her mouth to offer to buy coal, Flora shrugged. “I’ll go mudlarking an’ see if I kin find some on th’ banks.”
“Wet coal won’t burn,” Jocelyn protested, aghast at the idea of a child scavenging the filthy Thames for coal.
“No, it won’t,” Katie said, “but maybe we can trade it to someone for some dry coal.”
Flora let out a contented sigh, rubbed her tummy, and heaved herself out of her seat as if she were an aged woman. “Me tummy feels good.” She offered Jocelyn a shy smile. “I’ll get th’ coal.”
Katie stood and picked up two bundles of clothing. “I’ll go with you, and make these deliveries. Excuse me, miss?”
“Of course,” Jocelyn said.
Katie and Flora left together. Jocelyn turned back to little Mary who lay next to her mother blinking as if she could hardly keep her eyes open. Lucy sat stroking her child’s hair and munching on bread and cheese. All that remained of the apple was the core.
Jocelyn smiled at the sight. With proper nourishment, and the right herbs in time, Lucy might produce milk for her baby. If not, Jocelyn would see about hiring a wet nurse.
The girl who’d nursed the baby stood and handed him to his mother. A calmer Lucy took him and rubbed his fuzzy head. The baby nuzzled against her, his mouth making little sucking motions in sleep.
Jocelyn turned to the temporary wet nurse and pressed all the rest of her coins into her hand, leaving nothing with which to pay for her return trip home. If the driver would agree to wait outside her house, she could go inside, get some more money, and pay him then. Or she could walk.
As the young woman gaped at the bounty in her hands, Jocelyn asked, “Will you come back again in a few hours?”
The girl agreed. When she left, Jocelyn crouched next to Lucy’s bed. “Go ahead and let him suckle you even if he isn’t truly hungry. It might help your milk return.”
“As you wish.” Her tone resigned, Lucy did as Jocelyn directed.
There was much to do here. Jocelyn rolled up her sleeves and cleaned the room within an inch of its life.
Katie returned and stood open mouthed. “Oi, miss. You’ve been busy.”
Jocelyn smiled, tired but content. “I don’t hire you to clean the parlor because I’m helpless.”
Katie smiled with the kind of indulgence one might give a defiant child. “No, miss. Here.” She held out a battered tin cup filled with steaming water.
Jocelyn crumbled in the herbs to make a strong tea. A few minutes later, she handed it to Lucy and made sure she drank it, as well as made arrangements to ensure that Lucy would have several cups a day.
Aware of the passage of time, and satisfied she’d done all she could for now, Jocelyn took up her hat and pelisse. “I should return home. Papa and I have an appointment.”
“Yes, miss.” Katie also donned a bonnet and a pelisse, a style of at least five years ago but of high quality.
Jocelyn knelt by Lucy. “I’m so happy to have met you, Lucy. Thank you for allowing me to visit.”
Lucy made a strangled noise. “Don’t know why ye bothered, but fer what it’s worth, I thank ye.”
“You are most welcome. I’ll visit again soon. Keep drinking that tea and plenty of water, and suckle the baby even if you get nothing out—your milk should return.”
As they wound through the alleys, Jocelyn said, “Katie, I want you to make sure Lucy drinks the tea, and if her milk doesn’t return, tell me so we can hire a wet nurse for her baby.”
Katie bowed her head. “Yes, miss.”
Jocelyn turned over the problem of Lucy and her children. How could she help them best? Her stomach hadn’t stopped tying itself into knots at their desperate poverty. Besides, Katie surely deserved a little help with her family after all her faithful years of service, as her mother had served for years before her. No human should have to endure those atrocious living conditions.
An idea struck her. “When my father and I return to our country home, do you
“Wet coal won’t burn,” Jocelyn protested, aghast at the idea of a child scavenging the filthy Thames for coal.
“No, it won’t,” Katie said, “but maybe we can trade it to someone for some dry coal.”
Flora let out a contented sigh, rubbed her tummy, and heaved herself out of her seat as if she were an aged woman. “Me tummy feels good.” She offered Jocelyn a shy smile. “I’ll get th’ coal.”
Katie stood and picked up two bundles of clothing. “I’ll go with you, and make these deliveries. Excuse me, miss?”
“Of course,” Jocelyn said.
Katie and Flora left together. Jocelyn turned back to little Mary who lay next to her mother blinking as if she could hardly keep her eyes open. Lucy sat stroking her child’s hair and munching on bread and cheese. All that remained of the apple was the core.
Jocelyn smiled at the sight. With proper nourishment, and the right herbs in time, Lucy might produce milk for her baby. If not, Jocelyn would see about hiring a wet nurse.
The girl who’d nursed the baby stood and handed him to his mother. A calmer Lucy took him and rubbed his fuzzy head. The baby nuzzled against her, his mouth making little sucking motions in sleep.
Jocelyn turned to the temporary wet nurse and pressed all the rest of her coins into her hand, leaving nothing with which to pay for her return trip home. If the driver would agree to wait outside her house, she could go inside, get some more money, and pay him then. Or she could walk.
As the young woman gaped at the bounty in her hands, Jocelyn asked, “Will you come back again in a few hours?”
The girl agreed. When she left, Jocelyn crouched next to Lucy’s bed. “Go ahead and let him suckle you even if he isn’t truly hungry. It might help your milk return.”
“As you wish.” Her tone resigned, Lucy did as Jocelyn directed.
There was much to do here. Jocelyn rolled up her sleeves and cleaned the room within an inch of its life.
Katie returned and stood open mouthed. “Oi, miss. You’ve been busy.”
Jocelyn smiled, tired but content. “I don’t hire you to clean the parlor because I’m helpless.”
Katie smiled with the kind of indulgence one might give a defiant child. “No, miss. Here.” She held out a battered tin cup filled with steaming water.
Jocelyn crumbled in the herbs to make a strong tea. A few minutes later, she handed it to Lucy and made sure she drank it, as well as made arrangements to ensure that Lucy would have several cups a day.
Aware of the passage of time, and satisfied she’d done all she could for now, Jocelyn took up her hat and pelisse. “I should return home. Papa and I have an appointment.”
“Yes, miss.” Katie also donned a bonnet and a pelisse, a style of at least five years ago but of high quality.
Jocelyn knelt by Lucy. “I’m so happy to have met you, Lucy. Thank you for allowing me to visit.”
Lucy made a strangled noise. “Don’t know why ye bothered, but fer what it’s worth, I thank ye.”
“You are most welcome. I’ll visit again soon. Keep drinking that tea and plenty of water, and suckle the baby even if you get nothing out—your milk should return.”
As they wound through the alleys, Jocelyn said, “Katie, I want you to make sure Lucy drinks the tea, and if her milk doesn’t return, tell me so we can hire a wet nurse for her baby.”
Katie bowed her head. “Yes, miss.”
Jocelyn turned over the problem of Lucy and her children. How could she help them best? Her stomach hadn’t stopped tying itself into knots at their desperate poverty. Besides, Katie surely deserved a little help with her family after all her faithful years of service, as her mother had served for years before her. No human should have to endure those atrocious living conditions.
An idea struck her. “When my father and I return to our country home, do you
Similar Books
