Page 28 of Lady of Milkweed Manor

“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 I to 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.”

“Very well.”

“You are quite certain you are willing?”

“Yes. I will care for her as if she were my own. Until your wife is recovered, of course.”

“You do not know what this means to me, Miss Lamb. You will be recompensed well and have my eternal gratitude.”

Charlotte smiled weakly. Now if only I shall be able to bear another parting. ...