Page 46 of Lady of Milkweed Manor
“Better let the nurse do that. It’s what she’s paid for, isn’t it?” He began to walk toward the cottage, smiling at her over his shoulder.
“I am the nurse, Dr. Kendall.”
“What?” He paused, turning back to face her.
“I am Anne’s nurse. It is why I am here.”
“I don’t ...”
“Your friend Dr. Taylor was a great help to me when my own child ... was lost to me. And since Mrs. Taylor ... needed someone, well, here I am.”
“I see.”
“I am sorry for the deception the other day.”
“No need to apologize.” He nodded thoughtfully, then cleared his throat. “Well. I best be getting in.”
Yes, yes, hurry away. “Please do.”
Daniel led Kendall into the parlor, where Lizette waited.
“My dear, allow me to present my old friend Richard Kendall. Kendall, this is my wife. Madame Lizette Taylor.”
Kendall’s eyes widened at the sight of Lizette, resplendent in her ivory gown, her hair piled high on her head, her black eyes shining. It was a reaction Daniel was used to, even enjoyed. He still sometimes found it difficult to believe he had such a lovely wife.
“ Enchantée ,” Lizette said, smiling coyly before dipping her head.
“I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Taylor.” Kendall bowed. “You are even more beautiful than your husband described.”
“You are very kind, Dr. Kendall. Now, please come and sit down. Dinner will soon be served.”
Both men instinctively offered their arms. She laughed, her smile brilliant, and she crooked her arm first through Kendall’s, then Daniel’s. The three walked slowly together to the dining room, arm in arm.
After dinner, the two men sipped their port in Daniel’s study.
“Why did you not tell me?” Kendall asked.
“Hmm?”
“About Miss Lamb. Your nurse ?”
“Oh. How did you ...?”
“She told me herself. Outside, before I came in.”
“Well, I saw no need to humiliate her—you are a stranger to her. I was not thinking ahead.”
“You might have sent a note and saved us both the embarrassment.”
“I am sorry. She berated me as well for not telling you. I only meant to spare her feelings.”
Kendall looked at him closely. “Were you and she ...?”
“What?”
“She mentioned a child.”
“Heavens no. I had not seen her in several years when I came upon her in hospital, quite far along in her lying-in.”
“I must say I find this situation highly unusual.”
Daniel shrugged. “My daughter needed a nurse. Miss Lamb needed a post.”
“Does Mrs. Taylor know?”
“She knows I am acquainted with Miss Lamb and her family from my time in Kent.”
“But not how you felt about her?”
“I saw no need. It’s years ago now.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Kendall, I am devoted to my wife.”
“Of course you are. I did not mean to imply anything untoward. It is the irony of this situation—do you not recognize it? You have Charlotte Lamb in your service, living under your roof, nursing your child, looking as lovely as ever I imagined from your descriptions—”
“And what is your point?” Daniel asked in growing irritation.
“I am only pondering. I take it the bloke responsible has offered no marriage, no arrangement?”
“No. He is married.” Daniel took a sip. “As am I.”
“Yes, yes. And Mrs. Taylor is very beautiful, I grant you.”
Kendall shook his head. “Here I am a year your elder with no woman in my life and you have two.”
“I do not have two women!” Daniel heard the anger mounting in his own voice.
“Look, I know you to be a man of honor and all that. Always have been. But you know, Daniel, these things are done. It is nearly respectable these days to support a beautiful lady in such a situation. Though I suppose the word lady must now be applied rather loosely.”
“Richard. You know not of what you speak. I have been and shall remain faithful to Lizette. I took vows. Sacred vows. And, well even if I had not. I am devoted to my wife!”
“Yes, so you have said.”
Daniel turned away, on the verge of ordering this man from the house. He forced himself to relax his fisted hands flat against his trouser legs and take several deep breaths.
“Forgive me,” Kendall said. “I have clearly overstepped and misspoken. You are not the only one who disgraces himself socially, you see.” Kendall sighed. “I shall see myself out. Do thank Mrs. Taylor again for the excellent meal.”
Daniel nodded stiffly without turning.
Later, when they were preparing to retire, Lizette smiled at herself in the dressing mirror as she let down her hair.
“Your friend could barely keep his eyes from me all evening.”
“I noticed.”
She glanced at him. “You do not seem afflicted with such difficulties.”
“My dear. You know I consider you absolutely beautiful.”
“So you say.”
“You do not believe me?”
“You do not prove your words. I do not feel that you find me desirable or irresistible. Nor understand why you should want to resist.”
“It is only out of consideration for your ... health.”
“Unless,” she went on as if she had not heard, “some other woman has captured your attention?”
“Of course not, Lizette. You know better. You have been my only lover.”
She stepped close to him. “But we do not live as lovers. I need to feel that you desire me. I need to feel you ...”
She pressed herself against him, her breath hot on his neck, and he found he could resist no longer.
Daniel sat in the study in the cottage, refolded the letter, and laid it on the desk. He removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes.
Replacing them again, he saw Charlotte walking past his door.
“Miss Lamb? Might I have a word?”
“Of course.” She stepped into the study and stood before his desk. “What is it?”
“I’ve had a letter from Charles Harris.”
“Yes?” Worry stretched itself across her features.
“Your ... the family is all well. He wrote to tell us that he’s had to let Sally Mitchell go.”
“Go? Why?”
“It seems she was given laudanum by a neighboring nurse—meant to drug the child—”
“Dear God, no ...”
“Put yourself at ease. Edmund is fine. There is every indication that she did not give him any, but it appears the neighboring nurse administered a fatal dose to the infant in her care.”
“Merciful heavens.”
“He says, given that I personally recommended Sally, and considering the continuing health of his child, he is prepared to believe her innocent of all but considering the act. But that is enough that his wife cannot bear the thought of keeping the child in Sally’s care.
She has hired a—” he briefly consulted the letter again—“a Mrs. Mead from the village to replace her.”
“I know her. A kind, honest woman from what I remember. But still, poor Sally—what must she have been thinking?”
“That is at least one purpose for Harris’s letter.
To alert me to the fact that the nurses coming from the Manor may be under the misapprehension that the drug is suitable for such purposes.
It is clear that I have some reeducating to do when I return.
I can rest, at least, in the knowledge that the neighboring nurse was not a resident of our institution. ”
“What will become of Sally?”
“They are not pursuing legal redress. Though I’m afraid the other nurse will not be as fortunate. I suppose Sally will be free to return to her own home, her own child.”
“But how will she support herself and her son?”
He sighed. “I do not know. That continues to be a problem for many.”