The Preacher's Bride by Jody Hedlund Page A

market this morn and said as much herself.”
    “ ’Twould be very helpful.” Elizabeth’s mind began to spin. She didn’t know Sister Bird well, but perhaps the woman would be willing to come at the times Lucy could not.
    “They had the funeral for the babe last eve.” Sister Norton spoke in hushed tones. “Ah, poor, poor wee one. Healthy one day, gone the next.”
    “They had the poor baby wrapped in a winding sheet and ready for burial before anyone even knew he was dead,” Sister Spencer added.
    Thomas began to squirm, and his face scrunched into the beginning of a cry. Elizabeth reached down and picked him up. “When can Sister Bird come?”
    The two women glanced at each other sideways.
    “ Come , my dear? Did you say come ?” Sister Norton straightened, bumped her head on a branch, and then slumped again. “Ah, Sister Bird cannot come here to wet-nurse. She has five other yonkers to tend. We must take the baby to her.”
    Elizabeth nodded. She could do that. She often took the babe to Lucy. ’Twould make additional work. But if it would help him, then it must be done. “I’ll take him to Sister Bird during the parts of the day that Lucy isn’t able to make it here.”
    “Oh no, no, no,” Sister Spencer said. “Sister Bird made it very clear the beggared woman wasn’t to continue wet-nursing in any way. Already the child has received bad blood and has been exposed to all manners of depravity. Sister Bird doesn’t want any further contamination.”
    “Lucy was only a temporary help. You knew that, my dear,” Sister Norton said more gently. “Now we’ve found permanent arrangements.”
    Elizabeth pressed the tip of her finger into Thomas’s mouth. He latched on and sucked it hungrily, finding from it a small measure of comfort during his constant waiting for nourishment. With her other fingers she caressed his pale cheek. Every day he grew weaker and more listless. Was it just the natural course of never having a full belly? Or was there truly something bad about Lucy’s milk that was hurting the babe?
    “I shall have to dismiss Lucy, then?”
    Sister Spencer nodded. “This is for the best.”
    Elizabeth wasn’t sure if it really was for the best, but it seemed like the most logical way at present to get the babe the milk he needed. “Did Sister Bird say what times of the day she wants me to bring Thomas?”
    “ Tisk. Tisk. I see that we’ve not been very clear, Sister Whitbread,” Sister Spencer said. “We must take the baby to live with Sister Bird.”
    Elizabeth’s gasp echoed Mary’s. “Send the babe away? I can’t do that.”
    Sister Norton’s eyes filled with compassion. “Ah, my dear. I know this is all very difficult. But I’m sure you understand this is the way of things.”
    Elizabeth swallowed her protest. Not many wives could leave their families and responsibilities to wet-nurse, unless it was for the nobility.
    Her chest tightened and an ache formed at the back of her throat. She looked down at Thomas. Even though his tongue and lips were moving, he’d fallen back asleep.
    Despite his fussiness of the past three weeks, she’d grown to love him, and the thought of letting him go into someone else’s care was as unthinkable as sending away her own baby. But even as her arms tightened around him, she knew she would have to let him go.
    “We cannot send Thomas away,” Mary said, as if she had been able to hear the agony clamoring in Elizabeth’s head. “We’ll keep Lucy. She may not be exactly what he needs, but having her is better than sending him away.”
    Elizabeth reached for Mary’s hand and grasped it. Her heart agreed with what Mary said, but her reasoning prevailed. Thomas needed more than he was getting, or he would dwindle away to nothing.
    “Ah, ah, you poor dears.” Sister Norton smiled sadly. “This will be much easier for the baby than for you. He’s young and will adjust to a new home—especially one where his belly is full.”
    “He