Lady of Milkweed Manor (24 page)

“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….

The Hospital Foundling came out of they Brains
To encourage the Progress of vulgar Amours,
The breeding of Rogues and the increasing of Whores,
While the Children of honest good Husbands and Wives
Stand expos’d to Oppression and Want all their lives.

-PORCUPINUS PELAGIOUS, THE SCANDALIZADE, 1750

CHAPTER 17

-iss Lamb.” Dr. Taylor stopped her in the corridor the fol_ __ lowing week. “May I ask how Anne is faring?”

“Fine. I have just come from her. She is sated and sleeping peacefully.”

“I am glad of it.” He hesitated. “I don’t suppose …”

“What is it?”

“It’s just that I am in a bit of a bind. I need to make a brief call on a patient, one who is quite adamant about needing a female chaperone, and neither Gibbs nor Mrs. Krebs can get away at present. I have just come from Mrs. Moorling’s office, though it would have been quite presumptuous to ask her such a thing, but she is out for the evening.”

“You need me to accompany you?”

“I know it is difficult for you to get away ..”

`Anne will most likely sleep for another two or three hours. I am sure Mae would be happy to listen and tend her should she awaken. How long would we be?”

“Only an hour or so. But I don’t want to impose on you. And while we are both aware of how insensitive I can be on points of propriety, I realize it would not be proper to ask you to ride alone with me in the carriage.”

“Is it urgent?”

“Not really. Some stitches I need to attend to, make sure no infection sets in. I promised I would be by tonight and the night is nearly gone. It really should not wait until tomorrow. But perhaps she will forgive me arriving on my own this once. When I explain.”

“She lives alone, then?”

“Well, not alone exactly. She has three children in her care. Two are her own, one she wet-nurses for hire.”

“I see.”

“Well, I must away. Pardon me for speaking before I thought through the notion.”

He bowed and walked past her, setting his hat upon his head and lacing his arms through the sleeves of his coat.

Charlotte turned and watched him go.

“Might I have a moment to collect my wrap and speak to Mae?” she called after him.

He turned and looked at her, his face weary. “Of course. If you are certain you do not mind.”

She shrugged and smiled blithely. “I shall wear my most concealing bonnet.”

And she did.

They rode through the cobbled streets of London in relative silence.

“Do you often make calls at this late hour?” Charlotte asked lightly. She was unprepared for the thick silence which answered her question. She glanced over and saw Dr. Taylor’s eyes narrow. He took a corner rather more sharply than needed and urged the horse forward with a click of his tongue.

“No,” he answered dully.

She nodded but kept her eyes forward. His tone invited no further inquiry. She did wonder, though, what was special about this particular patient to bring him out for a call this late in the evening-and having to bring someone with him too. The patient was a wet nurse, was she not? No genteel nor wealthy lady that she should have such influence over a physician.

When they halted in front of a worn three-story tenement and Dr. Taylor did not even offer his hand in helping her descend, Charlotte knew his mind was preoccupied and the task ahead an unpleasant one. She lifted her skirts a bit more than she would have liked, but managed to step down to the filthy street without mishap.

“Dr. Taylor!” She was obliged to call, for he was already inside the doorway without her, as if he had forgotten she was behind him.

He looked back, winced, and then held the door open for her as she stepped through. He stopped at the first door on the left.

“You needn’t say anything,” he whispered. “Just stay near the door.”

She nodded in feigned understanding. She was dumbfounded when he extracted a key from his breast pocket and, after but a slight knock on the door, unlocked and opened it. He stepped in and indicated that she ought to follow and stand in the small cramped entry.

“That you, Taylor?” a husky female voice called.

“It is,” he answered, setting his hat on a cluttered bench.

“Mrs. Krebs with you?” the voice called again.

“A nurse tonight.”

“Pity, that.”

With a nod to Charlotte, Dr. Taylor disappeared into a room a few feet away.

“Let’s check those stitches, then,” she heard him say.

“Let me get a look at her you brought first,” the woman said.

After a pause, Daniel called, “Miss Smith, would you mind stepping in here a moment? Miss Marsden would like to meet you.”

Charlotte stepped forward and paused in the doorway. An attractive though fleshy woman of thirty or so years lay in bed, propped up with pillows and a mobcap over her blond curls. An infant suckled each breast and a toddler lay asleep, curled up peacefully at her side. The woman somehow managed a free hand, from which she was feeding herself a biscuit.

Mouth full, the woman said, “Hoy … a pretty one. And „ young.

“That will be all, Miss Smith.”

Charlotte took a step back, but the woman’s voice stopped her. “Wait on. What’s your hurry.” She turned a calculated gaze on him. “Does she know?”

He began to form what must certainly be the word “no,” for what other answer could he utter, but instead he closed his mouth, then tried again. “Miss Smith has… She knows my father, yes.”

Charlotte felt a smile touch her face at the thought of Daniel’s gentle father. “Yes, he delivered my own babe.”

But instead of the answering smile and empathetic chat she expected, the woman’s face fell into a coarse scowl.

“Oh, did he? And just when was that?”

Before Charlotte could reply, Daniel cut her off. “Only because Miss Smith is a family friend. I have known her since she was a girl. Is that not so, Miss Smith?”

“Oh yes!” she said, grasping the plea in his voice, though not entirely sure how to answer. “Since I was quite young. Dr. Taylor has long been a friend of the family.”

“Just so,” he said, clearly relieved. “His sole patient. Now, then, please let us proceed. I want to make sure all is healing nicely.”

“‘Course you do.” the woman said superciliously. And Charlotte wondered at the sarcasm in her tone.

Back in the carriage a quarter of an hour later, Charlotte could not keep herself from asking, “Has that woman some sort of hold on you?”

Daniel stared straight ahead, his face bleak. “Yes.”

This was all he said, but his grim expression, and what she had seen this night, told her much more.

She nodded, and the two fell into silence.

Several minutes later, Charlotte realized they were taking a different route on the return trip. Suddenly Dr. Taylor pulled the reins up sharply.

“Dear me,” he said. “I turned on the very street I meant to avoid. Or my horse took the way she knows best without consulting me.”

“What is the matter?”

“Carriages ahead. We’ve just crossed into Pentonville.” He leaned over to try to see past the fine tall carriage in front of them. “There are a couple of grand manor houses ahead. One of them must have something going on tonight.”

“Awfully late in the season for a ball,” Charlotte mused. “Must be someone’s birthday.”

The carriage ahead of them pulled forward. “There we go.” They rode alongside the broad stone manse just in time to see a finely clad couple allowed entrance by a black-suited butler.

“Just the one carriage holding up traffic. Good. Latecomers by the looks of it.”

“Could we stop for a moment?”

She knew he looked at her in surprise, but Charlotte’s gaze was focused on the manor and the golden light streaming from the windows.

“I have been here before.”

He reined the horse to the right and halted the rig along the side of the street.

“Yes, I was here with my cousin Katherine during my first season. I cannot recall the family name. But I remember something she said, about the place being `on the very edge of decent society.”’ Charlotte began parroting an upper-crust accent. “‘If the building were one street over, we should have declined the invitation. But since the family throws the most lavish balls in town perhaps to make up for their lack of pristine location-we shall condescend to taste their fine meal and dance with their handsome guests.”’ Charlotte chuckled dryly. “I had no real idea where I was at the time, or how true her words.”

She stared off, remembering. “Please. I’d like to get closer. Just for a moment.”

“But-“

She half rose from her seat, giving Dr. Taylor little choice but to step down from the carriage, pausing only to tie down the reins. Before he could step around to her side to help her down, she was already lowering herself from his side. He offered his hand and she accepted it.

She preceded him across the street, quiet now. She was aware of his footsteps behind her. Then he caught up and walked by her side.

She did not go up the steps to the door but instead daintily lifted her skirts and stepped up over the brick gutter and onto the lawn. She took a few steps closer to the facade, then paused. She looked up, and side to side. The windows were like moving paintings in gold-leaf frames. The light spilling from the windows pooled close to where she had paused, but she did not step into that light. Instead she stood at a distance and watched. Across one window passed couples dancing, swirling gowns of every color flowing by, men in black-and-white smiling solicitously to partners pink-cheeked with pleasure. In another window, people mingled, drinking tea and punch, talking and laughing with one another as though they hadn’t a care in the world beyond the quality of the musicians, the strength of the tea, or the quantity of sugar buns.

Though her view was limited, Charlotte was relieved to see no one she knew. No sign of Bea or William, Charles or Katherine-though Katherine, no doubt adhering to the prescribed month of bed rest, would surely not be in attendance. Charlotte’s breath caught at the sight of Theo Bolger and Kitty Wells. Kitty had always been an attentive friend, and Theo had never failed to seek out Charlotte for a dance. Now, the two danced on without her. She was on the outside, separated forever by glass, by choices.

“Charlotte … ?” Daniel began.

“Let us leave,” she said, turning abruptly and brushing past him without meeting his eyes.

A couple was coming up the street, arm in arm. The man hailed her. “I say, is that Charlotte Lamb?”

Charlotte glanced over and was chagrined to see William Bentley with a girl she did not recognize. Mr. Bentley’s smile was wide in obvious surprise and inebriation.

“It is Charlotte Lamb, and looking … well, quite herself. But I thought-“

“You thought wrong,” Dr. Taylor said brusquely and gently took Charlotte’s arm, leading her across the street. She stole a glance back over her shoulder.

“Not going so soon, I hope? I hadn’t even one dance with you …” He tripped and the girl caught his arm. “‘Course I am a bit unstable on my feet at present.”

Behind them, the girl laughed. “You’ll be a danger on the dance floor tonight, that’s for certain.”

He must be drunk indeed to not notice neither Charlotte nor her companion was dressed for dinner, let alone dancing.

As he helped Charlotte back into the carriage and urged the horse down the dim street, Daniel recalled the last time he had seen William Bentley.

It was at a ball held at Sharsted Court in Doddington more than three years ago now. Daniel had been standing awkwardly in an archway, drinking tea, when two young ladies passed and he thought he heard his name. He stepped back into the shadows, hoping to avoid blatant humiliation.