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“Yes, the nurse requires small beer and a cup of water.”
“Yes, my Lady,” Mr Foote said, and walked to the kitchen.
“I don’t mean to intrude,” Jane said, intruding, “But I may be with child myself, and so I may be in need of your services. When will you be available?”
“Depends how far along you are,” the nurse said, looking Jane up and down, “Can’t be too far gone yet, you’re not showing at all.”
Jane placed her hand to her belly, “No, not yet.”
“I meant up there,” the nurse said, pointing her chin towards Jane’s breasts. “In my experience they’re first to show.”
“Oh!” Heat tore through Jane.
The maid arrived with the small beer and cup of water.
Mr Foote followed. “Is there anything else you need, my Lady?”
The way he said it sent the most unusual… things… curling through Jane. Most unusual!
“Not for now,” she said. She nearly added a ‘thank you’ and remembered to maintain her distance from the staff. Being overly familiar would raise suspicion, even with the nurse.
The nurse drank the beer while the babe suckled. Then she removed her cap to wipe her mouth. Tendrils of stunning titian hair broke free.
“Thirsty work,” she said, her focus on the babe and not Jane. “Oh no you don’t, no sleeping on the job my little lord,” she admonished, giving the babe a gentle prod on the shoulder. The babe lost suction and fell off the breast. The nurse tucked herself in and shifted the babe to the other side. Then she dunked a fold of her cap in the cup of water, pushed the babe’s cap off his head and bathed his temples. Blowing across his head woke him from his milk-drunk-slumber, and he resumed feeding.
Jolts of shock tore through Jane. Pushing the cap off the babe’s head had revealed his soft, downy hair. It was the same russet tone as the nurse’s.
“He’s a lazy one, he is,” the nurse said as she looked up to Jane. Then she laughed and wiped the babe’s head again with the damp cap. It only served to emphasise his ginger colouring. “I’m waking you up, little lord, and I will keep you awake until you’re properly fed.”
“That’s a clever trick,” Jane said, for want of anything better to say. “I’ll leave you to your meal, little Lord.” Jane said, giving the nurse a smile which she hoped did not betray her sudden delight.
Careful not to run, Jane climbed the stairs to the Baron’s rooms, where she found Mister Foote refilling bowls of pungent herbs to cloak the smell.
Jane closed the door behind and whispered, “Mister Foote! I have news of a most exciting development!”
The footman turned and delivered a welcoming smile her way. Sparks of excitement shot through her. Jane seized his hands in joy as she blurted, “The Jardine babe is not Epiphany’s. Is that not the most wonderful thing?”
Mister Foote’s face creased with joy, “He’s not?”
“He cannot be.” Jane grabbed his hands and held them in hers. “I saw it with my own eyes moments ago. After you left, the babe was getting fussy, so the nurse dabbed water on his head to make him calm… or something. I cannot be sure why she did it, but that’s not the important thing right now. The important thing is I saw that the babe’s head was covered in bright ginger curls! None of the girls have that colouring, and neither do Lord and Lady Jardine. But guess who does?”
Mr Foote opened his mouth and closed it again in both shock and wonder, “Oh, this is truly wondrous. Allow me to suggest it is the nurse herself who has such locks?”
“My dear Mister Foote, she has the very same tresses!” She threw herself into his arms and squeezed him with delight. Then she let go and bounced up and down on the spot, then stopped as she realised that she’d grabbed the servant. “I am terribly sorry for leaping upon you in this moment of excitement.”
Mister Foote stepped forward and reached for Jane’s hand. She gave it willingly.
He then lifted her bodily and twirled her in the air, “I am delighted and relieved! I confess I had secretly begun to pack my things in order to flee at a moment’s notice, should Lady Jardine cast us out.”
“She has already beribboned every piece of silverware.” Jane said as she regained her balance from the twirl. “Oh Mister Foote, the relief I feel is utterly palpable!”
She grabbed his face in her palms and kissed him squarely on the mouth.
Suddenly, she pulled back.
“Oh dear, I appear to have gone too far in my enthusiasm.”
His face pinked in surprise, “You may go as far as you like, my Lady.”
