“Miss Apsley,” she said softly, dipping a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to see ye.”
“I won’t keep you. We have brought bread and a treat for all of you—congratulations on welcoming the new addition to your family.”
“Thank you, miss.” She shifted the babe in order to accept the parcel from Rose. “Would you care to come in for a moment? I haven’t any tea to offer, but—”
“We would like that very much. A visit with you is more than sufficient.”
She nodded and welcomed us inside. I did not know the family well; they preferred to keep to themselves. This was the first time I had been welcomed into the walls of their small home. Perhaps if I continued our acquaintance, making small steps toward friendship, they would allow me to help more.
The girl paused once she had closed the door, and her brows furrowed as she glanced around the room. There was a table in one corner but not enough chairs to fill it. There was also a single sofa. Certainly not enough seating for visitors, and the girl seemed to only now realize this.
“How is your mother?” I asked, hoping to distract her from embarrassment.
“She is…” The girl sighed. “Not in the best of spirits. I worry for her. She is recovering physically from the birth, but she seems so far away. I think she misses Papa.”
“I imagine so,” I said, fighting the knot in my throat. “It must be hard for her, but she is fortunate to have you and your siblings.”
The girl smiled. “I do what I can for her while Lucas is out for work. He takes whatever jobs he can to support us. Sometimes, like today, my other siblings assist him.”
Lucas, I knew, was the oldest of the children. That he now had the burden of the family’s welfare on his shoulders at such a young age pained my heart. I would speak with Father about finding them work at Kenwick, although I was not sure if such an offer would be accepted by the Pomfreys. Lucas was much like his father and had turned down charity from us in the past.
“Madeline?” a voice croaked from a room beyond.
“Oh! I was fixin’ Mama a tincture to help with her headache. Would you mind?” She held up the infant, a pleading look in her eyes.
I hesitated. Had I ever held a babe this tiny before? I thought not.
“Only for a moment,” the girl added, nearly begging now.
“Of course.” I smiled and held out my arms. The girl shifted the swaddled bundle into them and promised to return quickly. The babe wiggled, awakened by the transfer, and I bounced her gently.
Her.I peeled the blanket away from her cherub face to better admire the sweet girl. She had a rounded button nose and light hair that reminded me of Bridget’s. She cooed softly, and my heart twinged with something entirely new and unfamiliar. The baby’s continued sounds drew out a smile that I could not hide, and a strange sense of contentment swelled within me.
“She is lovely, is she not?” Rose whispered.
“Yes. Beautiful and sweet.”
“Someday you will have one of your own,” Rose continued. “I hope you keep me around to see it. A babe with your red hair, curls and all.”
I forced my smile to remain in place. I planned to keep Rose with me as long as she was willing to stay, but there would be no red-headed babes. There would be no babes at all. I never planned to marry.
I glanced down at the sweet girl in my arms, and rather than a feeling of pleasant contentment, a sense of loss filled me. My independence meant no children, and I had always been at peace with that. I would not linger on the temporary sadness I felt now.
Some things required sacrifice. Independence was one of them.
Ihadneverspentmore time in confusion than I had the past three days. Who was this new Lieutenant Paget, and what had he done with the vexing man I left in London? He spent his mornings with Father. After that, he would leave with Russell to fish or hunt. They returned late each afternoon and always in good spirits, whether their ventures were successful or not.
At night, the lieutenant was a perfect dinner companion, never speaking out of turn or prodding at my patience with remarks meant to agitate my nerves. There were hints at teasing, but they were so lackluster compared to what I experienced with him in Town that I was almost disappointed.
Almost.
At least when he intentionally poked fun and taunted, our conversations were livelier. More engaging. More interesting.
Lieutenant Paget had become a complete bore.
I tugged my lips to one side. He had not mentioned his missing friend again, and I was dying to know what had come of his conversation with my father. Perhaps this less ebullient version of the lieutenant was simply due to his lingering concern. I had no doubt that, whoever this person was, he cared about them greatly. That much had been evident during our discussion his first evening at Kenwick.
As the footmen removed the last course and replaced the plates with a bowl of berry trifle, I determined to speak with him on the matter once we had all gathered in the drawing room. Would he indulge my questions? Since the first night, all we had spoken of were shallow topics, like the weather. If he asked me again when I thought the gray clouds might disperse, I would throttle him.
