Page 33 of Lady of Milkweed Manor

“Have you considered for a moment, my dear, that if Charlotte were in such a place, she might not like the fact to be discovered?”

“Bah. I am sure it is only that preening vicar-father of hers that sent her into exile. Charlotte has always been very fond of me. I am sure she would be happy to see me, once she knows where my sympathies lie.”

“I am sorry, Mrs. Harris.” The matron, a Mrs. Moorling, was either ignorant or refused to address her properly. “But I cannot divulge the name of any of our girls—neither current nor past residents. Surely you understand.”

“Normally, yes. But I assure you this instance is different. I only want to help my cousin.”

“Very noble, I’m sure.”

Katherine sighed. “Very well, I shall leave my card.” Katherine handed one across the desk. “Perhaps you might deliver it to her and ask her to contact me, if that would be more suitable.”

“I told you, there is nothing I can do.” Mrs. Moorling rose. “I trust Sally Mitchell has proven herself a suitable nurse?”

Katherine had little choice but to rise as well. “Yes. Quite suitable, thank you.”

Unaccustomed as she was to being refused anything, Lady Katherine’s departing smile was quite false.

As she left Mrs. Moorling’s office, she saw a thin, plain, officious woman with a sheaf of papers in hand.

Katherine smiled at her. “You look a very knowledgeable, helpful sort.”

“I do?” The plain woman curtsied. “Thank you, mum.”

“I would be ever so obliged if you could help me. I am looking for my dearest cousin, sent here by her tyrant of a father. Poor dear thinks she hasn’t a friend in the world, when here I am ready to offer hearth and home.”

“’Tis good of you.”

“So. If you could just direct me to Charlotte’s room ...” She took a tentative step toward the stairs.

“Charlotte?” the young woman asked.

“Yes, Miss Charlotte Lamb.” Katherine paused on the first step.

“Oh ... I’m afraid we haven’t anyone by that name. We did have a Charlotte not so long ago by another surname. But I’m afraid she’s left and I know not where. Poor soul.”

Katherine arched a brow.

“Lost her wee babe, she did.”

“How dreadful.”

“Yes, mum. A finer young woman I’ve never known.”

“But not ... a Miss Lamb?”

“No. I’m afraid not.”

Discouraged, Katherine was just leaving the manor when she heard a voice call out a familiar name. “Afternoon, Taylor. Any new patients I should know of?”

Katherine whirled around. Two men stood talking in low tones on the other side of the hall.

Both looked up as she approached, her shoes clicking on the marble floor.

One was handsome—dark hair brushed back from his forehead with a touch of silver in his sideburns.

The other man was taller, but thin and pale.

“Dr. Taylor?” she asked.

The thin one inclined his chin and answered, “Yes?”

She introduced herself. “Lady Katherine Harris.”

Before Taylor could respond, the handsome man bowed. “Lady Katherine ... a pleasure. Allow me to introduce myself. Jeffrey Preston, esteemed physician. May I be of service?”

“Actually I’d like to speak to Dr. Taylor.” She turned to him.

“That is, if you have a moment?”

“Of course. Excuse us, Preston.”

Dr. Preston bowed curtly before turning on his heel and stalking away.

“You must forgive me,” Katherine began once they were alone.

“I am told you were on hand the night my son was born, but I am afraid I don’t remember meeting you ... or little else for that matter. I was not myself that night.”

“Perfectly understandable. It is a pleasure to see you looking so well.”

“Thank you.”

“And how does young Edmund fare?”

“Very well.” She beamed. “I am surprised you remember my little son’s name.” Then her pleasure transformed into a question.

“But how do you know his name, I wonder? We had not yet decided what to call him.”

“Oh. I don’t know. Someone told me. Your husband, perhaps.

I’ve seen him by chance a time or two since.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Have you really?”

“Only in passing.”

She looked at him closely, opened her mouth as if to say more, then closed it again. She smiled. “I have not thanked you for everything you did for my son that night.”

“You needn’t thank me.”

“Of course I do. You saved his life.”

“Well ...” Dr. Taylor looked down at the floor, clearly uncomfortable.

“Let me tell you why I’m here,” she began. She told him of her quest and the man’s discomfiture only seemed to increase.

“I am afraid I cannot help you. The Manor Home has strict policies—”

“Yes, yes, your Mrs. Moorling has explained all that already. But I thought, perhaps since you are some acquainted with my family ...”

“I’m sorry.”

She pulled a small paper-wrapped bundle from her reticule. “I have funds here I was hoping would help my cousin. Shall I be forced to roam the corridors, calling her name?”

“No. That will not be necessary. You have my word that Char ... that no one by that name is in residence.”

“But she was here.”

“I cannot say.”

Katherine sighed in frustration, then forced a smile. “Very well.”

She returned the bundle to her bag and turned to leave.

Dr. Taylor called after her. “If I were to ...”

Katherine turned around.

“... to somehow come into contact with this person. Can you tell me, what exactly is the money for? Is it ... in payment for ... something?”

“Payment? Goodness, it isn’t payment for anything. I simply want to help her and never imagined I would have so much trouble doing so.”

Dr. Taylor again studied the floor. Katherine closed the distance between them.

“It is clear you know more than you let on. I know—I will give you a ... donation. If you can get it to Charlotte, wonderful. If you cannot, use it for the worthiest cause ... or woman ... you know. Surely you cannot reject such an offer.”

“It is indeed generous and there are many needs.”

She pressed the money into his hand.

“I trust you to help her, if you can.”