Lady of Milkweed Manor (41 page)

From Sally’s few hastily written lines, Dr. Taylor ascertained that he had located her the first place he tried-with the Harrises in Doddington. Mrs. Mead, it seemed, had needed a few more days to wean her own child and had arrived at Fawnwell the same day as Dr. Taylor’s messenger. Sally had secured passage on the next morning’s coach.

Now that it was settled, Charlotte felt the block of sadness begin to break up and sift out through all the broken places in her heart, replaced with a numb pragmatism. There was nothing she could do about it now. It was the right thing, whether it felt like it or not.

That afternoon, Charlotte took a basket of clean laundry to hang on the line outside. She had offered to help Marie, reasoning that keeping busy might take her mind off her impending departure. But as she began hanging little nappies and sweet little bed gowns, she realized she ought to have volunteered for some different task.

Suddenly Thomas was there beside her, bending low and coming up with a pair of knitted socks barely large enough to cover his thumbs. She was immediately relieved the basket held none of her own undergarments.

Charlotte watched as he hung the tiny socks in mock concentration. “Hello, Thomas. Here to help Mr. Beebe again?”

“Why-are these his?”

She shook her head, amused.

“Actually, Miss Charlotte, I am here to ask you to take supper with us at the week end. Mother wants to meet you.”

“She does?”

“Well, Lizzy has been going on about you. And, I confess, I have as well.”

She smiled quickly, then bit her lip. “Thank you, but I am afraid I will be gone by then.”

“Gone?”

“Yes. I am leaving my post here. There’s to be a new nurse. In fact, she arrives today.”

“But-” He stared down at her in dismay. “This is a blow. Is … is this what you want, Miss Charlotte, or … ?”

Mrs. Taylor appeared on the lawn, looking from Thomas to Charlotte and back again. “Good day, Mr. Cox. You have heard the news-Miss Lamb is leaving us?”

“I have just.”

“But you will still come to visit us, will you not?”

“I, -,

“Of course you must. Now, I shall leave you to your farewells.” She returned to the cottage, humming a seaman’s tune.

Thomas looked back at Charlotte, his eyes sparking with uncharacteristic emotion. Was it anger?

Charlotte answered his question as though they had not been interrupted. “I am learning, Thomas, that what I want is not always the wisest course.”

“Miss Charlotte …”

She forced a bright smile. “Actually, it is quite a happy turn of events, for the new nurse is a friend of mine. I know you will like her. She was raised on a farm and will so enjoy all the things Lizzy enjoys. I am certain you will all get on famously.”

Thomas had been looking down at the ground while she spoke but now glanced up at her earnestly. “You cannot be so easily replaced, Miss Charlotte.”

Again she bit her lip. “Thank you. You are most kind.”

“Might I at least accompany you into the village to meet the coach?”

She hesitated. “I should not like to trouble you-haven’t you work waiting?”

“The work will always be here, Miss Charlotte. You will not.”

Mrs. Beebe insisted they take the gig to the inn. Leaving Anne with Marie, Charlotte and Thomas rode into Old Shoreham, halting only long enough to pay the shilling-per-horse toll to the boy at the bridge. When they arrived, Thomas helped her down in front of the Red Lion.

“I’ll tie up Old Ned. You go on and greet your friend. I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.”

When the coach arrived, Charlotte stood back while the dust and horses settled and the innkeeper ran out to meet prospective guests. When she saw Sally’s fair head duck low to descend the carriage on the coachman’s hand, she stepped forward to meet her.

“Miss Charlotte!” Sally cried as soon as she saw her, but she did not offer her usual toothy grin. Instead her long face looked forlorn and she clearly had difficulty meeting Charlotte’s gaze. “Please believe me, Miss Charlotte. I didn’t do it-I swear I didn’t. I would never even have thought of it if I’d known it might harm him.”

“I believe you, Sally.”

“Oh, thank you, Miss Charlotte. God bless you.” The two women embraced. Then Sally stood back, her hands on Charlotte’s shoulders, regarding her. “Now, tell me you haven’t gone and gotten yourself sacked too.”

“Not exactly. But it is time for me to leave.”

“A fussy one is she?”

“No. Anne’s an angel.”

Sally stuck her elbow into Charlotte’s side. “I meant the missus.” Sally’s smile was back, her front teeth protruding over her bottom lip.

“Let us just say it might be best if she did not know you and I are so fond of one another.”

Sally nodded her understanding.

“I’ve told Mrs. Taylor I knew of you at the Manor and that she would be very pleased with you.”

Thomas appeared, already bending low to pick up Sally’s two carpetbags before standing to his full height beside her. Sally’s gaze followed his upward movement with a slight opening of her mouth.

“Sally, this is my friend Thomas Cox. Thomas, this is Miss Sally Mitchell.”

Thomas gave an awkward bow, then looked at the newcomer. “A pleasure it is to meet you, Miss Sally.”

Charlotte did not miss the admiration in his expression.

Sally shook her head in wonder. “I’ll be bobbed, but you’re tall,” she said, then giggled, teeth splayed as she did so.

Thomas smiled in return. “Yes, we have that in common.” He looked back at Charlotte beside him. “As well as a dear friend.”

Charlotte pretended not to notice his blush nor the question in Sally’s eyes as she looked at them both.

When they arrived back at Lloyd Lodge, Mrs. Taylor welcomed Sally warmly. As Charlotte had predicted, the mistress seemed very pleased with her replacement. There was something about the large, simple woman that seemed to put people, perhaps especially jealous wives, at ease.

Charlotte helped Sally carry her carpetbags up to the room Charlotte had used. She moved her own packed bags off the dressing table to make room for Sally’s things.

“You’re not leaving already, Charlotte, surely?”

“Not today. Dr. Taylor said I might stay as long as I like.”

“Stay, then. I don’t mind sharing.”

“I shall stay just long enough to see you settled with the Beebes and the Taylors, and with little Anne, of course.”

“Won’t it be difficult for you, Charlotte?”

Charlotte chose to ignore the deeper implications of the question. “You have just arrived. Of course I want to spend a day or two with you before I go.”

“Will you see Thomas again … after you leave, I mean.”

“I shouldn’t think so. Why?”

“You don’t, that is, the two of you are not … ?”

“No, Sally, we are not.”

“You don’t … love him, then?”

Charlotte took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She heard Anne, who had been napping, gurgling happily to herself in the next room.

“She’s awake,” Charlotte said. “Please excuse me.” She walked to the nursery and picked up Anne.

Sally followed her. “It’s all right if you do. I just want to know how things are between you.”

Charlotte lifted Anne into her arms. “There is someone here for you to meet, Miss Anne.”

“Isn’t she a gorgeous thing. And so much grown since I seen her last.”

“Yes.” Charlotte stroked Anne’s cheek. Then she sighed and placed Anne into Sally’s arms. “I will miss Thomas and he will miss me, but that is the end of it.”

“But I saw the way he looked at you.”

Charlotte smiled gently at her friend. “And I saw the way he looked at you. Something tells me he will not be missing me for long.”

Unlike Mrs. Taylor, young Anne was slower to hand over her loyalties. She wouldn’t nurse from Sally that first night and cried and reached for Charlotte. Charlotte sat in the rocking chair with her, nursing her and soothing her-and herself. She knew she ought to refuse and let off nursing all at once, but she felt unable to do so, unable to withstand Anne’s pitiful tears.

Finally, when Anne awoke at dawn, crying to be fed, Charlotte laid her in bed at Sally’s side. While nurse and child were both only half awake, hunger won over and Anne nursed. Sally’s sleepy eyes filled with tears as she looked at Charlotte in silent understanding.

Richard Kendall stood before the writing desk in the study that served as Daniel’s office.

“Have you no objections, then, were I to offer her some … situation?”

Daniel stared at the man, wanting very much to throttle him. Instead he said in controlled tones, “You will offend her.”

“Quite possibly. Beyond that risk, have you no objections?” When Daniel made no answer, Richard continued. “You said yourself she has few options. That the man who should have made some recompense, should be providing for her, has failed to do so. You are not in a position to do so, but I am.”

“Yet you do not offer marriage.”

Kendall frowned and sighed. “No. I am afraid not. Not at this point. We are not so well acquainted.”

“But acquainted enough to ask her to become your mistress?”

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “The particulars are yet to be agreed upon, of course, and will be strictly between Miss Lamb and myself. You can be assured of my discretion.”

“She will refuse you.”

“I am aware of that possibility.”

“I would ask that you dispense with this line of thinking altogether. But I have no authority to stop you.”

“No, being merely her former employer …” He nodded thoughtfully. “Though I am beginning to understand why you chose not to tell Mrs. Taylor about your past regard for Miss Lamb.”

Richard Kendall found Charlotte Lamb strolling along the path parallel to the sea, swinging a stick of driftwood in her hand. He fell into step beside her.

“Where will you go now, Miss Lamb?”

“To Crawley. I have a great-aunt there.”

He nodded. “A pleasant prospect, then?”

She shrugged. “Pleasant enough.”

She seemed pensive, her eyes far away on the grey water, the distant gulls and beyond. “If I could go anywhere I liked, I suppose I would return to Doddington. Though I am no longer welcome in my own home. Still, I would steal back to that dear place if I could. I was just imagining that very thing: strolling through the village and up the lane, past the churchyard and into my mother’s garden.”

“Your family would not approve of such a visit?”

She shook her head. “My father would not likely see me, spending so much time in his library as he does. Beatrice, my sister, is so often at her pianoforte, or lost in the pages of a book, that the world outside the vicarage windows holds little appeal and she would not likely see me either.”

“What would you do there?”

“I would walk along the garden paths, pausing at every flower bed and ornamental tree, taking in which have flourished, which are languishing, and which have died. I should no doubt cry foolish tears over their loss. And feel just the slightest satisfaction that my absence has left some small mark on the place. Then, when no one was about I would find dear Buxley, our gardener, and see if he could, with every kindness and attention, save those suffering from neglect. And perhaps even coax the lost to return „ once again.

She paused to toss the stick of driftwood into the sea. “But, as that is not a real possibility, I suppose my second choice would be to return to the home of my aunt and uncle in Hertfordshire. I have spent many happy hours in their company and would find much solace in doing so again. Of course, I doubt my uncle would see fit to have me out in society, but even confined to their home, I believe I should be happy. My aunt has the most comforting way about her. Everyone who meets her says so.”

Charlotte stopped and turned toward him, hand over her mouth. “Do forgive me! I have used a week’s worth of words on your „ poor ears.

He grinned. “Think nothing of it.”

“I suppose it’s due to spending so little time in adult company.

“I am happy to oblige.” They continued walking. “So why not away to Hertfordshire, then?”

She sighed. “My father has forbidden my aunt and uncle to shelter me. So”-she straightened her shoulders-“I shall return to Crawley. I am sure I shall enjoy it.”

“You did enjoy your time here before recent conflicts, that is?”

“Yes indeed. I am sorry to leave such a beautiful place and such fine company.”

“I am happy to hear you say so. I had thought of a possible solution to your dilemma, if I may be so bold as to make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“I had thought that I might offer another alternative.”

“Yes?” She turned to look at him and they stopped walking.

“Yes. That is … Please forgive my presumption. I realize we are not so well acquainted, but it did occur to me that you and I enjoy one another’s company.”

“Yes,” she agreed, but her brow began to wrinkle in growing confusion.

“As a physician, I have some means-not an overly grand income but sufficient, I believe, to offer you a comfortable living here.”