Page 31 of Her Noble Groom

Chapter twenty-five

“ H ow do Thomasse and Joanna fare?” Philippe asked as James hoisted him into the saddle.

“I trust they are recovering,” James replied.

He slapped the gelding on the haunch. Philippe wobbled as the horse moved forward and out of the stable.

James grabbed a pitchfork from the back corner and occupied himself loading the mangers with hay—any task to keep his mind off what was happening at the cottage.

It had been five long days since Joanna entered the world, and the only word of their welfare had come from a maidservant three days previous.

How strange—and painful—not to know how his wife and daughter fared.

But after Thomasse demanded he leave and not return, he had not expected to be told aught of them.

He took comfort that no one had come bearing bad tidings.

Rushes crackled. James recognized the maidservant who had attended Joanna’s birth.

“Madame de Beauvoir requests you come to the cottage forthwith,” she said.

His chest tightened. The news could not be good, or Madame would not have sent for him.

His feet felt heavy as bricks as he hurried along the path to the cottage. At the crest of the hillock, he paused. Everything looked peaceful. Too peaceful. He continued down the path and tapped on the door.

Madame opened it and waved him inside. “Many thanks for coming with such haste. ”

Thomasse slept peacefully on a mat beside the fire. The maidservant sat in a chair in the back corner holding the swaddled Joanna. Nothing appeared to be amiss.

“How do they fare?”

“Both are on the mend, but not yet out of danger.” Madame gestured for James to sit with her at the table. “Demoiselle Penna requires her maidservant, and I must be about my other patients.”

James’s mind eased. “So Thomasse is strong enough to care for herself and the babe?”

“Unfortunately, no,” she replied. “As husband and father, I fear the task of caring for them must fall on you.”

“After her declaration, do you think it wise?”

Madame placed a hand over his. “Women in travail say many things they do not mean.”

James shook his head, unconvinced but resigned. “What must I do?”

She pointed to the kettle hanging over the fire. “I have prepared a large pot of broth. Feed it to Thomasse until she is able for solid food. Joanna grows stronger, and must be fed as well. The maidservant will instruct you.”

Rising, she collected her satchel and headed toward the door. “If either Thomasse or Joanna takes a turn for the worse, fetch me.”

When Madame was gone, the maidservant carefully laid the babe in the cradle beside the chair.

James approached, and the maidservant placed a finger to her lips.

He leaned over the cradle, his heart melting at the sight of his sleeping daughter.

Her pale lashes were barely visible against her milky skin and her little pink mouth made sucking noises as if she were still feeding.

The maidservant showed him how to dip the cloth into the milk and twist it to fit into the babe’s mouth, not unlike how he had fed many a newborn foal.

“I am much obliged,” James said when the maidservant departed.

The next several days passed quickly, with so many duties of which James was not accustomed—feeding Joanna, rocking her when she cried, and changing her soiled swaddling bands.

Fortunately, she slept a lot, giving him time to gather wood, fetch water from the nearby stream, and wash the soiled bands.

When Thomasse awoke, he held her head while she sipped the broth Madame had prepared. In her weakened state, her words of gratitude gave him hope that Madame and William had been right—that she regretted her harsh words.

Under his care, mother and daughter gained strength.

Within a sennight, Thomasse was able to sit in a chair and hold her child, and take on more responsibilities, allowing James to resume his duties in the stable.

Returning home at night, it warmed his heart to watch Thomasse coo and kiss Joanna’s fuzzy head.

Contentment permeated the cottage, and hope sprang anew that they could make this place a home—become a real family.

I t was a fortnight after Joanna’s birth, when de Carteret appeared in the stable demanding all the horses be saddled up. A matter of utmost gravity required his presence across the isle. James was to accompany him and the family.

James hastened to the cottage. “I came by to let you know that I will be gone a few days.”

“Where are you going?” Thomasse asked.

“To Rozel Manor,” James replied. “The Seigneur of Rozel and his friend, the Reverend of St. Martin’s Church, have been arrested and charged with conspiracy against the French garrison. The Lady of Rozel has requested Seigneur de Carteret’s help.”

James bent and kissed Thomasse’s cheek and that of the babe. “I have asked a servant to check in on you.”

With that, he quit the cottage, heart heavy. In her condition, it would not be easy for Thomasse to manage everything on her own.