Charlotte swallowed, instantly knowing the correct answer. “No, madame. We have not been introduced.”
Mrs. Taylor scrutinized her a moment longer, then turned her head.
“Marie!” she called out.
A maid with red-chapped cheeks entered, greying hair fringing out from her mobcap, “Oui, madame?”
“Please show Nurse to her chamber, would you?”
“Bien sûr, madame.”
“Welcome, Miss Lamb,” Mrs. Taylor said. “I hope you will be happy with us.”
As do I, Charlotte thought.
Charlotte did not see Mr. John Taylor, Daniel’s father, that first evening. But the next morning, while she breakfasted alone, he joined her in the dining room and greeted her with a warm smile.
“Miss Smith! How good to see you again. Oh, forgive me—it’s Miss Lamb now, if I understand correctly.”
“That’s right. And a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Taylor.”
He poured himself a cup of tea from the sideboard and sat across from her at the table.
“I was so sorry to hear of your loss.”
“I thank you, sir.”
Keeping his gaze on his teacup, he asked timidly, “It wasn’t anything I did, or failed to do, was it ...?”
“Oh no, of course not, Mr. Taylor. I could not have asked for a kinder, more skilled surgeon.”
“Thank you, Miss Lamb. You are most kind to say so. What a blessing for Anne to have been in your care. Where is the little mite this morning?”
“Still asleep. Tired from the journey, I suppose.”
“Yes, and what a boon to have you here with us. With three beautiful ladies under our roof, well, I don’t see how Daniel or I could be happier.”
She smiled at him. “And you, sir, how do you fare?”
“I miss the work, I must say. I take great pleasure in feeling useful, helping people, you know. I miss it.”
“Of course you do. Is there no hope of returning?”
“Daniel says not.” He looked about the room, as if to reassure himself they were alone. “That Miss Marsden has quite a hold on me, I’m afraid. Says if I ever practice again, she’ll bring me up on charges.”
“But certainly your word, sir, against such a woman’s ...”
“That’s right, Daniel mentioned you met her.” He sighed. “It’s not her alone who holds power over me. It’s her patron, the father of her child, or so she says. Some rich and revengeful lord, to hear her tell it.”
“May I ask who the man is?”
“A Lord Phillip Elton.”
“Lord Elton ...”
“You know him?”
“The name is familiar. I think he might be known to my uncle.”
