Sally bit her lip. “I shall try.”
“Well, then, meet me here tonight at nine o’clock and we’ll walk into the village together.”
“I don’t know. The master and missus are going out for the evening. I don’t know who could look in on Edmund for me.”
“One of the other servants?”
“Perhaps.”
“Listen, love. You’re not the first nurse to find herself in this fix.
But if your charge sleeps till you get back, who’s to be the wiser?”
“Oh, but Edmund will want his eleven o’clock feeding. If he wakes the whole house, I shall have the devil to pay by morning.”
“Well, what if you could make sure he sleeps quiet as a mouse right through the night?”
Sally laughed dryly. “By what magic?”
Her new friend’s eye lit up with a mischievous gleam. “By this.”
She pulled from her skirt pocket a small corked bottle.
Sally felt her eyes widen. “What is it?”
“Just a bit of laudanum.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Never you mind.”
“Does it make babes sleep?”
“Aye. Surgeons use it all the time—it’s quite safe.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, I’ve used it several times myself.”
“Really?” Sally’s eyes seemed fixed on the small vial.
Mary held it out to her. “Go on, then.”
“But—how do I ...?
“Just put a bit into his mouth before you nurse him.”
“How do I know how much to give him?”
“Oh, I’d say half a teaspoon ought to do it.”
“You sure it shan’t harm him?”
“’Course I’m sure. When did sleep ever harm anybody?” Sally looked at her friend’s earnest face and back to the bottle.
“Here, take it.” Mary pressed the vial into her hand.
Sally gingerly took hold of it.
