Harris rose to his feet, clearly shaken and chagrined. “I am sorry, Charlotte. I had no right to ask.”
She shook her head, wonderingly, despairingly. “Again you would choose your own happiness—and Katherine’s—over mine. Again.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “You would have me take on Katherine’s heartbreak, to suffer in her stead. I cannot have her place in your life, but I can have her intolerable grief?”
Mr. Harris looked at the floor. “You are right, Charlotte,” he said quietly. “It is too much. Forgive my asking.”
Harris turned toward the door, Daniel a few paces behind him. He opened it and gestured Daniel through. As Harris was about to shut the door behind him, Charlotte called out, “Wait.”
Charlotte swallowed as Mr. Harris stepped cautiously back into the room.
Dr. Taylor stood near the door, searching her face. “I shall wait just outside the door,” he said. “If you need me, you need only call.”
Charlotte nodded mutely, and Dr. Taylor closed the door behind him. Mr. Harris took a tentative step back toward the bed, arms behind his back, head bowed.
Charlotte looked away from him, away from her son. She stared toward the window, its shutters folded back. From across the room, the light of the moon outside drew her gaze. She was silent for several minutes. Unable to think. Only to feel.
“You know I want what is best for him,” she began, her throat tight and burning. “But this ... this is too much, too sudden.”
From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed his nod, but he said nothing. She turned from the moonlight to look at him.
“Do you have any idea what you are asking of me? He is my son—my heart! I love him more than my own life. Have you ever felt that way about anyone? Or do you love only yourself ... and that estate of yours?”
“That might have been true once. But no longer.”
“You really do love her, then—Katherine?”
“Yes. Not at first, perhaps. But now ...”
“And would she ... love my son?” Sobs racked her entire body.
He did not answer immediately. When he did, it wasn’t the answer she expected. “Charlotte, you know my wife. Katherine is very loving, but she is also very proud, very jealous, and very possessive.”
“Yes, I know her well.”
“If we act now, and give Edmund to her, she will believe him her own and he will grow up with every advantage, free from scandal, with both a father’s and a mother’s love. But if she knows he is not her own flesh and blood, I fear she will reject him, or at best be bitter toward him—and me—all his life. While Katherine has her failings, she is capable of great love, great loyalty and devotion, and I can promise you Edmund will have all these things from her.”
“She will not mistreat him?”
“Of course not. He is my own son! And she will believe him hers as well.”
“IfI were to consent to this, would you be willing to promise me something?”
He nodded cautiously.
“If she does realize Edmund is not her own, if she cannot love him utterly, I beg you please, return him to me. Promise me you would not let him suffer.”
“I give you my word.”
“Would you give me some time to think about it?”
“We haven’t much time, Charlotte. If I take Edmund home now, or at the very least in the next few hours, when Katherine is just waking from the sedatives, I can easily persuade her that this little boy is her own, home safe and well from his trip to the hospital. If we wait and she suspects, not only is her devotion in question, but my ability to bequeath my land and holdings to him as my legal heir would also be at risk. If we are to do this, it must be now. Tonight.”
“But how ...?”
“Taylor!” He startled her by shouting.
Dr. Taylor opened the door, behind which he had been standing at the ready as promised.
“Come in, man, and close the door.”
