Thomas warmly.
Elizabeth peered past the towering canopy of branches to the rectory garden. There the Bird girl swung from a low branch of a mulberry tree, kicking her legs back and forth in merry abandon. Elizabeth couldn’t see Thomas, but his faint, unceasing cries beckoned to her.
All the worrying over the past hours and the heartache of losing him pooled in her chest and rose in a tight, aching cry that begged for release. She took a step forward.
“I say, where do you think you are going?” Mrs. Grew’s voice and a tight grip on her shoulder stopped her.
Elizabeth swallowed the ache in her throat and turned. “Good Sabbath, Mrs. Grew.”
The woman stood tall and straight. Her ruffled white collar rose out of her bodice and touched her chin in a fashionable style. The rich chestnut color and fine linen of Mrs. Grew’s meeting gown spoke of wealth and prestige. In comparison, Elizabeth’s best meeting clothes, remade from Jane’s, were dingy and faded.
“I asked where you are going.” The woman’s disdainful expression clearly communicated that she had not forgotten Elizabeth’s defiance when she’d brought Lucy to wet-nurse Thomas.
Elizabeth hesitated. Her mind scurried for excuses but finally landed on the truth. “I was on my way to check on the Costin babe. He’s crying—”
“Stay away from him.”
Her mind warned her to acquiesce to someone of Mrs. Grew’s status. But Thomas’s cries called to her as if he were her own baby, her very own flesh and blood.
“He needs attention.” Surely the woman couldn’t fault her for wanting to help. “He’s cried for overlong now and should have attention.”
“He is no longer your concern.”
“I shall make him my concern if no one else does.”
“You no longer have any say in matters regarding that baby—not that you should have had any say in the first place. His care is now in more capable hands and will stay that way.”
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Grew. But it doesn’t appear he’s in anyone’s hands at present.” Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm herself and to keep from saying anything she might regret. “I merely wish to comfort him until Sister Bird is available.”
“You shall do no such thing. It is precisely your meddling and coddling him that has made him so whiny and difficult. You have indulged him these past weeks. And only the good Lord knows what corruption the baby has suffered at the hands of that beggar you pulled from the ditches. It will take much time to undo what you have done.”
“The source of his fussiness has chiefly to do with his lack of nourishment. Loving and nurturing him have only served to sustain him—especially during the times of insufficient feedings.”
Mrs. Grew took a step closer to Elizabeth, her chin high and her eyes cold. “You have asserted yourself far above your status as a poor, unmarried girl.”
Elizabeth wanted to cower, but she squared her shoulders, determined to help Thomas even if she made an enemy of this woman.
“Your work with the baby is terminated.” Mrs. Grew lowered her voice. “If I had my way, you would be done with the Costins altogether. But as it is, you are finished with the baby. Do not go near him again. Do I make myself clear?”
Silence stood between them. Thomas’s cries echoed through Elizabeth’s head.
“I’m truly sorry, Mrs. Grew. I don’t wish to disobey your command. But I can’t do what you ask. My conscience before God will not allow me to stand idly by.”
At that moment Elizabeth caught a glimpse of Mary. Somehow the girl had made her way from the church to the garden and was stumbling through the arch of branches. Her fingers guided her along the wall until she disappeared around the corner.
She didn’t doubt Mary was just as desperate to get to the babe as she was, perhaps more so.
“Excuse me. I must see to Mary—”
Just then Sister Bird stepped past them. She bowed her head in deference to Mrs. Grew.
Elizabeth
Elizabeth peered past the towering canopy of branches to the rectory garden. There the Bird girl swung from a low branch of a mulberry tree, kicking her legs back and forth in merry abandon. Elizabeth couldn’t see Thomas, but his faint, unceasing cries beckoned to her.
All the worrying over the past hours and the heartache of losing him pooled in her chest and rose in a tight, aching cry that begged for release. She took a step forward.
“I say, where do you think you are going?” Mrs. Grew’s voice and a tight grip on her shoulder stopped her.
Elizabeth swallowed the ache in her throat and turned. “Good Sabbath, Mrs. Grew.”
The woman stood tall and straight. Her ruffled white collar rose out of her bodice and touched her chin in a fashionable style. The rich chestnut color and fine linen of Mrs. Grew’s meeting gown spoke of wealth and prestige. In comparison, Elizabeth’s best meeting clothes, remade from Jane’s, were dingy and faded.
“I asked where you are going.” The woman’s disdainful expression clearly communicated that she had not forgotten Elizabeth’s defiance when she’d brought Lucy to wet-nurse Thomas.
Elizabeth hesitated. Her mind scurried for excuses but finally landed on the truth. “I was on my way to check on the Costin babe. He’s crying—”
“Stay away from him.”
Her mind warned her to acquiesce to someone of Mrs. Grew’s status. But Thomas’s cries called to her as if he were her own baby, her very own flesh and blood.
“He needs attention.” Surely the woman couldn’t fault her for wanting to help. “He’s cried for overlong now and should have attention.”
“He is no longer your concern.”
“I shall make him my concern if no one else does.”
“You no longer have any say in matters regarding that baby—not that you should have had any say in the first place. His care is now in more capable hands and will stay that way.”
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Grew. But it doesn’t appear he’s in anyone’s hands at present.” Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm herself and to keep from saying anything she might regret. “I merely wish to comfort him until Sister Bird is available.”
“You shall do no such thing. It is precisely your meddling and coddling him that has made him so whiny and difficult. You have indulged him these past weeks. And only the good Lord knows what corruption the baby has suffered at the hands of that beggar you pulled from the ditches. It will take much time to undo what you have done.”
“The source of his fussiness has chiefly to do with his lack of nourishment. Loving and nurturing him have only served to sustain him—especially during the times of insufficient feedings.”
Mrs. Grew took a step closer to Elizabeth, her chin high and her eyes cold. “You have asserted yourself far above your status as a poor, unmarried girl.”
Elizabeth wanted to cower, but she squared her shoulders, determined to help Thomas even if she made an enemy of this woman.
“Your work with the baby is terminated.” Mrs. Grew lowered her voice. “If I had my way, you would be done with the Costins altogether. But as it is, you are finished with the baby. Do not go near him again. Do I make myself clear?”
Silence stood between them. Thomas’s cries echoed through Elizabeth’s head.
“I’m truly sorry, Mrs. Grew. I don’t wish to disobey your command. But I can’t do what you ask. My conscience before God will not allow me to stand idly by.”
At that moment Elizabeth caught a glimpse of Mary. Somehow the girl had made her way from the church to the garden and was stumbling through the arch of branches. Her fingers guided her along the wall until she disappeared around the corner.
She didn’t doubt Mary was just as desperate to get to the babe as she was, perhaps more so.
“Excuse me. I must see to Mary—”
Just then Sister Bird stepped past them. She bowed her head in deference to Mrs. Grew.
Elizabeth
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