The door from the morning room opened once again and Mrs. Stibbons reappeared, followed by a swarm of servants that descended on the alcove where Anna sat with Desford. Within a short time, a small table had been placed on the flagstones, shaded by a huge oak tree. Two covers had been laid and large plates of food sat under shiny metal domes.

Anna thanked Mrs. Stibbons and waited for the last servant to leave before she rose and took a chair at the table, leaving her sewing on the bench. She opened her napkin and sighed happily. “I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.”

Desford brightened and started to rise. “I—”

“No, Desford. After you’ve finished your lessons.”

He blinked, astounded, and sank back onto the bench. “You would withhold my lunch?”

“And your dinner. And your breakfast tomorrow morning. We both have jobs to do, Desford. Yours is your lessons, mine is to see to it that you do them.”

“I won’t do them.”

“Then you will go hungry.” She picked up a piece of bread and spread marmalade across it, then took a generous bite. “Hm. I do so love orange marmalade.”

Desford stared resentfully as his governess took a bite of shepherd’s pie, the savory scent reaching even Anthony in the window far above. Anna commented on each bite, whether it was about the tenderness of the meat, or the excellent sauce Cook had poured over the potatoes.

Anthony almost chuckled aloud when Desford wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

It was amazing the way Anna approached her charges. She never spoke to them as if they were children, but rather as if they were little adults, capable of understanding the most obscure reasoning. Anthony was suddenly a little jealous of Desford. Certainly Anna had never gone to such lengths of trouble for him. Not yet, at least.

Anna pulled the cover off a dish. “Rice pudding. Isn’t that your favorite?”

Desford looked at the rice pudding with a longing expression. “Does it have sultanas?”

“Lots,” Anna said, scooping up a huge bite and putting it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, such a blissful expression on her face that Anthony chuckled. “Mmmmm.” She swallowed. “I must tell Cook that she’s outdone herself.”

The gentle breeze lifted a tendril of Anna’s hair and wafted the scent of cinnamon through Anthony’s window. He leaned against the window casement and watched as Desford slowly, slowly reached for his book and paper.

Anna ignored the child, merely refilling her dish when she finished the rice pudding. “You’d best hurry,” she said, looking at the bowl thoughtfully. “There’s not much left.”

Desford swallowed, then looked down at his paper. His brow creased. Slowly, by degrees, he began to work. Anthony noticed that Anna didn’t eat anything else, but sat quietly, her face lifted to the sun, a slight smile on her face.

Moments passed and finally Desford shut his book. “There. I finished.”

“Excellent! Now come and eat. Here is some pie. And look, I saved two tarts for you.”