With a sharp nod toward Miss Hollerfield, Bethie commanded, “See if you can get some laudanum down her,” before stalking from the chamber.
Corinne’s eyes fluttered, sending a surge of relief through Lorelei. “Miss Hollerfield, Mrs. Wells will be seeing to the needs of the baby—”
“No—”
“Please, dear. It’s only to give you adequate time to recover.” Lorelei tipped her head to Mrs. Wells. The wet nurse slipped into the adjoining room.
Tears welled in Corinne’s eyes, and Lorelei hastened to reassure her. “Your child is within calling distance, Miss Hollerfield, should you wake and desire to see him. For now, however, I insist you rest. I shall send Agnes in as well.” She took her hand and squeezed lightly. “You are safe here, Corinne.”
Corinne’s lashes drooped to her cheeks, and Lorelei lay the girl’s hand at her side. Here in Kimpton, at least, Lorelei could give Miss Hollerfield the rest she needed. At the door, Lorelei stopped and glanced back over her shoulder, relieved to see not quite a smile, but less tension in Corinne’s young features. Would a man even consider a courtesan’s child? No matter. Lorelei would help this girl in any way possible. No one deserved what she’d been handed.
Lorelei drew a palm over her eyes. Her stomach lurched. There would be no easy way to tell the girl her mother was dead.
Silence filled the chamber, and Corinne seemed to have drifted into as oblivious a slumber as her infant son.
Then her eyes flickered and opened. “Might I have some water?”
Lorelei rose and went to the bedside table. She tipped a small amount of laudanum from its brown bottle into the glass and added a measure of water. She put the glass to Corinne’s lips. “Sip slowly, Corinne. We… we must talk. It’s regarding your mother.”
Corinne swallowed, and Lorelei gripped the glass. Corinne looked up with tired, weary eyes. “My mother is dead.”
“Yes, dear,” she whispered. “She is. I’m so sorry.” What else was there to say?
Lorelei set the glass on the table and gripped Corinne’s hand. She sat with Corinne until she was certain Corinne was indeed sleeping soundly.
After a long while, Lorelei escaped the confines of the chamber and leaned against the wall in the corridor, her eyes burning. A heavy weight pressed her shoulders, constricted her chest, as she considered the tasks ahead.
She brushed away a few minute tears and pulled herself up. Whatever reason Rowena Hollerfield had for hiding her child away mattered naught. Lorelei would assist the girl, and if the child did happen to be her nephew, then—
The clock in the foyer bonged, rousing her from her thoughts. Good heavens, ten o’clock. She’d forgotten Ginny’s girls, hadn’t even checked in on them. Lorelei strode to a flight of stairs that led to the nursery, determined to reassure herself they were well. Surely they were sleeping as soundly as Corinne by now.
A light flickered beneath the door, and Lorelei turned the knob quietly. Peg’s head rested on the back of the chair and her mouth was open, emitting a small snore. Lorelei looked over at the bed.
Irene sat up. “Lady Kimpton?”
“Yes, Irene, it’s me,” she said softly. “Is Cecilia sleeping?”
“Yes, my lady.” Irene sighed. A sigh that seemed much too old for her eight years. “She could sleep through a London street brawl…”
Quiet filled the chamber, and Lorelei moved across the room and lowered herself to the edge of the bed. “What is it, dear? Are you afraid?”
“No, but—”
“Yes?”
“I was wondering if you knew when my mother was coming.”
Lorelei swallowed and braced herself for her second fabrication in a day. “A few days perhaps.”
“Are you certain it will only be a few days? She was hurt badly, you know.” Again, the notion hit her that Irene was too young to be so old.
Lorelei reached for her hand. “I can’t promise, of course. But the moment I hear a single thing, I will tell you what I know. Will that help you sleep?”
Irene nodded. She opened her mouth but then snapped it shut.
“Irene, was there something else? You can ask me anything. I shall do my utmost to be truthful with you.”
Large eyes assessed Lorelei. She waited.
