Chapter 14 #4
Nicholas chuckled. “Another man who knows nothing of babes. How about you, Amy? Have you any notion how to go on?”
“No. I wish I could hold her, though,” she said wistfully.
Competently, Nicholas gathered up the sleeping child and placed it in her nervous arms. The child hardly stirred.
“She’s beautiful,” said Amy softly. “But Peter’s right. She’s incredibly tiny.”
This pleasant moment was shattered by a crash and a scream. Nicholas, first out the door, found the nursery maid sprawled in the hall wailing. She wailed even louder.
Behind him the baby woke and shrieked. Another maid came running, threw up her hands and wailed in sympathy.
Chaos reigned.
Nicholas looked round helplessly then took control.
“Amy, give the baby to Eleanor. No, Arabel won’t break. Just take care of her head; the rest is rubber. Peter, can you send someone for the doctor? Unless I miss my guess, the girl’s broken her leg.”
He turned to the second maid. “Stop shrieking, girl, or I’ll slap you. Go and help with the baby.”
Arabel was howling with the pure rage of a frightened and offended newborn. Eleanor was frantically trying to calm her and probably making things worse. Amy and the maid stood by, wringing their hands.
Most of the household was on the scene, and he saw the injured nurse, now quieted to moaning, was carefully carried off to a spare bedroom.
Miss Hurstman went with her to help as best she could.
The other servants were then sent back to their business, and peace of a sort was restored—except for one baby squalling in unrelieved panic and rage.
“What’s the matter with her?” Eleanor wailed. “She won’t stop. I don’t know what to do.”
“Nothing serious is the matter,” Nicholas said firmly. “Try to calm down. If you go on this way it’ll dry your milk.” He gave her a hug, but the baby kept on squawling.
Who could ignore that piercing sound?
He grabbed the baby and held her against his shoulder, talking softly into her ear as he walked about. Gradually the shrieking subsided to little hiccups of distress. Then it started up again, blessedly at lower volume.
“I think she’s realized she’s wet and hungry,” Nicholas said. “I don’t know which is most urgent.” He turned to the gaping maid. “Can you change her?”
“Yes, sir,” she said tearfully, bobbing an anxious curtsy. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t want to do anything without permission, sir.”
“Yes, it’s all right,” he soothed. “Just do the necessary and then bring the baby to my wife.”
He shook his head and smiled at Amy, who was looking quite as astonished as the maid. He turned as Francis came back into the nursery. “Why don’t you take Amy downstairs and entertain her and Peter for me?”
“Are you sure Arabel’s all right?” Eleanor demanded.
“Yes. The girl will bring her in a minute.”
“I feel so stupid! Why wouldn’t she quiet for me? I’ve let the nursery maid do everything except feed and cuddle her.” She glared at him resentfully. “How is it you know what to do?”
“It’s part of my story,” he said, but added no more. “I’d better go down and see to our guests. I’ll come back later, if I may.”
“Am I supposed to say you can’t?” Eleanor snapped. “I wish you would stop being so damned reasonable!” To her horror, she broke into tears.
After a moment he came and put comforting arms around her. “Eleanor, I’m just doing my best.”
Through her tears she heard the note of desperation in his voice.
“Everyone seems to think I’m omnipotent,” he added quietly. “I make just as many stupid mistakes as everyone else, and sometimes on a grander scale.”
It was true, she supposed. Even as a schoolboy everyone had expected him to lead them and solve their problems, ease their fears and bolster their confidence. No, even before that. He’d had his brother at his heels since birth.
Was that all she was, another burden? She couldn’t bear it if he had returned to her out of simple duty.
“I’m sorry,” she said and grabbed for her handkerchief. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m turning into a watering pot.”
“You’re a new mother. That’s why I’m not making explanations or forcing you into decisions. You really aren’t up to it yet, my dear.” He kissed her brow gently and took away the support of his arms. Eleanor successfully stifled a protest.
“Just remember,” he said with a tender smile, “there are many people, not least of them myself, who only want your happiness.”
Eleanor thought his parting words sounded like a hollow joke. What happiness? She wanted to be young, virginal, in love, and wooed. Spilt milk indeed.
Later, as Jenny brushed out her hair and helped her to wash, they chatted about the evening’s disaster and how Nicholas had handled things.
“Poor man,” said the maid with a chuckle. “Having to look after the babe with all of you at a loss. He must have been right put out.”
Eleanor thought of it with surprise. He’d seemed in control, but perhaps he had been as upset as the rest of them.
“What a strange group we are,” she remarked. “The only one who knows anything about children is a man, and not the most domesticated man at that.”
“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but I know about babes. I’m the oldest of ten, eight living. Can I help?”
So Jenny became the baby’s nurse until a new one could be hired.