She grimaced, looking confused before quickly removing the twisted-up handkerchiefs from her ears.
And watching her scrambling to cover her incompetence, Malum straightaway realized that, had he taken even a few minutes to interview this person, he never would have left her alone with Ernest.Blast and damn.
This was his own fault.
“Your name,” he repeated.
“Mrs. Flora Green,” the nurse answered.
Malum took note of it and then snapped his head in Lady Melanie’s direction. “Is Ernest all right?”
His neighbor nodded, but she frowned. “He’s soaked,” she said, and yet she wasn’t holding Ernest away from her body in disgust, as most ladies would. She’d tucked the baby’s downy head beneath her chin and had both arms wrapped around the tiny little body.
Mrs. Green, who’d fumbled to rise from the chair, took a few steps toward Lady Melanie, as though to take the baby out of her arms.
“You’ll keep away from him,” Malum ordered.
The foolish woman spun around defiantly.
“I assure you, I’ve everything in hand, sir. Some babies simply cry more than others.” A poor explanation for why she, a professional nursemaid, had so thoroughly neglected the boy she was being paid handsomely to care for. “And this one, well, he wouldn’t take the pap.”
From Malum’s experience the night before, he was quite familiar with the mixture of milk, bread, and water. Both before it had been digested and after.
Although dribbling it into the uncooperative newborn’s mouth required patience, it wasn’t impossible. If he, a bachelor duke, could manage it…
“Best not to coddle them from the start, lest they expect it later.” Mrs. Green glanced between Malum and Lady Melanie, still foolishly trying to defend her actions—or lack thereof.
Had she truly believed she could rest her head while the boy—a child in the Duke of Malum’s care—needed attention?
What if Ernest had fallen ill, as Lady Melanie feared, or worse, injured himself because of her neglect?
Malum glanced back toward Lady Melanie, who was staring down at Ernest. The babe’s mouth was open, and twisting his neck, he seemed to be looking for something.
“He’s hungry,” his neighbor insisted almost forcefully, the incredulous horror he felt so intimately reflected in her eyes as well.
“I know my business,” sniffed Mrs. Green, indignant. “The child would have eaten when he was hungry enough.”
Malum exhaled through his nostrils. Until the previous night, his knowledge of childrearing could have fit in a thimble. Normally, he would have deferred to a professional.
But he couldn’t accept anything this woman was saying.
Tipton appeared in the door, looking appropriately sheepish. “How shall I handle this matter, Your Grace?” he asked.
You ought to have handled this earlier.
“Send her packing,” Malum said. “With a week’s wages.”
Mrs. Green let out a sharp gasp. “You can’t do that!” Her outrage was almost laughable. “I was hired by theWellington Household Placement Agency, I’ll have you know.”
“Wrong, you were hired by the Duke of Malum. Now you’re being fired by him.”
She dropped her gaze, suddenly contrite. “Please, Your Grace. I have nowhere to go. I can’t lose my living…” Mrs. Green curtsied once, and then again. “Please… I’ll keep him quiet in the future.”
Malum had heard quite enough from this woman. “Out of my sight.” His voice rumbled with the weight of his disgust, a warning. “At once.”
The nursemaid glanced toward Lady Melanie, as though she thought she’d find mercy with another woman. Malum’s not-so-timid neighbor simply narrowed her eyes, providing the older woman with none.
Mrs. Green swallowed visibly but then began gathering her belongings, bristling, but wise enough not to argue further.
