Dr. Taylor seemed to calm at the question. “Common wisdom dictates that a nurse passes on not only nutrition but her very character, her qualities, her good and vice through her milk. I do not believe science bears this out, but if there is any truth in it at all, I certainly believe that the care of a kind, loving, and honorable woman can only be to my daughter’s benefit.”
“How can you say such things of me. After everything ...?”
He took a step closer to her and looked directly into her eyes.
“There’s not one of us who passes through this life without making a mistake, Miss Lamb,” he said gently, “but it’s a rare soul who redeems one so utterly. I have never known a more noble, more honorable, more worthy woman ... and if my daughter can glean any of those qualities, well, I should be exceedingly grateful.”
She stared up at him, seeing the sincerity shining in his blue-green eyes.
She opened her mouth to give an answer, but at that moment she heard a familiar voice call out her name.
“Charlotte?”
She turned and saw a finely dressed and wonderfully familiar woman at the garden gate. She excused herself from Dr. Taylor and strode quickly up the garden path, hardly noticing that Dr. Taylor quickly stepped back inside the manor.
“Aunt Tilney! How I’ve longed for you to come!”
The two women embraced, and then Charlotte led her aunt to the garden bench. Amelia Tilney’s eyes widened as she looked into the basket at the sleeping infant.
“Is thisyourchild?”
“No.”
“I thought not.”
Charlotte looked at her aunt, brows raised.
“The tone of the letter suggested something was amiss here.”
“But I did not send a letter.”
“A letter from a physician, a Dr. Taylor.”
“Dr. Taylor wrote to you?”
“Yes.” Her aunt sat beside her, withdrew a folded note from her reticule, and handed it to her. “Very wise, really. Your uncle would have recognized your hand and chastised me. He might have readthisdirectly and not known it pertained to you.”
Charlotte read the brief note quickly.
To Mrs. Amelia Tilney,
Madam, I thank you for your interest and support of our work at the Manor Home in the past. I am writing to inform you of a new development here which will be of particular interest to you. In fact, we are in need of the wise counsel that your past association uniquely equips you to offer. We understand you are a person with innumerable commitments and restraints upon your leisure, but do urgently hope you will find the time. Our facilities are open to you at any hour. Please do call on us as at your earliest convenience.
Most sincerely,
Dr. Daniel Taylor
Physician, The Manor Home for Unwed Mothers
“I never asked him to write,” Charlotte said, still staring at the letter. “I do not see how you understand anything from these few lines.”
“I read between them, as they say. What has happened?”
Charlotte handed back the note. “I had a child. A son. But he is gone. Lost to me.”
The tears that sprang immediately to her aunt’s large brown eyes were salve to Charlotte’s soul. Her mother’s sister sat next to her on the bench and laid gloved fingertips on Charlotte’s hand. “My dear girl. How long ago?”
“He was born ten days ago. I had him for six days. Six very short days.”
