Lady of Milkweed Manor (23 page)

“But I did not send a letter.”

“A letter from a physician, a Dr. Taylor.”

“Dr. Taylor wrote to you?”

“Yes.” Her aunt sat beside her, withdrew a folded note from her reticule, and handed it to her. “Very wise, really. Your uncle would have recognized your hand and chastised me. He might have read this directly and not known it pertained to you.”

Charlotte read the brief note quickly.

To Mrs. Amelia Tilney,

Madam, I thank you for your interest and support of our work at the Manor Home in the past. I am writing to inform you of a new development here which will be of particular interest to you. In fact, we are in need of the wise counsel that your past association uniquely equips you to offer. We understand you are a person with innumerable commitments and restraints upon your leisure, but do urgently hope you will find the time. Our facilities are open to you at any hour. Please do call on us as at your earliest convenience.

Most sincerely,

Dr. Daniel Taylor

Physician, The Manor Home for Unwed Mothers

“I never asked him to write,” Charlotte said, still staring at the letter. “I do not see how you understand anything from these few lines.”

“I read between them, as they say. What has happened?”

Charlotte handed back the note. “I had a child. A son. But he is gone. Lost to me.”

The tears that sprang immediately to her aunt’s large brown eyes were salve to Charlotte’s soul. Her mother’s sister sat next to her on the bench and laid gloved fingertips on Charlotte’s hand. “My dear girl. How long ago?”

“He was born ten days ago. I had him for six days. Six very short days.”

“I am so sorry, my dear. So very sorry. How this loss must pain you.

“Indeed it does. At times I can barely breathe for it.”

“I understand. And yet, who can question God’s will? Perhaps He allowed this so you might return to your family.”

“I do not see how this changes anything.”

“But it does! The evidence is-“

“Evidence! He was not evidence-he was my son. My precious little boy, my heart.”

“My dear, forgive me. I do understand.” Her aunt wrapped her other arm about her shoulders.

“I am so glad you are here.”

“May I ask, then … whose child this is?” She nodded toward the basket.

“Dr. Taylor’s daughter.”

“And why are you … ?”

“His wife is ill. He has asked me to be the child’s nurse.”

Amelia Tilney lifted her gloved hand from Charlotte’s and laid it across her lace-covered chest.

“Can you seriously be thinking of accepting this offer?”

Charlotte nodded.

“You know what disgrace such a thing would bring to your family were it known?”

“More disgrace than I have already brought?”

“Substantially. My dear, if you must have a post, be it that of „ a governess.

“And who, pray, would hire me to teach and mold their children?”

“Many families would. Many fine families.”

“Now that I haven’t a babe with me, you mean. I shall not lie about it.”

“I understand your scruples, my dear-though some might wonder where they were in other matters.”

“Aunt-“

“Forgive me. You know I only want the best for you.”

“I do know that.”

The older woman squeezed her hand again, and the two sat quietly for a moment. Then her aunt continued, “I think your secret is still safe, my dear. Your father and sister know, of course, and the people here, but they are not likely to be in contact with the type of family with whom you would seek a situation.”

“Surely others have guessed … or at least suspect.”

“Suspicions do not allegations make. Of course there is the … father. Does he know?”

“Yes.”

“And is he trustworthy?”

“Evidently not. If you mean, will he keep my secret, then, yes, I believe he will. Now more than ever.”

`Are you absolutely certain there is nothing that can be done in that regard?”

“No, Aunt. Nothing.”

“But certainly a gentleman…. He is a gentleman?”

“Aunt, I told you. I will not reveal his identity, so please do not fish about for hints.”

“I only want … Please tell me it wasn’t that young gravedigger who ogles you so rudely.”

“Ben Higgins? He doesn’t ogle me. Heavens no, Aunt. You can rest on that score.”

“But someone, at least, of your station in life?”

“Aunt, please. I will tell you this, and then let it be the end of the matter. Our family would suffer no further from either the man’s name or connections, were they known. All right?”

“A gentleman. I knew it. Then why … ? Forgive me. We will speak of it no more.”

“Thank you.” Baby Anne began to fuss, and Charlotte drew her forth and cuddled her close. “I am sorry you disapprove of my course, although I am surprised by the vehemence of your objections.”

“My dear, wet nurses are infamously ill-bred, uneducated, immoral creatures …”

“Thank you.”

“I mean, in general, of course. You will be little higher than a scullery maid. The mistress of the house will treat you with illconcealed contempt so long as her infant needs you. If you vex her, there is nothing to stop her from putting you out on the street as soon as another nurse might be found.”

“The mistress will not be in residence, at least not for some time.”

“What? But that is worse yet. Really, my dear Charlotte, I must put my foot down here. You cannot live in a house with a man if his wife is not living there with him.”

“Servants do so all the time.”

“But Charlotte Lamb does not.”

“His father lives there as well.”

“Two men, Charlotte?”

“But his wife is in hospital. She is indisposed and may be for some months. Dr. Taylor hopes for less, but he cannot be sure.”

“Why can he not care for his wife in his own home? He is a physician, is he not?”

“Yes, but she … Well, it is not for us to question. Dr. Taylor wants only what is best for his wife, I am sure.”

“What’s best for her … or for him?”

“Aunt. I am certain he is completely selfless in this situation.”

“But what is best for you? Certainly not this. My dear, I beg you reconsider. If it becomes known, you will not be able to secure a position as governess, I am quite sure. Your father and sister would be mortified, and I confess, I should not be far behind. But think, Charlotte, even if it is not known, could you really bear another parting? And you will be parted from this child-make no mistake.”

“I know this,” Charlotte said dully.

“Can you really bear it? Would it not be better to leave this place now, to make a new start?”

“I do not know. All I know is … I need this. I feel as though I am standing on a ribbon’s edge over a black pit, and this is the only way I can keep my balance. Why should I not use this God-given sustenance to nurture this child?”

“It is not your child.”

“I am very aware of that Aunt. Painfully aware. I know this will not bring my son back, if you fear I am suffering from that misapprehension. But this little girl needs me.”

“No. She does not. Any of a dozen women in this place could care for her needs.”

“But who will care for mine?”

“God will.”

“I believe that, Aunt, I do-or I would be in that pit already. But I cannot hold God, smell or caress God. His cries do not drown out my own as hers do. She gives me a reason to get out of bed, to keep living, for today, for a little while longer.”

“There are other ways to cope.”

“How do you know? Forgive me, but you are not a mother. You have no children of your own.”

“I did.” She stared off, a sudden sheen of tears brightening her eyes. “I had a little girl many years ago, long after your uncle and I had given up hope of children. She lived but a few days.”

“Oh, Aunt. I am sorry. I had no idea.”

“She had dark curls, just like you. I suppose that is one reason I have always felt close to you.”

Charlotte gazed at her aunt’s profile, but instead saw bits of memory like pieces of colored glass, a beautiful jumble of special moments and little kindnesses collected over a lifetime. “How did you get past it?” she asked quietly.

“I am still getting past it. Every day. The pain is dimmer now, but still there. The first days, weeks, were torture-like being skinned alive. But it is not something we talked about. Infants die all the time. Women are supposed to be strong and try again as soon as possible. But there was no trying again for me. I lost my womb along with my babe.”

“Dear Aunt. How dreadful for you.”

“Yes. And for you.”

“But … you always seemed so cheerful. So happy when you visited us.”

“I was happy. In many ways. Especially when your mother was alive. Although visiting your family was a joy with a slice of pain all its own. My sister with her two beautiful daughters. And you, with your dark hair and eyes … I could never look at you without thinking of my own daughter. How old she would be, what she would be like, how similar and how different from you.”

“I never knew.”

“I did not wish to spread my sorrow.”

“Yes, but we might have shared the burden with you.”

“Yes, well. That is why I am biting my puritanical tongue and having this conversation with you. I would share this sorrow with you, if you would allow me.”

“Of course. You have done so much for me already.”

“Tosh. I have done nothing. Would that I could take you into my own home had your father not forbidden me. But do you not see how this situation in a man’s home could open your family to more talk and scandal?”

“Dr. Taylor is not much out in society. He certainly does not entertain in his home, where people might see me. But I do see your point.”

“Do you? Then you do feel some … unease about the man?”

“No. Not about Dr. Taylor. I believe his intentions are honorable. But still there is something … a discomfort at the thought of living in his house.”

“You fear he would not treat you well?”

“No. I think he would treat me very well. As he does here. But you see, Dr. Taylor is some acquainted with our family. He attended Mother during her illness.”

“Did he?”

“Yes. Dr. Webb was mother’s physician, but Dr. Taylor was one of his apprentices before he went to university.”

“So he is a young man, then?”

“I suppose he is but five or six years older than myself.”

“All the more reason.”

“Dr. Taylor holds nothing but respect for me-even after everything he has learned about me. Do not look at me so. I mean only that he treats me like a gentleman’s daughter-a lady-even after I have proven otherwise. Still, I see the wisdom in what you say…. Do you think your old aunt would still welcome me if I brought a baby not my own?”

“Oh yes, I am sure of it! She wrote back directly to assure me of her pleasure in having you and the babe come, and I do not think this will sway her, once I explain … I know you will not wish to lie to her. Nor do I, but perhaps the villagers need not be told that the babe is not your own.”

“Better for them to think me an unmarried mother than a wet nurse?”

“Yes. I am afraid so. Others might insist you pass yourself off as a recent widow, but I will not suggest such a ruse. We shall hope the distance from Doddington and my aunt’s solitary life will provide all the shield you require. I shall write to her directly and apprise her of the situation.”

“Thank you.”

“Still, I must beseech you one last time. Let me call for the matron. She will find another fine woman to suckle this child, and I shall take you to Crawley in my own carriage.”

“Aunt, I appreciate your concern. And I am sorry to disappoint you. But I could no more give up this child than my own, had Ito do it over again.”

“But you did not give him up-the good Lord took that situation out of your hands. He has something else in store for your future. He knows what is best.”

“I do feel Him, somehow. A bit of comfort amid this … broken glass slicing at my heart. I am clinging to the hope that He is in this. That He will redeem this, me, my son.”

“Of course He will. Your son is with his loving father right now.

“Yes.” Charlotte nodded. “Yes, he is.”

After Aunt Tilney left, Charlotte found Dr. Taylor in the foundling ward. Together they walked to the far end of the entry hall-out of earshot of the other nurses.

Charlotte began quietly, “It would not be appropriate for me to live in your house without your wife present.”

Dr. Taylor lowered his head. “Of course you are right. I had not considered that. My father does live with us, but still … I understand.” He nodded, resigned.

“I could take Anne with me to Crawley,” Charlotte continued, knowing she sounded too eager, “and nurse her there for as long as you need. My aunt assures me we would both be welcome.”

Daniel’s face brightened. “You know, it was very common until recent times for infants to be sent to the country for a year or so. It was believed the fresh air away from London would benefit the children, and some families still hold to this practice. Would you really be willing to take her with you? To care for her?”

Charlotte nodded. “Unless, of course, you cannot bear to be apart from her….”

“Crawley is not so far off, you know,” he said. “If I might visit Anne from time to time, I should think it an excellent plan. I wonder I did not think of it.” He tapped his thumb against his lip as he thought. “I would ask that you postpone departure for a fortnight. Give both you and Anne time to gain strength for the journey. The roads can be treacherous at times.”