Charlotte grinned up at his father. “I must say I quite agree with you, sir.”
“May I?” Daniel asked.
Charlotte nodded, and he began his examination of the plump, pink babe.
His father said mildly, “Miss Charlotte here tells me she knew you when she was a girl.”
“Yes, I had the privilege of meeting Charlotte’s family during my apprenticeship in Kent.”
“And now here you meet again. God looks after His lambs, now doesn’t He?”
Charlotte’s lips rose in an attempted smile, but Daniel could see she doubted the sentiment. For his part, he did not miss the irony of his father referring to Miss “Smith” as a “lamb.”
“You are both correct,” Daniel pronounced. “Perfect indeed.” He rebundled the infant and returned him to Charlotte’s arms.
“And what will you call him?” his father asked.
“I have not decided.”
“Well, no great hurry.” His father picked up his bag and packed away his last few things. “You rest awhile, miss. You’ve had quite a day already.”
“Thank you. I shall.”
Mrs. Moorling knocked at the partially opened door and stepped inside. “I’ve brought Ruth to nurse your child for you.”
“I planned to do that myself.”
“In time you shall.”
“But—”
Charlotte glanced from Mrs. Moorling to him, clearly embarrassed to discuss such matters in front of two men, but still he didn’t feel he could leave without explaining. “Prevailing opinion is that a mother’s first milk is not suitable for her child. Most women have nurses for the first few days.”
“And you agree with this ‘prevailing’ opinion?”
“Frankly, I do not. Nor does Father.”
“You go right ahead and nurse that bonny boy yourself, if you like, miss,” his father soothed. “Won’t hurt him a bit. After all, the good Lord knew what He was doing when He designed the whole affair.”
“Dr. Taylor?” Mrs. Moorling, clearly disapproving, looked to Daniel.
“I see no problem with it. Perhaps Sally Mitchell would be so good as to instruct Miss Smith on proper positioning.”
He noticed Charlotte’s face and neck became splotched red with embarrassment.
“We shall leave you for now,” he said, wanting to end her discomfort. “Come now, Father.”
“I shall return on the morrow to check on you, miss,” his father offered. “And I will sign the birth record as soon as you settle on a name.”
“Thank you.”
Once in the corridor, Daniel took his father’s arm and leaned close as they walked away. “What are you doing, Father? You do not really mean to return?”
“I always check on my patients.”
“She is not your patient ...”
“Of course she is. I delivered her son myself.”
