“I cannot say,” Daniel whispered back. “I fear I am not the thespian your great-aunt is. It’s quite possible my expression gave something away. What do you think? You know her better than I.”
“I think the questions are even now parading through her mind.”
WANTED
A NURSE with a good Breast of Milk,
of a healthy Constitution and good Character,
that is willing to go into a Gentleman’s Family.
—MARYLANDGAZETTE,1750
CHAPTER21
Charles Harris attempted to read while his wife paced the length of Fawnwell’s newly restored sitting room.
“Really, Charles. A journey of that length to pay a house call? On a widow who cannot have more than a hundred pounds a year?”
“What did the woman say?”
“Something about her son and Dr. Taylor having been at school together.”
“Well, then.” Charles flipped over his newspaper.
“I do not believe it. I cannot imagine the Dunweedys affording Oxford or Cambridge. Which did Taylor attend, do you know?”
“I do not.”
“I think I shall find out.”
“To what purpose?”
“Clearly something is amiss with the entire situation.”
Charles looked at her over his paper. “Of course there is. Did you not find your unmarried cousin with a child?”
“Yes, yes. I do not mean that. I mean with Taylor showing up there.”
“Did you not ask him to get the money to her?”
“Yes, but I had the distinct impression he was there as a course of habit.”
Charles shrugged, resuming his reading. “Even if he was there to check on Charlotte, a former patient, I don’t see that as so unusual.”
“Do you not?”
Keeping his tone casual and his eyes on his paper, Charles said, “You said Charlotte has a girl ... a daughter?”
“Yes. Calls her Anne. Little thing. Not at all as robust as our Edmund.”
“And what did Charlotte have to say about Edmund?”
“The usual niceties, I suppose. Though without the enthusiasm I might have expected. She did agree he looks like you.”
Charles nodded but said no more.
“I also admit, I studied her child quite closely, thinking to see a resemblance to someone we both know quite well.”
