“Jane was grief stricken because she’d just lost her own baby. When she arrived at the inn, I asked if she’d look out for your little one till the angels came for her. That you wanted her named Caitlin and since it was an emergency situation with the blizzard and the infant’s life so precarious, Jane could perform a lay baptism. Jane cradled the baby in her arms and swore she would take care of her. She was covered in snow from the walk to the inn, and she used melted snow from her cloak to perform the baptism immediately.”
“I hoped Caitlin had been baptized,” Kendra said tremulously.
“She returned to her home and dedicated herself to nursing the babe into life.” Mrs. Lowell smiled reminiscently. “Jane is deeply loving and she was determined to save your little girl. Your child is as tenacious as you are, Lady Denshire. I didn’t think either of you would survive, but you did. A pair of miracles and no mistake.”
“So you let Jane just keep my child?” Kendra said, aghast.
Mrs. Lowell nodded. “I didn’t know that Katie had survived until weeks later. When your life was no longer threatened and you were on your way to recovery, I went home so exhausted that I slept for days. The weather was foul and it was after Christmas before I saw Jane and found the baby was alive and doing well. Jane called her Katie and later had a church baptism here in Great Dauntrey, naming the baby Catherine Potter and listing herself as the mother.”
Kendra bit her lip. “You made no attempt to find me?”
Mrs. Lowell’s eyes narrowed. “You and your husband were long gone, and I didn’t know how to find you. Nor did I want to! You had your sweet little boy to love, and your husband was never going to value a daughter. He didn’t deserve her! Jane did.”
Kendra’s eyes closed and she whispered, “My head understands that, but my heart cries for my lost child.”
“Your coming is timely. Perhaps divine intervention,” Mrs. Lowell said, her expression stark. “Jane is dying, so Katie may need another mother.”
“Consumption?” Lucas asked.
Mrs. Lowell stared at him. “How did you know?”
“I recognized the symptoms. It looks as if your sister’s case is very advanced.”
The midwife sighed. “You’re right. Jane’s husband died of consumption. I thought Jane might not be affected, but then she began to develop the symptoms.”
“What about Caitlin? Katie?” Kendra asked.
“I think she has also been affected,” Mrs. Lowell said with deep regret. “After Jane’s husband died, she was left penniless, and I fixed up this little cottage for her. I wanted Katie to live with me so she’d be less likely to contract the disease, but she refused to leave her mother.” She glanced at Kendra and changed her words to, “To leave Jane.”
Kendra turned an intense gaze on Lucas. “Suzanne said that sometimes you perform miracles, and that you saved Simon’s life. Can you do anything for Jane?”
Mrs. Lowell’s brows furrowed. “Miracles? I’ve seen some recoveries that seemed miraculous, but never from consumption.”
Lucas said reluctantly, “I’ve spent years working as a bonesetter. Sometimes, not often, I’ve also been able to heal with prayer and the laying on of hands. But it’s a very uncertain ability.” He’d tried to save Frère Emmanuel and failed, and that failure haunted him. He’d failed other times, also. Too often. “There are no guarantees.”
“I have had some similar experiences,” Mrs. Lowell said, her brow furrowed. “When I’m worried about a mother or infant, I’ll hold them and pray and whisper words of hope and comfort. I believe that sometimes that healing touch has made the difference. If you have that gift, surely it’s worth trying with Jane! It doesn’t hurt to make the attempt.”
“That’s . . . not entirely true. Whether I succeed or fail, there is always a price.” Lucas drew a deep breath, knowing he could not refuse to help. “But if you wish it and give me permission, I will try.”
“And look at Katie as well,” Kendra said, her voice tight.
He looked at her compassionately, seeing on her face the shock and pain of finding her lost daughter only to risk losing her again. “Of course I will look at Katie.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Mrs. Lowell asked.
“I’ll be resting my hands on Jane’s shoulders. If you two can each lay one hand on me and the other on Jane while praying for her health, that might help.” In a previous critical case, two others had joined him and he believed they’d helped, though it was impossible to be sure. But he was sure that Kendra and Mrs. Lowell would feel better for aiding his efforts.
Mrs. Lowell opened the door to the bedroom and led the way in. Jane was sleeping, her breathing labored, and she clutched a bloodstained handkerchief in one hand. Katie had crawled under the covers and was holding her foster mother as if trying to protect her from eternal night. Silent tears ran down her cheeks from changeable eyes. Gray now, and exactly like Kendra’s.
She tilted her head up and looked at Lucas. “Who are you?” she asked in a thin voice.
“My name is Lucas Mandeville, and we’re going to try to help your mother feel better,” he said gently.
She nodded and closed her eyes, burrowing deeper under the blankets.
Lucas went to the head of the bed and rested his hands on Jane’s thin shoulders. He sensed her spirit fading. If they failed today, she would have very little time left.
Mrs. Lowell moved into the space between Lucas and the wall so she could lay one hand on his shoulder and the other on her sister. Kendra stepped to his other side, her left hand on his arm and the other placed so it rested on both Jane and Katie.
Lucas wasn’t sure if there would be a miracle, but there was no shortage of love here. He closed his eyes and quietly said the Lord’s Prayer aloud. Kendra and Mrs. Lowell joined in as he spoke the familiar words.
Then he sank into that healing space where sometimes he could channel divine energy to help someone who was ill. With your will, oh, Lord. He sensed white light and love flowing through him into Jane, who was fiercely loving and loved. Joining him were the prayers of his two companions. His palms warmed, almost burning as he poured all his concentration and hope into the woman under his hands.
He continued until he felt the divine light fading, along with his strength. He whispered, “Amen,” removing his hands from Jane’s shoulders.
And almost fell over. Kendra grabbed his arm to steady him. “Are you all right?” she asked, worried.
He smiled crookedly. “As I said, there’s always a price, and part of that is my strength. The more serious the illness, the more exhausted I become. Even so, I don’t know if I helped her.”
As Kendra steered him out of the bedroom, Mrs. Lowell straightened the covers over Jane and Katie, then brushed a light kiss on each sleeping head before following the others into the main room. Closing the door behind her, she said in a hushed voice, “That was extraordinary. I could feel the heat from your hands.”
Lucas sank into a chair by the table, shaking with cold and fatigue. “I don’t know if it was enough,” he said wearily, feeling hollowed out, devoid of all strength.
“Jane is breathing easily now and her color is better. You may have given us that miracle.” The midwife sighed. “Even if you didn’t, thank you for giving so much of yourself. I’ll go sit with Jane and Katie.”
After she left the room, something warm settled over his back and shoulders. A knitted knee rug. It was followed by Kendra wrapping her arms around him. Since she was standing and he was sitting, his head ended up resting on her soft breasts. As her hand slid soothingly down his neck and back, his hollow fatigue faded away. He wanted to melt into her and never let her go.
But let her go he must. He pulled back, saying, “Thank you for reviving me.”
She smiled. “Food and drink should help, too. Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please.”
The tea was in a thick pottery crock that had kept it warm. Kendra poured a mug for him a
nd set it between his hands. The liquid soothed his parched throat, helped clear his mind, and gave him some energy.
Tea was followed by a chunk of fresh buttered bread, and he realized that he was hungry. Ravenous, in fact. He murmured a thank-you to Kendra and ate the bread greedily. The bread was followed by a slice of the meat pie.
Feeling halfway human, he straightened in his chair. “When I’m doing simpler work like setting a bone, I’ll sometimes use lesser amounts of healing to try to reduce the pain. But when a life is in the balance and I’m trying so hard . . .” His voice trailed off before he spoke again. “As I said, there is always a price, and the healing is not always successful.”
Kendra sat in the chair next to him and took his hand. “But it is better to try and fail than not to try at all,” she said firmly.
“It was generous of you to want Jane to be healed when your deepest desire must be to sweep Katie up and carry her off with you,” he said quietly.
Her smile was rueful. “Yes, but how can I wish for the death of the woman who saved Caitlin’s life and has raised her ever since? A woman whom Katie loves as her mother. What kind of woman would that make me?”
“It would make you a woman who is much less than you are.”
Embarrassed, she looked away. “Even if I wanted to take her away, where would I take her? I don’t have a real home now, and I’m in the midst of a major scandal that may warp my life forever. Katie is best off here, with people who love her.”
“Surely you will want to be part of her life?”
“Oh, yes!” She looked wistful. “I do so want her to meet her brother. And for Christopher to meet his sister.”
“That will likely happen eventually, but not as soon as you’d like,” he predicted.
The door to the bedroom opened and Katie emerged. She looked like a different child, her eyes bright and her movements confident. She bobbed a curtsy to Lucas. “Mr. Mandeville.” Her gaze moved to Kendra and she said hesitantly, “Lady Denshire?”
“I was once Lady Denshire,” Kendra replied, “but now I’m Kendra Douglas, the name I was born with.”
Katie bobbed her a curtsy as well. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir, ma’am.”
Lucas smiled at her earnest formality. Before he could reply, the cat he’d briefly glimpsed earlier wound itself around Katie’s ankles, then looked up with matching earnestness.
It was the oddest-looking cat he’d ever seen, with wild splotches of black, orange, and white. One front leg was solid black, the other striped orange, the neck was white, and its face was diagonally divided into black and orange. Knowing better than to insult the child’s pet, he said, “That may be the most unusual-looking cat in Britain.”
“Yes, isn’t she pretty?” Katie scooped the cat up in her arms. “My mama says God used all the colors left over from other cats to make her special. I named her Patches.”
“A good name,” Kendra said, wondering if it was mere coincidence that Christopher’s beloved pony had the same name. She offered her fingers to sniff and received a raspy tongue lick in return. “Is she hungry?”
“Yes, and so am I.” Katie spoke clearly, sounding older than her years. She looked at the food on the table. “Maggie usually sends over a sweet cake for me. Did she do that today?”
“Yes, but I think you need some proper food first,” Kendra said, sounding very maternal. “Perhaps a bowl of soup along with some bread and cheese?”
“Oh, yes, please!”
Kendra sliced several pieces of cheese. Katie placed Patches on the floor, then set a sizable piece of the cheese in front of the cat. Patches dived into it enthusiastically while Katie sat in the third chair by the table and began eating soup with equal enthusiasm but better manners.
“You look as if you’re feeling well,” Lucas observed.
“I haven’t felt so well in ages.” She beamed over the soup bowl. “Mama feels better, too. Much better!” She tilted her head to one side. “What did you do to her?”
How could he explain the unexplainable to a child? Trying to be as clear as possible, he said, “Some people have a divine gift of healing. It’s very mysterious and doesn’t always work, but we decided to try with you and your mother, and it appears we may have succeeded.”
“Thank you,” Katie said gravely. She peered into the food basket and found the sweet cakes her cousin Maggie had included for her. Spice cakes by the look of them. She took a happy bite and washed it down with a mouthful of tea.
Her interested gaze moved to Kendra. “Your hair is the same color as mine.”
“Yes, it is.” Kendra pulled a long lock free so Katie could see it clearly. “A dark brown that shines dark red in the light. It’s usually called chestnut.”
Katie pulled a lock of her own hair out and laid it by Kendra’s for comparison. “Almost the same!” she said with pleasure. “But your hair is darker.”
“That’s because I’m older. Yours will darken with age also.” Kendra tucked her hair away again.
“Your eyes are like mine, too,” Katie said, intrigued. “Not one color. Changing from blue to gray to a kind of green.”
“There’s a reason for that.” Lucas could hear the tension in Kendra’s voice.
“Oh?” Katie said, interested in knowing more.
Kendra drew a deep breath. “Did you know that it’s possible to have two mothers?”
“You mean to be born twice?” Katie shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Not to be born twice, but to have two different kinds of mother. One who gives birth, and one who raises you.” Kendra lightly rested her hand on her daughter’s. “You have two mothers, Katie. I am your birth mother. That’s why we look alike. And Jane Potter is the mother who loved and raised you.”
Shocked, Katie pulled her hand free and scooped up Patches, holding the cat against her chest as protection. “No! If you were my mother, why didn’t you keep me? Didn’t you want me?”
A tremor in her voice, Kendra said, “I was very, very ill. I almost died and didn’t even remember that you’d been born. You were so tiny and frail that no one thought you would survive. Your aunt Mary gave you to her sister, who saved your life and has been your mother ever since. You and I were both very lucky.”
Katie scowled. “How could you forget you had a baby?”
“Because I had two babies. You have a twin brother.” Kendra showed a ghost of a smile. “He looks like both of us. The same hair, the same eyes. Because I had him to love and care for, when I recovered from nearly dying, I’d forgotten that I’d borne a daughter, too. Then a few days ago I held a baby girl who looks a bit like you, and I suddenly remembered what I had lost. So I came looking for you.”
Picking out what interested her most, Katie said, “I have a brother?”
“Yes, his name is Christopher. He’ll love to learn that he has a sister.”
Mrs. Lowell emerged from the bedroom. “Katie, your mother wants to see you.”
Grateful for a reason to escape from all this new information, Katie scrambled from her chair and disappeared into the bedroom with Patches draped over her shoulder. The cat’s black and orange face studied Kendra quizzically before the door closed, separating them.
Frowning, Mrs. Lowell said, “You shouldn’t have told her you were her mother.”
“She had to know sooner or later. She started the discussion by commenting on the fact that we have the same color hair and eyes.” Kendra caught the other woman’s gaze. “I’m not going to carry her away from everything she knows. This is her home and you are her family. But so am I. I want to be part of her life. I want her to meet her brother. I want her to have the life she deserves.”
“We’re not good enough for her?” Mrs. Lowell’s gaze was challenging.
“You and your family are the best thing that could have happened to an abandoned child,” Kendra said quietly. “But your sister’s circumstances were difficult even before she became ill. I want to settle an income on Ka
tie, enough to provide her and your sister a good home. I pray they are both healthy now. Do you think they are?”
The midwife’s tension eased. “I believe so. Jane is tired but I see no signs of illness.” She brushed her hand over her face, briefly covering her eyes. “I don’t mean to be difficult. Today has been too much for me.”
“It’s been too much for all of us,” Lucas said as he rose to his feet. “Kendra, we need to find an inn for the night. We can return in the morning and have all the discussions that are too overwhelming for tonight.”
She turned to him gratefully. “You’re right. Would you mind going to the Red Lion? It’s not far, and I’m curious to find out if it will seem familiar.”
“You could stay here,” Mrs. Lowell said uncertainly.
“That’s kind of you,” Lucas said, “but you don’t need the extra burden of guests who are virtual strangers.”
“Strangers who are also family,” Mrs. Lowell said wryly. “But it will be easier if you stay elsewhere. I look forward to seeing you in the morning after we’ve had time to sort ourselves out.”
Kendra couldn’t agree more.
CHAPTER 18
It was a relief to get into the carriage for the return to Lower Dauntrey. When Lucas climbed in after Kendra, he moved to take the opposing seat, but she caught his hand and pulled him down beside her. “I think we can both use some mutual handholding,” she said with a weary smile. “How are you feeling?”
He exhaled roughly. “Drained. I’ll be fine tomorrow, but attempting a major healing as we did today leaves me feeling as if a regiment of cavalry has galloped over me. What about you? Today has been shocking even though the news is miraculously good.”
“I never once considered that my daughter might have survived.” Fighting tears, Kendra pressed her free hand to her lower face as she whispered disjointedly, “Even now I have trouble believing it’s true.”
He released her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “But there’s no doubt. She’s the very image of you.”
“And the image of Christopher.” She bit her lip at the thought of her son, then continued, “The most I hoped for was obtaining some kind of certainty about the past, and the chance to say good-bye to my Caitlin. But reality turns out to be so much more complicated. She’s my miracle child—yet I can’t take her home with me.”
Once Dishonored Page 12