannot talk. You have no choice but to sleep."

When Anne woke she was alone. She sat up instantly and looked around, wondering if she had been dreaming. Robert was getting dressed in a corner and although he was far from finished, she had to address him anyway. "I am sorry I talked so much," she said contritely. She had vague memories of being rather foolish.

"It was odd," he agreed. "How are you today?"

"Normal, I think," she replied, trying see how he felt about it. He was very calm.

"Normal," he repeated in a bemused voice. "I am getting dressed, Anne."

She had noticed that, but something else had been more important. "Getting dressed is very good. It is getting undressed that is not."

"Normal," he said again, shaking his head. He did not really agree, but if from now on this was going to count as normal he would be very satisfied.

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