3. Madness in the Blood
Hiring a wetnurse had been an interview left to the earl. Something he would have felt deadly afraid of doing were it not for his apathy toward breasts. Yet every woman who he interviewed seemed uncomfortable that it was a man who rushed these questions out. Bri had written the questions on the back of a calling card, in the tiniest finest print Orion had ever seen.
To hell if he could read it.
“You should not corn…” he spoke to one of the women in a calm voice, hiding the fact that he was reading off of this card religiously.
“Corn?” the young woman bit her lip.
Where was her child? If she was producing milk then surely the baby should be near her. Orion did not know, nor did he understand the instruction that his wife had written out.
“I am not sure I understand your meaning, my lord.”
Orion laughed suddenly, covering his face.
Shame and guilt flowered in his stomach.
Fantastic. Now I’ve scared this one off.
The laugh had been so sudden and manic that the woman stiffened in her chair. He shook his head. “I apologize. It is my wife’s handwriting. I am unsure what it means myself.”
He gambled to show the woman the back of the card. She leaned forward in a stiff and demur way.
“Scorn…” she read off. “I believe she means ‘scold.’ As in, don’t fuss the baby…”
Orion blinked at the young woman and then nodded, his demeanor smoothed into the cold and stoic front he usually wore for strangers. “Quite. Don’t do that. That is a no in her book. It is a no in mine too but…I’m a man. I will not tell a woman how to raise her children. Though, if you scolded the child, you would most likely be fired. What was your name again?” he stopped himself from rambling.
His thoughts were speeding to the point of being useless, his eyes circled darkly by his fatigue. That fatigue that would not relieve itself by letting him rest.
“I do not believe in punishing babies, my lord…” the tough young woman replied.
Orion offered a sincere smile. “That is good. There is really no need for that. Life becomes hard the moment we are conscience of our actions.”
The woman nodded in a way that told Orion the tables had turned. Now she was inspecting him.
She knows! She knows I am mad and now she will spread that rumor all about town. The mad earl’s son is his father’s boy for sure!
“You’ve done very well, dear. Next!” he announced with his baritone.
He fixed his invisible shield as best he could. He needed that cold front. It was a necessary weapon on days like these. Bri was counting on him to find a suitable woman to nurse their child. What could be more important? Already little Drusilla had confined Bri to the nursery.
A sad older woman stepped into the room after the nervous girl, who seemed to literally run away from the strange earl.
“Good morning,” she spoke with a soft voice.
The voice was important to Orion. He noted it as a positive. She was gentle and had an air of sadness about her that he had yet to see in the other women.
“Good morning,” he greeted with a nod. “What is your name, miss?”
“Julia. Julia Frost.”
He noted with mild interest that she was surely lactating. Her breasts were swollen to a point of looking painful. Orion made a physical effort not to mention something so inappropriate. But how was that so inappropriate? She was interviewing to be a wetnurse. Her breast milk was the most important part, was it not?
“Lord Hookwell, Miss Julia. It is a pleasure. You have lovely eyes,” he told her in truth.
They were tired eyes but they shined with life. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Hm, well. I have my wife’s notes here. I will be perfectly honest…I think I have frightened the last few women. I know this is inappropriate. A man interviewing for a wetnurse but my wife is ill. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Not at all, my lord. I expected many.”
“Good. My wife was expecting too,” he let out a light laugh, somehow stopping it before it swelled into madness.
To his surprise Julia laughed. “Puns. Very good.”
“Hm, well,” he cleared his throat. “We try. Where is your little one?”
Orion wrote on the card of her gentleness and of her experience in being a mother. She had two children and was around Brigid’s age.
Following Julia’s departure, the butler handed him a stack of mail that made his heart race with anxiety. He handed them back to the butler. “Are there any that aren’t bad news right now?”
“Well…let’s see…” the butler cleared his throat and thumbed through. “Ah, here we are.”
Orion took the envelope from the man with shifting eyes.
“This isn’t sarcasm, is it?”
“My lord, I would not be sarcastic with you. I would like to remain alive.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing, my lord.”
When Orion read the swirling handwriting on the envelope he recognized it so quickly that he choked on air.
The butler cleared his throat. “My lord, may I make a suggestion?”
“Confine myself to my room until this passes?”
“Precisely.”
“There are things to do. And this…” Orion shook the envelope. “This is troubling, by the way.”
“The Arteberrys are not lawyers or witch doctors. Nor are they mad-doctors.”
The earl eyed the man down, hurt by the bluntness of his words.
“I am sorry,” the older man apologized. “I only meant they are your friends…”
In the safety on his own room Orion tore the envelope open. A beautiful sketch of a bird began the congratulations letter. It was signed by Lucinda Arteberry, the lovely innkeeper in Dartmoor. To Orion’s surprise it was also signed by her husband Captain Charles Arteberry.
“So we speak again, Charles?” Orion spoke to the sailor who was not there. He put his face in his hands and took a deep breath.
When a hand landed on his shoulder he started.
“Oh! I’m sorry!” Bri’s voice announced her a few seconds too late.
“Brigid!” he raised his voice. “Don’t! Do! That!”
“I’m sorry, muffin. Who is it from?” she peaked over his shoulder.
Her hair was tumbling down free and she was in a nightgown. She showed little care for propriety when it came to being clothed in the house. Something Orion did not mind. However, he did mind being spooked as he had a tendency to jump higher than a startled cat.
“The Arteberrys. It’s from the Arteberrys.”
“Oh and Charles signed it? Good. I suppose he’s not angry at you anymore.”
“Or Lucy put a gun to his head. Probably the latter.”
“Muffin. You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” he snapped.
“Assuming.”
“Brigid, I have a splitting headache.”
Brigid’s eyes narrowed and she stepped back. “Fine. Did you find a good wetnurse?”
“Yes. Her name is Julia. She’s very kind,” he rushed the words, almost stumbling over them.
“What is the matter?”
“I want to die!” he exclaimed, his voice broke into something like a scream.
Brigid grimaced and turned from him, stomping from the room.
“Brigid!” he called out instantly after. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…”
“Sorry? You say that often, Rion,” she snapped back and slammed the door behind her.
Orion set his head on the desk and fought tears.
