Lady of Milkweed Manor (46 page)

“Merciful heavens!” Kendall exclaimed beside him. “Is that Anne?”

Daniel turned. There was Charlotte, the sun at her back, casting a golden glow around her. He winced. His mind must be numb, or hallucinatory.

“Yes,” the Charlotte-image said. “I found her asleep up the shore. Surrounded by rocks and driftwood.”

“Thank God,” Kendall said. “Daniel! Anne’s all right. She’s alive. Do you hear me?”

Daniel sat mutely as Charlotte walked toward him, tears streaming down her face as her eyes darted to, then away from Lizette’s still form.

She knelt beside him and gently handed Anne to him. Then she rose and stepped back.

Daniel stared down at Anne, who was awake now and seemed pleased to see him. She wriggled and babbled, her little fists moving from her mouth to clasp his nose.

“Yes … I seem to have lost my spectacles. Do you still recognize me?”

The little girl opened her mouth in a toothless grin.

“Your maman is gone. I am so sorry, dear one. She loved younever think she didn’t. She just … could not stay. I tried to help her, but I could not….”

Thomas and Sally returned with blankets, and Kendall wrapped one around Daniel’s shoulders. Then he laid the other one carefully over Lizette. Sally took Anne and headed back toward the cottage.

“Come, my friend,” Kendall urged gently. “Let’s get you into the house and out of those wet clothes.”

Daniel looked over at his wife’s shrouded form. “I cannot leave her.”

“I shall see to her,” Kendall assured.

Together Charlotte and Thomas helped Daniel up and into the cottage.

The day after the funeral, Charlotte found Daniel sitting on the bench, staring out at the sea. Wordlessly, she sat down as well, careful to leave a proper amount of space between them. He acknowledged her presence with the slightest nod before returning his gaze to the sea.

“You never really knew her, Miss Lamb. Not really. Not the woman she once was.”

She asked softly, “How did the two of you meet?”

“She was working as a governess in Edinburgh when I was at university there. I first saw her in the park, swinging her little charge around and around until the sound of their laughter filled the square. I can still see her in her green-striped dress, her dark hair escaping her straw bonnet, her smile so bright-the only brightness to be seen on that grey Scottish day. She told me she had left her home in Normandy, looking for adventure.

“Only later did I find out she was looking for escape, that her mother was afflicted in much the way Lizette was, at the end.” He leaned over, elbows on his knees. “I don’t think she meant to deceive me. I think she truly believed, or at least desperately hoped, that she’d left all of that far behind her, that she could avoid the same fate. We traveled to Caen only once to meet her family. I suspected how it was with her mother, but by then it was too late. I was in love with Lizette. I could not have stopped myself from marrying her, even had I known what was to be.”

After a few minutes of silence, Daniel sighed. “Still, I should have seen it coming. Should have prevented it somehow.”

She glanced over at him, saw him shake his head dolefully.

“I wanted to move her someplace safe, but she begged to stay. She said she loved it here-felt closer to home. Too close, it turns out.”

“How could you know? She was much improved.”

“So we thought. Or so she wanted us to believe. But I should have known better.”

“Mr. Taylor …” Without intending to, she had slipped back to his former address.

“If only I had found a more effective treatment. Or insisted we return to London a fortnight ago.”

“Mr. Taylor … do you not remember what you said to me when my mother died?”

No.

“I was sure that if only I had been a better daughter, or prayed harder, or insisted she not tire herself in the garden, then she would have lived.”

He shrugged.

“But you told me God does not work that way. Remember?”

“And I believe you told me I needed to read the Old Testament.”

“That you choose to remember.” She smiled gently. “It is not your fault.”

It had taken a long time for Charlotte to believe this herself. She feared Daniel Taylor would prove no quicker a student.

He took a deep breath, then straightened. “Thank you again for finding Anne. I don’t know that I could have gone on if-“

“Shh … Someone else would have found her had I not happened along.”

“I can only hope so. How did you happen to be here that day?”

She took a deep breath. “I awoke with the darkest foreboding that morning. Even though Sally assured me at the inn that all was well, I had to come. I should have walked, but Dr. Kendall and Thomas passed by on their way here and offered me a ride.”

“And what were they about? I never asked, and after, well, everything, I quite forgot.”

“Dr. Kendall brought Thomas out with the intention of convincing the both of you that Thomas should remain here as his apprentice. But after he saw Thomas’s loyalty to you that day, I believe he quite gave it up.”

“Yes. That boy has a place with me for as long as he wants one.”

The two sat for several more minutes without speaking before Daniel said, “I shall be returning to London soon. Letting go of this place early. You are welcome to stay on here until I do. That is, unless Kendall … unless you have made other arrangements.”

“I have made other arrangements.”

“I see.” He rose abruptly. “Of course that is none of my affair.”

“My arrangements are not with Dr. Kendall, however,” she said.

“No?”

“I have taken a post with a family in Old Shoreham.”

“May I ask in what capacity?”

“As their nurse.”

“Oh … I had not realized you planned to continue in that vocation.”

“I had not planned to do so. But they were in need and, well, there I was. It is only temporary.”

In fact, Georgiana Henshaw was well on her way to nursing her son herself. She had begun nursing him once or twice a day as her recovery allowed while Charlotte kept up with the other feedings. But the young mother was quickly assuming the majority of nursing. Mrs. Henshaw had assured Charlotte she would be welcome to stay on as long as she liked, but Charlotte doubted Mr. Henshaw would agree to such generous terms.

“And after?”

She shrugged. “Return to Crawley, I suppose. As I intended to do before.”

But the next morning, Sally received a letter that changed Charlotte’s plans once again.

Charlotte had returned to take breakfast with Sally and, privately, to assure herself that Mr. Taylor was all right. As they sat visiting, Mrs. Beebe came into the kitchen with the morning post. “Letter for you, Sally.”

Sally took the letter and studied the direction with surprise but none of the happiness Charlotte might have expected.

“‘Tis from my sister.”

Dr. Taylor came in for a cup of tea while Sally opened the missive and read as quickly as her skill allowed. After a moment, she propped a hand on the table as if to support herself.

Alarmed, Charlotte asked, “Sally, what is it?”

“‘Tis Dickie. She says he’s very ill. Oh! I must go to him at once.

“Steady on,” Dr. Taylor said. “What else does she say?”

“He’s weak, high fever, won’t eat…. She fears the worst. And this was written days ago now! Dr. Taylor, please help him. You will come, won’t you? Please.”

He hesitated a moment, in which time Charlotte feared he was offended by Sally’s presumption that he should drop everything to help a child he barely knew, or that, in his morose state, he felt ill-equipped to save anyone.

Instead, he set his cup down. “We shall go directly.”

In a flurry of plans and instructions, Charlotte agreed to remain at Lloyd Lodge for a few days to nurse Anne and give notice to the Henshaws. Marie would return with Sally and Dr. Taylor to prepare the London house, which had no doubt gathered dust during their absence with only John Taylor to care for it. Charlotte would stay behind long enough to see to the packing and help the Beebes set the place to rights. Then she would escort Anne back to London, to the home Dr. Taylor shared with his father. After that … she did not know.

It wasn’t within her to refuse any help Anne Taylor-or her father needed. Still it chafed her a bit to realize she was allowing her course to be set by the winds of circumstance. Yet again.

Forcing thoughts off herself, she set to work and prayed fervently for the recovery of Sally’s son.

What will you think when I tell you she is not yet weaned? How to set about it is more than I know …

1765 LETTER BETWEEN FRIENDS, FROM THE GENTLEMAN’S DAUGHTER BY AMANDA VICKERY

CHAPTER 31

r. John Taylor met her coach with broad smiles for both -Anne and herself.

“How good to see you again, Miss Charlotte. And little Anne! How much you have grown!”

Anne’s little lip trembled as her grandfather put his face close to hers. “Forgot me already, did you? We shall soon put that to rights.”

“I am sure you shall if you can catch her. She has just learned to creep about.”

“Has she indeed. Well, there’ll be no rest for any of us now. All those tempting staircases.”

He gestured to the hackney driver he had hired to take them the rest of the way to the Taylor residence. The bulky man came and gathered her baggage and carried the load to his carriage. They followed and Mr. Taylor held Anne while Charlotte climbed in. The child looked at him warily but did not cry.

Once they were all settled and Anne back in Charlotte’s arms, Mr. Taylor looked across at them and said, “You look as well fed as a stuffed goose at Christmas. I mean Anne, of course. I must say you look far too thin. You are in good health, I hope.”

“I am. Thank you.”

“What a trying time this has been for all of you, no doubt. Daniel looked positively dreadful upon his return.”

“And little Dickie?”

Mr. Taylor shook his head gravely. “I’m afraid the lad is very ill indeed. Still, Daniel hasn’t given up hope.”

Coming to a halt at the Taylors’ offices and residence on Wimpole Street, Mr. Taylor paid the driver and asked him to bring the baggage to the living quarters above.