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Even a commoner can address a queen, eh?”
    She looked him over. He was acceptable-looking and neatly dressed, which made his bitter expression and sneer all the more shocking somehow. One generally associated rudeness with the ill-kempt and dirty. She decided to ignore him and held tightly to the two children’s hands as she searched for a sign that her carriage was being brought around.
    “That is the man Father let go,” Angelica whispered.
    “Yer coach’ll be here soon.” The fellow spat on the ground again. “’E’s evil, y’know,” he said, pointing one stubby finger at Jacob. “I seen with me own eyes that look he gave the mare, an’ then she miscarried. ’E done it. Give it the evil eye.”
    “Angelica, take Jacob around to the front while I see what is keeping the carriage,” Theresa said, her voice tight with anger. She was not afraid of the groom, as there were others near enough that he would try nothing foolish. As Angelica hurried around the corner with her brother, Theresa said, “You will stop your foolish talk immediately. If I hear you maligning that poor boy again, I will—”
    “You’ll what, milady? ’Ave me dismissed? They’re lucky to get me here, an’ they know it. But that there boy caused me to lose a soft job, an’ interfered with a promising bit o’ fun with Dora. So I be thinkin’ the Martindale brats oughta consider a new home, back in London, where they belong.”
    A promising bit of fun with Dora? Theresa opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but she would not lower herself to speak with this man. She turned and strode toward the stable, calling out, “What is keeping my carriage?”
    A scared-looking groom, probably threatened by the other man to hold back the carriage, led the team forward; Theresa’s driver followed, swearing at him in colorful language. When he saw his mistress, he stopped abruptly.
    “Pardon, milady,” Anthony said. “But this dolt swore there was something wrong with the strapping and would not send the carriage out until he had inspected every harness. I told him—”
    “Never mind, Anthony,” Theresa said, through clenched teeth. “The children are waiting.”
    Though she tried to talk normally over the journey home, she feared that she failed, judging by Angelica’s worried glances. She returned the children and Dora to Meadowlark Mansion.
    Theresa did not descend from the carriage, but as the children headed toward the front door, she said, “Dora, may I ask you something?”
    The girl turned back. “Yes, milady?”
    She gazed down into Dora’s innocent blue eyes. How to frame this question delicately? “Have you ever had any trouble with any of the staff here, say, one of the grooms?”
    The girl colored a bright red and tears welled up into her eyes. “I didn’t do nothin’ wrong, milady, honest. It was that Bill Johnson; he . . . he tried to kiss me, an’ only let me go when young Master Jacob wandered into the stable an’ saw what he was doin’.”
    That explained much, Theresa thought; it explained the original accusation of the “evil eye.” The man had figured to discredit Jacob if he said anything, not knowing, perhaps, that the boy was silent. And now he was angry at losing his job, and all over nothing. And yet he had chosen the most insidious manner of persecuting the child.
    She glanced back at the girl to find her crying.
    “Whatever is wrong, Dora?”
    “I’m going to be sacked now, an’ all ’cause o’ that rotter Bill Johnson.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Theresa said briskly. “Why should you be let go because of an evil fellow like that man? Tell Mr. Martindale I shall be waiting for him tomorrow morning. I am going into St. Mark with him, if he remembers. We can go now, Anthony,” she said more loudly to her driver.
    It seemed that her plan was necessary after all, and since it was already set in motion, she had nothing to regret.

Nine
     
     
    James Martindale dressed unusually