Page 57 of Lady of Milkweed Manor

“Well, I don’t like the sound of that. That’s beneath you, Miss Lamb.”

“No it isn’t.” Not anymore .

“What I mean to say, is that a woman of your character and education could do so much more, could be anything she wanted.”

“But you need a nursemaid.”

“Anne needs a nursemaid. I ...”

“What?”

“For Anne’s sake, I wish you would stay on as nursemaid, governess, what have you. But quite frankly, I don’t.”

“You don’t want me to be Anne’s nurse.”

“No.”

Charlotte felt as though she’d been slapped and drenched with icy water at the same time. She’d thought he admired her way with his daughter—that he admired her in general.

“I shall leave immediately.”

“No!” he all but shouted.

She looked at him, stunned by his uncharacteristic outburst.

He sighed and said more gently, “Forgive me. I know I am a broken shell of a man with little to offer you. But still, I ask you.”

“Ask me what?”

“To stay.”

“As what?”

“Why must we define it? Can you not give me more time?”

“I’m afraid I do not understand, sir. I am an unmarried woman.

I cannot stay under your roof unless I am employed by you in a legitimate capacity. Tell me you are not asking me to be your ... to be your ...”

“To be my what?” he said defensively.

“Do not make me say it.”

“Say what?” He looked nearly angry now. “What is it that is so odious to you?”

“Dr. Taylor!”

“No, tell me. Be my what?”

She frowned, looked about her, then whispered tersely, “Mistress.”

The man looked stricken. “Oh, Miss Lamb. Forgive me. No wonder you looked so ill. Certainly you know by now how highly I think of you. I would never make such a proposition to anyone, least of all to you.”

She knew he meant it as a compliment; still, it hurt her feminine pride. She was not the sort of woman he would want for himself.

At least, not anymore.

“Your friend Kendall had no such scruples, so I feared ...” She let the mortifying words drift away.

“Yes, I am sorry for that. And I see why you might think—” He rose to his feet. “Miss Lamb, Charlotte, forgive me. I am handling this very poorly.”

“No need to apologize. You are distraught. You still mourn your wife, and you have a young daughter to raise alone.”

“Yes. But none of that changes the fact that I want you to stay.

Anne and I would be adrift without you.”

“As ...?”

He sighed. “I suppose I prefer the term nursery-governess.

For now.”

Though she dreaded the possible repercussions, Charlotte decided she was obligated to write to apprise her cousin Katherine of her change in situation.

She did not like the thought of placing Mrs. Dunweedy in an awkward predicament should Katherine write or call there.

So she wrote a rather brief note to let her cousin know that she had taken a position as governess and was no longer residing in Crawley.

She did not inform Katherine that she was in the employ of Daniel Taylor, for several reasons.

She had seen the speculative gleam in Katherine’s eyes when she had seen him arrive at her great-aunt’s cottage.

Though she might have imagined that. Worse, she had foolishly passed off Anne as her own daughter.

If Katherine were to inquire—or heaven forbid, take it upon herself to call upon the Taylor home—how would she explain that Anne was, after all, Dr. Taylor’s daughter and not her own?

Katherine’s shock and censure would be too awful to imagine.

So Charlotte had omitted the name of her employer and his address on the first letter, only to be mortified when Daniel Taylor delivered a return letter from Katherine the following week.

“Lady Katherine asked me to give this to you when I saw you next,” he said. “She came by the Manor today.”

“She did?”

“Yes, she seemed certain I would know how to find you.”

“Did you tell her ...?”

“I told her nothing. Knowing my shortcomings in the tact and discretion department, I thought it best.”

“But she must know something, to ask you to deliver this to me.”

“True. She did not seem surprised when I agreed to the task. I suppose she remembers that I had delivered that ... other ... parcel for her when last I was in Crawley.”

Charlotte knew he was referring to the money he had long ago delivered to her on Katherine’s behalf—most of which Charlotte had given to Margaret Dunweedy to cover her living expenses.

“She did mention she had stopped by the Manor on two other occasions with the intention of asking me to get some message to you, only to be told the first time that I was away on holiday, and on the second, that I had taken leave and no one knew when I would return. Must have been while we were on the coast.”

She knew he did not like to recall that grim time. None of them did. Quietly, she thanked him for the letter and slipped up to her room before opening it. She held her breath as she read Katherine’s curt reply.

... I am trusting Dr. Taylor, who seems to know your whereabouts better than anyone, to get this to you.

Goodness, Charlotte, why on earth did you not write to me sooner?

I had grown concerned. I called round at Margaret Dunweedy’s on Whitsunday, but she could not—or would not—tell me where you had gone.

She said something about you being off on holiday, but of course, given your situation, I did not believe it.

Katherine went on to write several blunt questions.

Governess? Could be worse, I suppose. In whose employ are you? Do I know the family? I certainly hope they allow Anne to stay with you. Where in the world am I to write you should the need arise? Do not be foolish, Charlotte. Send me your directions by return post.

Did Katherine guess she had been with Dr. Taylor all along?

Was that why she was so certain he could contact her?

But then, why hadn’t she acquired Dr. Taylor’s home address—it would certainly not be difficult to discover, since he had a fairly well-known medical practice.

In any case, Charlotte knew she could not put her cousin off any longer.

And so, with no small trepidation, Charlotte wrote back:

I am in the employ of Dr. Daniel Taylor, with whom you are some acquainted.

I am content in my post, and the Taylors are kind and generous employers, though Dr. Taylor is away a great deal with his work as a physician.

And, yes, Anne is here and enjoying excellent health.

I do hope the same is true for your family. .. .

After this, Charlotte and her cousin Katherine began exchanging brief, occasional letters.

Charlotte found it a mixed blessing of pleasure and deprivation to read Katherine’s chatty reports of Edmund’s growth and antics and “how dear Charles dotes on the boy.” Still, Katherine had not suggested paying a call, and Charlotte had not offered.