“Mrs. Taylor, I cannot tell you how sorry I am. I never considered how it must be for you to—”
Lizette Taylor held up her palm, ceasing Charlotte’s words midsentence. “I may be a French woman living apart from my country and my family ... but you are in no position to pity me,Nourrice.”
Charlotte looked down and Mrs. Taylor followed her gaze, until her eyes widened.
“Your hands ... what has happened?”
Charlotte looked down at her dirt-streaked gloves.
“I stumbled upon a patch of milkweed and wanted to bring some back, but I fear they proved too stubborn.”
“Why?”
“Well, the roots as you may know are very strong and run very deep, so I settled on bringing back the one.”
“No. I meant why would you want to bring this back. This weed?”
“The milkweed has medicinal qualities, as you are no doubt aware. I thought Dr. Taylor might find it useful, having none in the garden here.”
Mrs. Taylor continued to look at her, her gaze scrutinizing. So Charlotte continued, “I have always loved a garden, but I confess I thought milkweed a mere nuisance. But then I saw your husband’s garden in London—all the varieties of plants for this medicinal purpose and that.” The more Charlotte prattled on, the less she recognized her own voice. She realized too late that Mrs.
Taylor knew how to use silence to her advantage. That by saying nothing, Charlotte felt compelled to blather on, chipping away at her own dignity with each word. “Quite the man of science, your husband.”
“Indeed? Well, here is the man of science now.”
“Hmm?” Daniel looked up from the post in his hand to smile amiably at his wife and then at Charlotte. “What have I missed?”
“My dear, tell me, where did we find such a nurse?” Her voice sounded pleasant enough, but Charlotte detected suspicion in Mrs.
Taylor’s tone.
“From the Manor, as I believe I told you. But I knew Miss Lamb’s family a long time ago as well.”
Her rather thick eyebrows rose. “And how were you acquainted with this woman’s family?”
“It was during my apprenticeship in Kent. I called often on her mother with Dr. Webb.”
Mrs. Taylor turned again to Charlotte. “And your mother, how is she now?”
“I’m afraid she died. Many years ago now.”
“And how is it you came to be a nurse? I don’t mean ... the particulars. I mean, where is your own child?”
Charlotte swallowed. “I’m afraid he ... he is gone as well. I had him but a few days.”
Mrs. Taylor looked at her husband, eyes wide under tented brows.
“Andthisis the fit woman you would have nurse my child?”
“Lizette. You have no cause for concern. I can attest to Miss Lamb’s character and her health. She has cared for Anne these many months while you were ... indisposed.”
“If madame prefers, I can leave on the morrow,” Charlotte quietly interjected.
She could feel the woman’s stare on the top of her bowed head.
Charlotte was mortified, but if she wasn’t wanted, she would leave.
Even if it meant saying good-bye to Anne.
