He returned her smile and straightened. They began walking back toward the cottage. “I am sorry I had not thought to offer you a more, shall we say, traditional post. In all truth, the midwives and nurses I know are older, work-hardened women with little education—very different from my perception of you. Still, I have no doubt you are more than capable, should such a position truly appeal to you.”
“I should never have guessed so until recently. Though I suppose a position of governess or lady’s companion is more in keeping with my upbringing.”
“I’m afraid I have no need of either at present.” He smiled wryly. “I also have a quite competent monthly nurse at the moment. And there is a local midwife as well—Mrs. Henning, whom you met—though she is getting up in years. Perhaps I might call on you in the future, should the need arise?”
“Indeed you may. Though I would have much to learn.”
“As do we all, Miss Lamb. But I have no doubt you would be a most able student. Have we an understanding, then?”
She nodded. “We do.”
“And may we ... part as friends?”
She smiled. “We may.”
Daniel watched the discussion from afar. The exchange took longer than he would have thought and she did not strike Kendall nor stalk off as he’d guessed she would—hoped she would. And now there was no mistaking the nod of her head, the slight bow the two exchanged, the smile on his friend’s face. She had agreed. Daniel did not wish to think about what it would mean ... or to ponder why his chest felt like it might cave in on itself.
You will suckle your infant your self if you can;
be not such an ostrich as to decline it, merely because
you would be one of the careless women, living at ease.
—COTTONMATHER,ORNAMENTS FOR THEDAUGHTERS OFZION, 1692
(NOTE:MATHER’SOWN CHILDREN WERE WET-NURSED.)
CHAPTER27
Before the assembled family and staff, Charlotte bid Mr. and Mrs. Taylor a formal, somewhat stiff farewell. She was careful to only glance briefly in Sally and Anne’s direction, lest she give too much away. She had sat up rocking the little girl half the night, so those farewells had already been endured. Ignoring Marie’s smirk, she smiled at Mrs. Beebe, who had earlier that morning embraced her in the kitchen and stuffed a bundle of food and jingling coin into her reticule, brooking no objection. Now Charlotte bit her lip to keep it from trembling, turned, and left the cottage, reticule in hand and heart in her throat.
Thomas walked with her into Old Shoreham this time, carrying her bags as though they weighed nothing.
As they crested the bridge, a family approached from the other side—father with child in arms, mother holding a little boy’s hand—and she and Thomas stepped close to the rail to allow them to pass. When they had, Charlotte walked on but quickly noticed Thomas stayed where he was.
Retracing her steps, she looked at him questioningly. “What is it?”
He stood stiffly, and in a voice nearly petulant said, “I wish there was something I could do.”
She studied his face, so unusually somber. “Thomas,” she soothed, “there are some things even you cannot fix.” She smiled gently. “It’s all right.”
He turned and gripped the bridge rail, still refusing to go farther.
She stood at the rail beside him, an arm’s length away. Staring at the river below, she sensed his agitation, his deliberation.
But what could he do? She knew any money he made went to help his mother provide for his many siblings. Even if he began working as an apprentice, he would have little money of his own for several years. He was surely not yet thinking of taking a wife—not her, in any case. Was he?
Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut, realizing that if she did not speak, he would. Without turning to face him she said cheerfully, “I told Sally how it was, between us.”
She heard him move a step closer to her. His voice was uncertain. “Did you?”
She stole a glance at him before returning her gaze to the water. “Yes, I told her that you could never think of me the way I do you.”
“Charlotte—”
She went on quickly, “For you already have four sisters, but I have never had a brother.”
Turning toward him, she self-consciously lifted her gaze to his. “And I have always longed for one.”
