Chapter Eighteen #2
Too late. The contraction was upon her. Worse, the woman was a biter.
The pains took her, and she turned into the major’s shoulder, biting down on his coat while he flinched in surprise.
Then her water broke, and the gush of liquid darkened all the way down his leg. Those trousers would never be the same.
“Oh dear,” she sighed, but he did not complain. Instead, he steadily, unerringly climbed the stairs with Janelle above him and the younger girl hovering behind.
Finally, he made it to the top landing, and she helped him gently set the woman on her feet. He was sweating as he did it, but his focus was on keeping everyone steady. “See,” he murmured as he gave the terrified teenager a smile. “You’re here, all right and tight.”
Nothing during labor was ever right and tight, but she let him have that one.
“There now,” Janelle said, pitching her voice into Betty’s soothing tones. “Wot’s your name?”
“I’m Suz, miss,” she said, panting as she fought the pains.
“I’m Harriet,” piped in her friend.
“Hello Suz, Harriet. I’m not a miss, I’m just Betty.
And I’m gonna help get yer babe into yer arms all right and tight.
” They nodded, but both of them canted questioning glances at the major.
“Don’t mind him,” she said. “He’s just the m—an.
” She’d been about to say major, but realized too late that he would want to stay anonymous.
He became the man. At his amused look, she shrugged.
She could have called him Manfred. She knew a cantankerous old bastard by that name, but decided it was too much of a mouthful.
Another pain was coming, so Janelle set to business. She helped get Suz clean and into the chair. The major brought over rags and murmured, “I can get water or I can stay here and help.”
“Water,” she said, not even looking up. There was a lot to do at the beginning, and all her focus needed to be on Suz and the babe.
“Right away.”
Amazing how she could be incredibly busy with her work, and yet still aware of when the major was nearby and when he was tromping up and down the stairs with water.
More than aware, unfortunately, for she saw that he watched everything she did with a steady gaze.
She knew when he was winded carrying two buckets of water (she had no idea where he got the second bucket) and noticed as well that he didn’t flinch from the more gruesome aspects of labor.
He held Suz’s hand when she needed it. He supported her back as she got tired.
He breathed when Suz did and panted when instructed not to push.
In truth, they all matched their breath to Suz, but he did it instinctively with a need to help rather than a wish to be far away from the business at hand.
All in all, an excellent help.
And when the babe finally emerged, he cheered with as much enthusiasm as everyone else. Indeed, he seemed a bit misty-eyed as he watched her cut the cord and pass the squalling boy into Suz’s arms.
“He’s a fine one, he is,” she said as Suz half laughed, half sobbed against her son’s bald head.
“Good set of lungs, I’d say,” he added as he looked on. She thought he was fully absorbed in the sight of mother and child, but he also passed her a fresh set of rags as he spoke.
It was exactly what she needed for the afterbirth and Janelle was surprised that he knew what to do. Indeed, she had no idea how he’d gained the information, but they had been working in concert throughout Suz’s labor as if they’d done it a dozen times before.
“You’d make a good nurse,” she said as she prepared for the next bit.
“I’ve been a good nurse,” he responded. “Not my favorite occupation.”
In battle, he meant, and she shuddered to think what he had seen. “I hope this was a better experience.”
“Decidedly so,” he returned. And then he grinned at her.
What a sight that was. There was the dazed, sloppy look in his eyes that all good fathers had, but also pride in what they’d accomplished together.
There wasn’t the usual dominance of a man quietly claiming victory, even in his own mind, but one of shared respect at a job well done.
It touched her, that way he smiled. Even more so when he wiped Suz’s brow without being asked. And how he offered her a drink from his flask.
She opened her mouth to ask, and he answered before she could voice the question. “It’s white soup,” he said. “Nipped from Castlereagh’s table an hour ago. I thought it might be good during a long night.”
Veal stock, cream and almonds? “That’s excellent food for a new mother,” she said as Suz tried to drink it all.
“Easy now,” Janelle said as she eased the flask away. Too much cream could be a problem. “Not much more to do now,” she said, “but I’ll need your help for it.”
The afterbirth came out easily and fully intact. This was a good birth, and Suz was quickly cleaned, but there was nowhere to settle her. No mattress, much less a bed, and the new mother was drooping with fatigue.
“Where do you live?” she asked Harriet, since Suz was three quarters asleep.
The girl’s expression darkened. “It’s not a good place for us, but we’ve nowhere else to go.”
Not a surprise. They had the look of desperate children, now with another child to feed.
“Not to worry,” the major said. “I’ve a name of a priest who will help. Maybe there’s a better trade for you. And help with the babe.” At Janelle’s surprised look, he shrugged. “I knew who to ask. There’s not a lot of help, but there is some.”
“And how will they get there?”
He gestured behind her at a pair of women, both old enough to know how to handle a newborn. “This here is Bess and Ruth. They live downstairs and will help you, too. Come on, Suz. Not much further and you can sleep.”
He waited for Janelle to nod her agreement, then helped the exhausted Suz to her feet.
Harriet already had the child, and together they tromped down the stairs.
Janelle remained behind, cleaning up what remained.
She knew most considered her downright fussy in her needs, but she disliked the scent of blood clinging to her or anything near her.
So she wiped down the beautiful birthing chair and sopped up the mess on the floor.
The major joined her soon afterwards, doing the work with a quiet efficiency.
“Are there more women tonight?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I thought we would try one tonight to be sure my plan worked.”
She arched a brow. “And what do you think?”
They were both on their knees scrubbing the floor like kitchen maids. She’d done it before, but it was a shock to see him so humble. He grew even more so as he dropped his rag into a bucket. “You know this is not the place. I should have asked you—”
“But you wanted to impress me.”
“Yes.”
“As a bribe into a marriage you don’t want me to accept.”
He shrugged, but his expression told her that she had it correct. Now she just needed to figure out why.
“Do you have other plans tonight, Major? Or shall we have a frank discussion now?”
His lips quirked. “I think it’s well past time we spoke.”
“I agree.” Then because he looked so downcast. “You did very well with the birthing chair.”
“Yes,” he said with a grin. “That’s me. The best purveyor of birthing equipment in London. I pride myself on that.”
“I’m sure it will come in handy for your future diplomatic career.”
He chuckled and stretched out his legs on the floor. With his free hand, he pulled over the stool for her. “Sit down, Miss Caddick. This discussion might take a while.”
“Then don’t give me that thing,” she said in mock outrage. “That’s the most uncomfortable stool it’s ever been my misfortune to use.” She pushed the thing aside then came to sit beside him, leaning back against the wall.
“That is not a dignified position. For either of us.”
“It is perfectly acceptable for Betty and—”
“The man?”
“Yes.” Betty and the man. She liked the sound of that. So did he, apparently, as he relaxed beside her.
“You are not going to like this conversation,” he said.
She had guessed that. “I doubt you will either.”
“Probably not, but I am used to difficult conversations.”
“Do you honestly think a midwife has never heard nor spoken hard truths?”
He looked at her, his gaze assessing even as it steadily warmed. “No, I expect you have had your share of uncomfortable words.”
“As have you.”
“Buckets of them.”
She touched the back of his hand, admiring the size and the width of it.
In that single touch, she knew the sinews of his hand, and she remembered the strength in it as he’d lifted Suz.
It was a handsome hand, and no less appealing than the rest of him.
Indeed, settled as he was beside her against the wall of a nearly empty flat, she thought him akin to a knight of yore.
An inexperienced one, at least in birthing matters, but one who was willing to learn.
And that she found most appealing of all.
She felt her heart stir as she looked at him. More than that, her breasts grew heavy, and her belly heated. He was a powerful man, attractive in repose and formidable when he worked. And she was about to have a long, intimate discussion with him about her dreams for birthing quarters.
The idea was exciting, and she couldn’t stop herself from scooting closer to him just to measure his size against hers. Goodness, she felt delicate and feminine here beside him. And he was her rugged and handsome knight errant.
She could hardly wait for what would happen next.