With that, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.
“Alice,” she said, walking toward her friend, with her hands outstretched. “What is the matter? Are you in trouble?”
Alice shook her head. “I’m fine. But there’s someone, or rather, two someones in need of urgent help.”
She motioned to the sofa behind her and, for the first time, Josephine noticed a big basket lying there. She walked towards it, wariness and anticipation slithering down her spine. Lifting the woven top off, she peered inside and gasped.
“Babies!” There were two babies lying in a nest of soft blankets. Their eyes were closed, and they were so still that for an anguished moment she feared… but no. The blanket moved softly with their breathing. They were sleeping.
“Yes,” Alice confirmed. “Twins. A boy and a girl. They were born a few hours ago, but unfortunately, their mother didn’t survive.”
“Oh, dear god.” Josephine brought a hand to her chest. Longing to cradle them in her arms, but afraid to hurt them. “They are so tiny.”
Alice nodded. “I would have taken them to the Lady’s Lair, but I was there yesterday and there was a touch of influenza going around. Several women and many of the children are under the weather. Nothing serious, but as small and defenseless as these babies are, I didn’t want to risk them catching it.”
“You were right in bringing them here. They need a wet nurse urgently,” Josephine said as she ran to the bell and rang for help.
“I didn’t know where else to go. Abigail and Hannah are in the country. And so is Esther.”
Josephine knew why Abigail was in the country—she had just given birth. A boy, she’d written with evident pride. The heir they needed. Josephine was genuinely happy for her, even if a quiet ache stirred beneath the joy. Esther and Elizabeth had gone to stay with her, helping however they could. Hannah wasn’t due for several more months, but Brentworth had taken her away from town as well, eager to care for her through the rest of her pregnancy.
They might have gone to their country estate, like the others, if not for pressing matters in Parliament. Major legislative issues were being discussed, a prorogation had been issued, and Michael was needed in town. Not that it made much difference; it was not like she was, or was likely to be, in a delicate condition. A small pang tugged at her, one she quickly buried. It was becoming easier, this quiet ache. One day, soon, she would hear talk of babies and blessings and feel nothing at all.
The housekeeper entered the room at that moment, and Josephine sprung into action. “Mrs. Pritchard, we need to find a wet nurse, preferably two, as soon as possible. Do you or any of the maids know of anyone? If not, please send a footman to the Servant’s Registry, and another to the Foundling Hospital. We need a wet nurse here within the hour.”
If the housekeeper thought to wonder why Josephine needed a wet nurse, she was too well trained to question it.
“I will enquire immediately, Your Grace.” She bowed and left, her legs carrying her as fast as she could without looking undignified.
With that urgent matter attended, Josephine turned to Alice, who was tucking the blanket around the sleeping babies.
“Thank you for taking them in,” Alice said softly, running a finger along one downy cheek. “I would have taken care of them, but I’m in the middle of a mission. Besides, my life is not conducive to raising a family.”
And yet, it was obvious her friend craved it. There was yearning in her voice and her eyes. A feeling that was all too familiar.
“Forgive me for meddling, but have you thought about maybe retiring from your work? Perhaps marrying and having children of your own?” She didn’t want to pry into her friend’s life, but she didn’t seem satisfied with her current lot. If there was something she could do to repay her all her kindness after Alice helped free her from the harem…
“I’m already married,” Alice said.
Josephine’s eyes must have reflected her shock because she added with a twisted half smile. “But I’m estranged from my husband, so marital bliss and motherhood are unlikely to be in my future.”
Oh, that put a completely different light on her friend’s affairs. “Is your husband cruel? Did he abuse you? Is that why you are estranged?” She was being unbelievably forward, but genuine concern for her friend compelled her.
“Oh no, nothing like that,” Alice rushed to reassure her. “He’s a good man. We married for love and for a while we were blissfully happy together. But then our lives changed, and our paths diverged.”
So much sadness colored her friend’s tone. Josephine reached out her hand. “I’m so sorry Alice. Is there no possibility of reconciliation? It sounds as if you still love him, and you admitted he’s a good man.”
But Alice shook her head. “He’s attempting to divorce me.”
Josephine gasped. Divorce was such a drastic step. Granted only in cases of adultery. She could not believe Alice would do that.
“Are you sure he’s a good man? If he’s slandering you to get his way…”
“No, he truly believes I’ve been unfaithful. It’s not true, of course, but I haven’t tried to correct his assumption. Maybe it’s better that way. I’m not the kind of wife he needs.”
Ah, that Josephine could empathize with. “You undervalue yourself, my friend, and maybe do him a disservice as well. I don’t know what the issue is between the two of you, but it looks as if you once loved each other. Don’t let misunderstandings or feelings of inadequacy destroy that. True love is precious and worth fighting for. I’m telling you from experience. I didn’t believe I was worthy of being Michael’s wife. Thank goodness he convinced me otherwise, because forsaking our love would have been harrowing for both of us.”
“But Michael loves you. Nate hates me.”
