Amber supposed she was right and for the first time she wondered if she shouldn’t have taken her uncle up on his offer of going to live with him. But then she thought of Charlotte and she knew that she could never leave her now.
The afternoon passed all too quickly and before they knew it it was time to set off back to the house.
‘Our Nancy won’t be gettin’ another afternoon off fer three weeks now but you’re welcome to come every week,’ Mrs Grimshaw told Amber as the girls lifted their still damp outer clothes from the clotheshorse where they had been steaming in front of the fire.
‘Thank you, Mrs Grimshaw, I appreciate the offer.’ Amber gave her a peck on the cheek and she and Nancy went out into the fast-darkening afternoon to begin the long climb back up the hill. Thankfully there was no sign of Bertie Preston, although Amber kept a cautious eye out for him the whole way.
‘Crikey, ain’t that the doctor’s carriage outside again?’ Nancy asked as they reached the end of the drive leading to Greenacres.
‘Looks like it, the mistress must be took bad again.’
They hurried inside and whilst Nancy took the servants stairs to her room, Amber walked up the elegant sweeping staircase that led to the first floor before beginning the climb up to the nursery floor.
Both the babies were dozing in their cribs when Amber entered the nursery and Becky was sitting at the table trying to make sense of the words in the newspaper.
‘Hello, I were just wishin’ I could read an’ write,’ she said wistfully. ‘All these squiggles are double Dutch to me. Me mam could never afford to send us to school, see?’
‘So why don’t I try to teach you?’ Amber slipped her cloak and bonnet off and hung them up on the back of the door before going to check on the babies.
‘What? Yer’d do that fer me?’ Becky’s mouth gaped.
‘Why not? It’s really not that hard once you’ve learnt your alphabet. We’ll start this evening after the babies are settled in bed, eh? And do you know why the doctor’s here again? Is it the mistress poorly? I was worried it might be David.’
‘Must be,’ Becky answered with a shrug. ‘David’s fine, or at least he’s no worse than he always is. He wouldn’t touch his pobs or his milk again.’
They began to boil the water for the infants’ baths and later that evening as Amber gave Becky her first lesson, Nancy sidled into the room to bring them their supper.
‘The missus is in a really bad way,’ she confided. ‘An’ there’s all ’ell breakin’ loose downstairs. The master an’ Mr Hamilton-Tate are goin’ at it hammer an’ tongs in the study by the sound of it. I heard ’em as I was carryin’ this up. Yer couldn’t be off it really, they must be able to ’ear ’em all over the bloody ’ouse!’
‘Nice to work somewhere so peaceful, ain’t it?’ Becky said, tongue in cheek, and they all laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Athin, mewling cry coming from the nursery next door woke Amber in the middle of the night. She was out of bed in a second and after hastily lighting a candle she hurried in to see who was crying. She saw immediately that Charlotte was sleeping peacefully so she turned to David’s crib. Gently lifting him into her arms she crossed to the chair at the side of the fire and stroked his hair as she sat and rocked him to and fro. He didn’t appear to have a temperature or be in any pain so eventually, when his eyelids drooped again, she planted a kiss on his cheek, laid him carefully back in his cot, tucked his covers about him, and with a yawn went back to her own bed.
As usual Charlotte was the first to wake the next morning ready for her breakfast and Amber chuckled as she lifted her into her arms, enjoying the clean baby smell of her. Seconds later, Becky appeared knuckling the sleep from her eyes.
‘Morning,’ she said blearily as she went to heat the milk for the babies’ bottles and make the porridge that they could now eat. Once that was done, she crossed to David’s crib and as she leant over him her hand flew to her mouth and she gasped.
‘I-I think there’s sommat wrong wi’ David,’ she said tremulously.
Instantly Amber was on her feet and hurrying over with Charlotte still in her arms. She thrust the child at Becky who took her automatically and bending she lifted David from his cot. He was limp and his skin looked pale.
‘Run down for Mr Greenwood,’ she ordered with a note of panic in her voice. ‘I don’t think he’s breathin’.’
Becky dumped Charlotte, who was protesting loudly, back into her crib and was off like a March hare.
Minutes later Barnaby Greenwood burst in with Becky close behind him, his face a mask of concern.
‘What’s wrong?’ He snatched his son from Amber’s arms but the child was like a little rag doll and Barnaby began to keen. ‘Oh, my dear God?.?.?. Becky, run to the stables and get one of the grooms to go for the doctor. Tell him it’s urgent andhurry!’ He turned to Amber, and still cradling his son he asked, ‘What happened?’
‘I-I don’t know.’ Amber was devastated. ‘He woke in the night and I got up and rocked him back to sleep and then when I got up he was like this?.?.?.’
At that moment Margaret Hamilton-Tate swept into the room and taking in the pitiful sight in front of her she rasped, ‘What’s going on here? What’s all the fuss about? The nursery-maid just raced past me and almost knocked me over in the hallway saying something about a problem with one of the babies!’
‘It’s David. I’ve sent for the doctor.’ Barnaby’s eyes never left his son’s face and crossing to him Margaret took his wrist and felt for a pulse.
‘Hm, well I’m afraid there is nothing he will be able to do,’ she said quietly. ‘This child is dead. Has been for a few hours, I should say. He’s stone cold.’ Turning to Amber, she demanded, ‘Where were you?’
