“That was very kind of you,” Ellie replied. “We had a great deal to talk about.”

“Did you?” Charles murmured. “Anything you'd care to share with me?”

Ellie sent a pointed look in Claire's direction. Claire answered her with a panicked expression, so Ellie said, “It will be all right, Claire.”

Claire merely handed a cup and saucer out to Charles and said, “This is for Ellie.”

Charles took them and sat down beside his wife. “Here you are,” he said, holding it to her lips. “Be careful. It's hot.”

She took a gulp and sighed happily. “Heaven. It's heaven right there in a hot cup of tea.”

Charles smiled and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “Now then,” he said, looking up at Claire. “What did you need to talk with Ellie about?”

Claire held out another cup and saucer in his direction before saying, “I needed to apologize to her.”

He took the cup and set it down on Ellie's bedside table. “Why was that?” he asked quietly, giving Ellie another sip of tea.

Claire looked as if she might bolt from the room at any second.

“Just tell him,” Ellie said quietly.

“It was my fault that Ellie was hurt today,” Claire finally admitted, her voice barely audible. “I moved the pot so the jam would burn. It did not occur to me that the handles would heat up so much as well.”

Ellie gasped as she watched Charles's face harden into an implacable mask. She'd known he'd be angry, had thought he might yell and rage a bit, but this silent fury was unnerving.

“Charles?” Claire choked out. “Please say something.”

Charles set Ellie's cup back down in its saucer with the slow, rigid movements of one whose control is about to snap. “I am trying to think of one good reason why I shouldn't pack you off and send you to a work house this minute. In fact,” he added, his voice rising by the second, “I am trying to think of one good reason why I shouldn't bloody well kill you!”

“Charles!” Ellie exclaimed.

But by now he was on his feet and advancing in Claire's direction. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

“Charles,” Ellie repeated.

“You stay out of this,” he snapped.

“I most certainly will not.”

Charles ignored her as he jabbed a finger in Claire's direction. “I suppose you're responsible for the kitchen fire as well.”

She nodded miserably, tears streaming down her face. “And the stew,” she gasped. “That was my fault, too. And the orangery.”

“Why, Claire? Why?”

She clutched at her midsection as she sobbed, “I can't say.”

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face him. “You will explain yourself to me, and you will do it this instant.”

“I can't!”

“Do you understand what you've done?” Charles shook her roughly and turned her to face Ellie's bed. “Look at her! Look at her hands! You did this.”