Page 88 of A Touch of Charm
“Your mother told me that she missed you.” Paul tsked. “I didn’t realize it was a hound she’d been looking for.”
“Better a hound than a rat spreading disease wherever it goes. Now, get out.”
“I’ll take Anna with—”
“You’ll not remove a patient from this rehabilitation center without the doctor’s explicit permission. And that doctor is me.”
With these words, Andre opened the door, and Paul huffed as he left.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Thea was sureshe’d heard Andre’s voice but came to the sunlit parlor and found Anna shuffling impatiently in the armchair.
“Oh, Anna, good afternoon!” Thea said when she saw a knocked-over cup and a puddle of cold tea in the saucer and on the doily.
“I wish it were, Thea,” Anna said, padding the mess with an already-soaked cotton napkin.
“I should ring for help—” Thea said, but Anna shook her head.
“Nobody can help me anymore.” And suddenly, leaning back in the chair, Anna seemed to have forgotten the spilled tea. Her gaze was so calm and absent when Thea followed it out the window that a shiver traveled down her back. Something terrible was the matter, not merely the spilled tea.
“Anna, please tell me what preoccupies you so much.” Thea sat in the chair across from Anna and reached for her friend’s hand.
But Anna withdrew and folded both of her hands over her stomach.
“He’s come to take me away,” Anna spoke in the direction of the window as if a ghostly figure had her captivated somewhere in the distance. “And then he will come to me, and I will lose the baby.” Anna stroked her stomach as if the tiny being inside of her needed her comfort, not vice versa. “I hoped my mother would be here when I left the rehabilitation center. I sent to her, but she’s older now and cannot travel as fast as he did. And now he’s going to.”
Thea swallowed hard, afraid to imagine what Anna’s husband would do to her.
A single tear ran down Anna’s right cheek, and she let it roll off her face and fall on the hand covering her stomach. “I thought that it would take longer. Somehow, I was glad I only broke my leg and that the baby was well.” She turned to Thea and blinked at her as if she’d seen her for the first time. “Do you know that Andre could hear the baby’s heartbeat with his stethoscope?”
Thea’s breath caught. “I didn’t.”
Anna beamed like the proud mother she’d be. “It’s swift, much faster than our adult heartbeats. But he said that’s normal for a tiny baby—” Suddenly, her breath hitched, and she nearly choked on tears, no doubt. “I don’t want my baby to die, Thea.” Anna broke into tears.
Thea was at sea—one filled with emotions she’d never known, yet they were coming all at once.
Thea stared down into her teacup, the remnants of the brew swirling like her thoughts. She felt a pang of guilt for Anna—yes, guilt had anchored itself firmly in her chest. But guilt wasn’t all. There was something sharper, deeper.
Fear.
Anna’s bravery inspired her, but it also terrified her. The woman was not much older than she, yet burdened with so much. And somehow, that realization shifted something inside Thea. She’d come to England to escape a loveless marriage, a trap. She’d started to look after Mary—to teach her Latin, arithmetic, and give her structure. But over the weeks, her purpose had grown. It wasn’t just about Mary anymore. She wanted to protect, to nurture, to care for a child. To have a family.
Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the fragile porcelain cup. Since Andre… since she’d fallen in love with Andre, it was clear. Her heart was ready.
Lost in the swirl of her own emotions, the sound of a voice echoed through the hall, wrenching her from her thoughts.
“We have to carry our trunks here?”
Thea’s stomach twisted violently as her pulse quickened. She knew that voice, though it took a full moment for her mind to align with recognition. Before she could breathe, Stan’s response followed, clipped and petulant. “No, but they are here for patients, not you.”
A dull rustling noise reverberated, unmistakably the sound of one brother giving another a shove—or maybe a punch. Thea’s pulse drummed in her ears, drowning out everything but the implications. Her brothers. Here.
She rose so suddenly that her teacup rattled against the saucer, nearly toppling onto the carpet. Her hands trembled as she set it down without noticing Anna’s gaze, sharp and concerned.
“Thea?” Anna’s voice was soft but probing. “Is something wrong?”
Thea grasped at words, desperate to form a coherent thought amidst the rising panic. “Anna… I—” she faltered, then tried again. “I mean, there’s someone—I should—”
