Thomas shrugged. “Works with sheep.”
“Indeed?”
“I’ll go brew some yarrow tea for Betsy,” Thomas said quickly and left the room.
Dr. Kendall watched him go, amazement on his face.
“Whoisthat young man?”
“His name is Thomas Cox.”
“Ah yes ... I’ve heard of him. Friend of yours?”
“Yes.”
“Has he ever considered the medical profession?”
“I believe he has.”
“I wonder if he would be interested in an apprenticeship.”
“I believe Dr. Taylor wonders that as well.”
Charlotte returned to Lloyd Lodge two hours later, only to hear the baby’s piercing cries before she had reached the door. Charlotte hurried inside. Mrs. Taylor was pacing the parlor, bouncing the child in an attempt to soothe her. Lizette’s face was flushed red, and it was clear both mother and daughter had been crying for quite some time.
“Ici. Take her.” Mrs. Taylor thrust the child toward Charlotte. “I cannot make her stop crying. It seems only you have such power.”
“No power, madame,” she said gently, taking the child in her arms. “Only milk.”
“Non.It is clear my daughter prefers you. My husband as well ...”
“No, madame. Anne only wants me when she’s hungry.” She sat down and skillfully unfastened the hidden front flap of her nursing frock, discreetly allowing the child to nurse with minimum exposure of her person. “There you are.” She looked back up at Mrs. Taylor, hoping to assure her. “As for Dr. Taylor, he was a friend to my family long ago, and I appreciate his offer of employment. I am grateful to have a position with such a respectable family as you are.”
New tears filled the woman’s eyes. “You say the right words. I know I should believe you. I should be thankful that you are here, taking care of my child. But I am not. I want to nurse her myself. But I cannot.”
“I am sorry.”
“My body, my mind, betray me. My husband ...”
“No, madame. Never your husband.”
“Non? Then, why am I so angry?Je pleure de rage.”
Lizette Taylor turned and strode from the room, the echo of her words capped with a sob.I am so angry I weep.
After laying Anne down for her nap, Charlotte knocked softly on Dr. Taylor’s study door, her heart pounding painfully.
“Yes?”
She stepped inside, leaving the door ajar.
“Good afternoon, Miss Lamb.”
“Good afternoon.” She cleared her throat. “Dr. Taylor, I am afraid the time has come for me to leave your employ.”
“Pardon me?”
“Do not think me ungrateful. I do appreciate all you have done for me. But it is time I moved on. I wonder if you might consider sending a messenger to find Sally? If you find her quickly, before she takes another position or her milk fades, she would serve you well, I have no doubt. Or if that does not suit, perhaps another nurse from the Manor.”
