A Rose for Laura by Callie Hutton

12

Although completely taken by surprise, it wasn't long before Keniel responded to Laura's spontaneous and enthusiastic kiss. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. He moved his hand up to tilt her head, taking the kiss deeper as he plunged into her mouth, tasting the sweetness that was her.

His lips left hers to nibble on her earlobe. A slight moan of approval from her urged him to sprinkle kisses on the soft skin under her ear. His lips continued to explore her warmth as Laura moved her head to the side to gain him better access.

Fortunately, he reminded himself that they were riding in a carriage that would not take long to arrive at her house. But until then. . .

Laura pulled back and studied him wide-eyed. "I think I was somewhat overtaken with joy." She pressed against his hands at her back and, reluctantly, he let her go. She returned to her seat and took a deep breath.

"Anytime you wish to express joy and thankfulness in such a manner, please feel free to do so." Adding a touch of humor might set things to right and allow her to regain her dignity as he shifted in his seat attempting to do the same.

"You must think me a wanton."

He shook his head. "Not at all. Please don’t feel bad about your delight in receiving Hereford's sponsorship. I know how much you worry over the orphans."

"I do worry. I try not to think of what we would do if our sponsorships dried up. They need food, clothing, medicine on occasion, and even a few toys to help them learn and grow."

Now that things had settled down in the carriage and they both seemed to be recovered, he asked, "And you seem to think that more will arrive in the future?"

"Without a doubt. Too many women either can't provide for their youngsters or simply don't care."

"I realize not everyone is blessed with the resources to live a full life, but to be forced to surrender a child must be devastating."

"Yes, it is, and I'm afraid it happens too much." She shook her head, tears rimming her eyes. "There are so many children with no one to take care of them. Little ones who are wandering the streets, eating garbage and sleeping in doorways. As evil as it sounds, those who are rescued by men who train them to be pickpockets or mudlarks at least get food on a semi-regular basis." One lone tear made it slowly down her smooth ivory cheeks.

Mercifully the carriage came to a stop since Keniel could not abide women's tears. Like most men he had no idea what to do. Men were designed to be 'fixers'. Give him a problem and he would do his best to resolve it. But tears? He shivered just thinking on having to watch Laura cry.

However, she dashed her hand over her cheeks and offered a bright smile. Noting his concern, she said, "I'm fine. Truly."

The driver was faster than him and had the door opened and the carriage steps down before Keniel moved. He left the carriage and turned to help Laura. They made their way up the townhouse steps, the front door opening before they reached the top.

"Miss Benson, a note arrived for you. Several hours ago." The butler at the door held out a cream-colored envelope. "The person who dropped it off said it was urgent."

"Oh, dear." She looked over at Keniel.

He took the missive from her hand. "That is stationary from my desk." He handed it back to her. "I shall wait while you read it."

Laura nodded and broke the seal. Her eyes skimmed the paper and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, no."

"What?"

"This is from your housekeeper." She stuffed the envelope into her reticule. "It seems the two caretakers, Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Baker, have both fallen ill."

No caretakers. Ten babies. A limited staff. He grabbed her hand. "We must make haste."

They bounded back down the steps and into the carriage. Once they settled he said, "I don't have a large numbers of employees. Poor Mrs. Evans must be beside herself."

Laura chewed her lower lip. "I just hope the ladies are all right. I also hope whatever ails them is not passed along to the children."

Keniel felt all the blood leave his head. "I hadn't thought of that. Maybe it is merely something they ate."

She nodded, staring out the window. He leaned his head back on the squab and closed his eyes. Hopefully his home would not soon convert from an orphans' home into a hospital.

They didn't speak much during the ride since there really wasn't much to say because they had no idea how sick the caretakers were and what it meant for the care of the babies.

The carriage had barely stopped when Laura opened the door. Keniel covered her hand with his. "Wait. I'll go first or you will fall to your knees."

He jumped out, quickly pulled out the stairs, and helped her down. Together they hurried up the steps to his house and, not waiting for the butler, Keniel opened the door.

To the ear-piercing sound of babies crying.

* * *

Laura hadtwo concerns on her mind as they reached the nursery floor. Firstly, the illness of the caretakers, how serious it was and if it had been passed down to the babies, and secondly, how the invasion of Keniel's home just took a turn for the worse. Would he insist on them all leaving? Perhaps she could persuade Papa to allow them to move into their house, but he would not be as easy to convince as Keniel had been.

She burst into the room to see Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Baker pacing the floor with two screaming babies. Both women's pale faces and drawn looks made them appear as if they were at death's doorstep.

Laura approached Mrs. Johnson. "You do not look well, Mrs. Johnson. I'm not sure you should be holding a baby."

The woman continued to pace. "I have no choice. Mrs. Baker is as ill as I am. Poor Mrs. Evans was here for hours after finishing her work, but we sent her off to bed."

Keniel studied Mrs. Johnson. "What is the matter?"

Mrs. Johnson shrugged. "I am not sure, sir. Mrs. Baker and I took a break this afternoon, when one of your maids offered to sit with the babies who were napping so we could take a turn in the garden. Instead, we took a stroll to the bakery on Milsom Street and had tea and biscuits. Close to an hour after we returned we both began to suffer from a stomach ailment."

"It sounds as though you might have eaten or drank something at the bakery that did not sit well with you," Laura said.

"I'm afraid you are correct. I did think the milk we used in our tea was off. I have never felt so poorly in my life."

On the off-chance that the ladies were not suffering from a food ailment, but something that could be contagious, she took the wailing baby from her arms. "I think since we are not certain what you suffer from, that you and Mrs. Baker should return to your rooms and rest."

Mrs. Baker looked over at her from where she walked with the screaming baby in her arms. "What about the children?"

Laura glanced over at Keniel who appeared somewhat sick himself. She turned back to the two women. "For now I will take over and see if I can send for the other committee members to assist until you are feeling better."

"Are you sure, Miss Benson?"

Of course she wasn’t sure. She was terrified being in charge of ten babies who needed feedings, nappy changes, and cuddling. But there was no one else. She certainly could not impose on Keniel's staff to take over. They had many of their own chores to attend to. In fact, at this point, they were probably asleep—if they could sleep with the racket coming from the nursery.

Keniel cleared his throat and swallowed a few times. "I imagine I can help, as well."

"You!?" all three women said, aghast.

"Yes. I don't see what other choice we have. I can certainly send for temporary employees in the morning if you are still feeling ill. But for now, it appears it is only Miss Benson and me." He flicked his fingers at the two caretakers. "Off with you now."

Laura jiggled the crying baby in her arms. "Are you sure about this?"

"What else is there to be done? At least until morning." He looked around the room. "Shouldn't they all be sleeping right now?"

"Yes. I would think so." Laura hurried from the room. She caught Mrs. Johnson before she entered her bedchamber. "Mrs. Johnson. I imagine at this time of the night the little ones would be sleeping."

"Yes. Ordinarily that would be so, but Mrs. Baker and I were unable to feed them since we were so sick ourselves. Mrs. Evans was nice enough to take over that chore for us, but I don't think she fed them enough."

"What do they eat?"

"At this time of night I would only give them some porridge. It will fill their little bellies without causing any stomach issues."

Laura never felt so incompetent in her life. "Um, and where is the porridge? And how do I make it edible?"

The poor woman swayed slightly, looking as if she were going to drop right there at her feet. "In the kitchen. Mix some with warm milk and feed it to them. After that give them a bottle of milk."

Laura turned to go back to the nursery when Mrs. Johnson called her. "Also, you will have to change their nappies before you attempt to settle them down for the night."

Change nappies? Good Lord, how did one do that? Rather than prevent the woman from gaining her bed, she said, "Yes. I believe that is so. Have a good sleep now."

She returned to the nursery to find Keniel holding two squalling babies. A quick survey of the room showed three babies sound asleep, despite the noise and confusion. That meant they had seven babies to feed, change and hopefully lull to sleep.

"What do we do now?" Keniel asked over the din.

"According to Mrs. Johnson, we need to feed them porridge, a bottle of warm milk and change their nappies. That should settle them down to sleep."

Keniel shivered. "I will feed them, but I will not change nappies. That I insist upon. That is women's expertise."

Laura frowned. "I am no more familiar with the procedure than you are but based on how far this little venture has pushed you, I will do that duty without grumbling."

She placed the wailing baby in her arms into one of the cribs and picked up another one whose face was so red from crying she was afraid the little one would burst. "I can stay here with the children if you want to make the porridge, or you can stay and I'll make the porridge."

He passed her by as they paced back and forth, attempting to comfort the babies. "Do you know how to make it?"

Laura shook her head, bouncing the baby up and down, which only seemed to make her cry harder. "No."

"Neither do I. I can do a certain amount of cooking since I've been on my own for years, but I've never attempted porridge. Just the sound of it makes my stomach queasy."

She shifted the baby. "What of Mrs. Evans? I'm sure she knows how to make it."

"I believe you've hit on the solution. I'm sure she's asleep by now—"

"—Most likely not, with all this noise."

"True. But I suggest you go to her room and see if you can persuade her to make porridge and warm milk for the babies. Since I am certain she is dressed in her night clothes, I don't think she would appreciate me knocking on her door."

"Will you be all right with them?"

"Again. There really is no choice." If she didn't know better, she would swear Keniel had consumed some unpleasant food, too. He looked ready to run.

"That is a good point." She placed the baby in her crib, not wanting to drag the child all over the house and awaken anyone who was fortunate—and deaf enough—to be asleep. "Where is her room?"

"I'm sure you remember where her office is from when you and the caretakers met with her. Right next to that is her bedchamber. You'll have to go through the office and knock on her door to awaken her."

"Optimistic, aren't you?" She left the room, doubting if Mrs. Evans was asleep. But then, if she wasn't, as a good servant, she would have been up here helping.

And Mrs. Evans was a good employee.

Laura found the housekeeper's office and let out a breath when she found the door unlocked. The room was small, but the desk was neat and clean. Papers were stacked in a well-ordered manner on the polished surface. Two pens sat in the inkwells, and a small vase of fresh flowers rested on the edge of the desk.

"Mrs. Evans?" Laura tapped lightly on the bedroom door.

Nothing.

She knocked again and called her name.

Nothing.

Finally, she knocked harder and was rewarded with a mumbled shout and the sound of bed springs squeaking. The door slowly opened, and a white mob-capped Mrs. Evans peeked from behind the door. "Miss Benson?"

"Yes, Mrs. Evans, it is me. I am so sorry to awaken you, but I thought with the noise coming from the nursery you would not be sleeping."

"Noise?"

Laura realized the crying and wailing was not as noticeable down here and Mrs. Evans might not have strong hearing. "Yes, I understand you knew the caretakers were ill?"

The poor housekeeper seemed to be trying to wake up and concentrate on what Laura was saying. "Yes. Stomach issues I believe."

"That is correct. Well, it appears they are both still suffering, and Mr. Singh and I have taken over the care of the infants until I can find someone else tomorrow if they have not recovered."

"Mr. Singh? And you? Oh, my dear. That is unacceptable. I will dress and come right upstairs and help."

"Actually, Mrs. Evans, if you could make some porridge and warm milk for the babies, the caretakers have assured me that would settle them for the night."

"I will do so immediately, Miss Benson. Just go on up and help Mr. Singh and I will bring it all up to you."

"Thank you so much."

Laura was on her way back up the stairs when she heard Keniel shout. "Laura, where are you?"