Page 12 of A Winter Scandal

“Oh, aye. There’s that big basket I carry the laundry in. It’s long and deep. We can put a pillow in it, and he’ll be snug as a wee bunny.”

“That’s perfect.”

“And I’ve got a little bit of oatmeal left over from breakfast. We’ll add some milk, and that’ll fill him up. I’ll get that basket.” The housekeeper bustled out of the room.

Daniel turned back to his sister in some exasperation. “Thea, have some sense! You cannot simply keep a child as though it were a stray dog or cat.”

“Of course not. But we cannot turn him away, either.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that. We should take him to the foundling home in Cheltenham.” He nodded, pleased with the solution.

“The foundling home!” An icy fist closed around Thea’s heart. “Daniel, no.”

“But that is where he belongs, surely. He’s been abandoned—an orphan or a child whose mother cannot take care of him or, well, I don’t know what, but it’s clear that he is a foundling.”

“But we cannot abandon him, too.”

“Thea.” Daniel’s face fell into puzzled lines. “I don’t understand. You cannot mean that you and I would—would raise him?”

“I—well, I had not thought that far ahead. I suppose we cannot.”

“There. You see?”

“But there’s no need to rush to take him to the foundling home, either. I am sure you have no desire to drive our pony trap in the cold all the way to Cheltenham.” Thea knew her brother well enough to know that such an argument would strike home with him.

“Well, no, but …”

“It may be that someone around here knows who he is, or to whom he belongs. We shall ask around, and Mrs. Brewster can ask, as well. Perhaps there is someone else in his family who will care for him. Or his mother might have second thoughts and return to get him. Maybe … maybe he was even stolen from his home. He looks quite well cared for, and his garments are nice. You see?” She brought the baby closer.

Daniel backed up a step. “Yes, well, if he was abducted, why was he left in the church?”

“I don’t know. They might have gotten frightened or felt remorseful. It doesn’t really matter. The point is that someone might turn up here looking for him soon. And then the whole problem would be solved.”

“Yes, but what about in the meantime?”

“We shall take care of him—Mrs. Brewster and l. You needn’t worry yourself about it. You will hardly know he is here.”

Daniel looked doubtful, but he was a man accustomed to letting his sister take charge of things, and he said, “All right … if you really wish it. Though I don’t understand …”

“I’m not sure I do, either,” Thea murmured, but she was careful to wait until after her brother had headed back to his study.

By the time Mrs. Brewster returned, the baby had started to fuss, wriggling and squirming and sticking his tiny fist in his mouth. Thea tried patting him, then jiggling, but he screwed up his face and let out a plaintive wail.

“What’s the matter with him?” Thea asked, anxiety rising in her. If he cried a great deal, Daniel might decide it was worth it to drive to the foundling home, even in the cold weather.

“Why, the wee mite’s getting hungry, I’ll warrant.” Mrs. Brewster bent over him. “Look at him, trying to eat his own hand. I’ll dish up some of that oatmeal right now.”

Thea walked around the kitchen, jiggling the baby and distracting him by showing him various objects while Mrs. Brewster warmed up the oatmeal and thinned it with milk.

“We need to call him something, don’t you think?” Thea mused. “I was thinking Matthew. It means ‘gift of God.’ That seems a proper name for someone found in a church.”

“Oh, aye, miss.” Mrs. Brewster cast a glance at Thea and smiled a little. “’Tis a fine name.”

“What about you?” Thea asked the baby, leaning her forehead against his. “Are you a Matthew?” She had thought more than once before that people said the silliest things to babies. But holding him now, she found herself wanting to do the same. She wanted, she realized, to see that joyous smile again.

“Here we go. Shall I feed him, miss?” Mrs. Brewster set down the bowl and held out her hands for the baby.

Thea felt curiously reluctant to hand him over, but she did so. The housekeeper, after all, was far more familiar with this sort of thing than she was. Thea watched as Mrs. Brewster sat the baby on her lap and curved one arm around him, then popped a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. Matthew’s fussing stopped immediately, and he eagerly took a second bite. Thea ate a light luncheon of cheese and bread while the housekeeper fed the baby, then she went up to her room to get a pillow and bedding for the basket.