Epilogue
Two years later
Blythe knelt before her patient in the birthing chair. “One more push, Mrs Watson.”
“I can’t!” cried the woman.
“Yes, you can. One more push and your baby will be here. Think of holding it in your arms.”
Behind the chair, Gabriel’s mother nodded.
“Oh, it hurts.” Mrs Watson gasped.
“You can do it. Push!”
The soon-to-be-mother bore down and howled. The infant slipped into Blythe’s arms with a hearty cry.
After a quick glance, Blythe set the babe at its mother’s breast. “You have a healthy boy.”
“Oh, he is perfect.” Mrs Watson cried, wrapping her arms around her child.
Mrs Sharpe nodded. “Well done.”
Blythe’s heart sang. Was there any better feeling than helping to bring a new life into the world?
After ensuring all was well with Mrs Watson and her son, Blythe and Mrs Sharpe wandered through the village. Behind the uneven roofs and stubby chimneys, an orange glow spread across the sky.
Mrs Sharpe said, “It can be difficult for first-time mothers, but you were calm, efficient and encouraging.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs Sharpe rubbed Blythe’s belly. “It will not be long before you’re in the birthing chair yourself.”
“It has been over a decade since Violet was born.” Blythe ran a hand over her growing stomach.
“Don’t worry.” Mrs Sharpe wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “All will be well. I will be with you, as will Gabriel.”
They stopped before the old squire’s house, now known as the doctor’s house.
“Get some sleep. We may need to curtail your duties as the babe grows.”
“I will manage. I am no longer a lady of leisure.”
“When it comes to my grandchild, I’ll ensure you get the best care. Now, do as you’re told.”
Blythe adopted an obedient tone. “Yes, ma’am. Goodnight.”
Mrs Sharpe kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, my dear.”
Warmth and light hit Blythe when she stepped inside. A sense of contentment washed over her. Their home.
Mrs Brimble bustled out of the kitchen. “Oh, ma’am, you’re back. Would you care for some tea?”
“Yes, please.”
In the sitting room, Violet frowned at the ledger on her writing desk.
“Should you not be packing for your journey to York tomorrow?”
“I wanted to balance the books for Gabriel before I left.”
“Is there a problem?”
Violet bestowed a knowing glance. “Only that he needs to chase payments from some of his patients, as usual.”
Blythe sighed. “I shall speak to him again.”
Violet closed the ledger. “I should finish packing. Although I have no doubt Grandmama Simmonds will insist I wear whatever she has purchased for me instead.”
“She likes to see you looking your best.”
“There is more to me than being pretty, Mama, and I intend to prove it.” Violet chewed on her lower lip. “Grandmama will not approve, but I have decided to ask Mr Drake to take me to the bank.”
“Violet, I do not—”
“Elijah does not intend to follow in Papa’s footsteps, so why not I? Papa took Elijah to the bank before he was twelve. Why can I not go just because I am a girl? I have shares in the bank too. Why should I not have a say in how the business is run?”
“It will not be easy to convince Mr Drake and the other shareholders to allow you an active role when you are old enough.”
“Which is why I want to learn now, so I will know what to do.” Her lower lip protruded. “If Grandmama does not allow it, then I will refuse to visit her in York again.”
“Violet, that is unkind. Your grandmama only wants the best for you.”
Violet stamped across the room. “You always said you would support me, but it is clear you do not.”
“Violet—”
The door slammed, and heavy footfalls on the staircase thudded through the house.
Blythe plopped into the high-backed chair by the hearth.
Violet faced an arduous task if she wished to follow her dreams, but if anyone could do it, she would wager on her vivacious daughter.
If only the world would recognise that Violet Simmonds had an excellent head for business and allow her to make use of her talents regardless of her sex.
She removed her shoes, flexing her toes. The soles of her feet throbbed after being upon them almost the entire day during Mrs Watson’s labour. Her eyelids drooped.
The front door opened and closed, and the corners of her lips tilted.
“Good evening, wife.” Gabriel’s deep voice wafted from the doorway.
Without opening her eyes, she replied, “Good evening, husband.”
“I must say, I never tire of the sight of you slouched in a chair with my babe in your belly.”
“My comportment these days is shocking. Perhaps you should have selected a less slovenly wife.”
“But I have a slight problem.” His voice whispered in her ear. “I only want you.”
She puckered her lips, upon which he placed a gentle kiss.
A large hand caressed her stomach. “I take it all is well with Mrs Watson.”
“Yes, she has a healthy boy.”
Their babe kicked against its father’s warm palm.
Her eyes flew open and met a loving brown gaze.
“Perhaps you should refrain from attending births until after our child is born.”
Blythe sighed. “Your mother has already given me this lecture.”
“You would be wise to listen. She has attended almost every woman in the area during their pregnancies for the last fifty years.”
“I know, but I do not want to miss any opportunity to learn.”
“What would you recommend to an older mother expecting a child after more than a ten-year gap?”
She pursed her lips. Of course, she would tell them to rest as much as possible, but she refused to admit it.
“You are an excellent midwife and healer, Blythe, but you need to recognise when to take your own advice.”
“Yes, yes. I shall rest when I can,” she grumbled.
Gabriel glanced at the pile of pamphlets and newspapers on the side table. “I see Violet continues to read the financial pages.”
Blythe released a long breath. “We argued about her desire to visit the bank, and she asked me to remind you that you have several patients who need to settle their debts.”
Gabriel ran a hand down his face. “She is a determined young lady, just like her mother.”
Blythe narrowed her eyes. “Do not forget that you have a wife and family to support now. You cannot allow your patients to take advantage of your kindness.”
“I shall try harder, my love.”
“Ensure you do, for we will have Elijah’s university fees to pay for soon, as well as an extra mouth to feed.”
The baby kicked again, and Blythe yawned. Quickly covering her mouth, she said, “Forgive me, it has been a long day.”
“Then let me take you to bed.”
Gabriel straightened and winced. “I swear John continues to give me the most back-breaking duties as ongoing punishment for seducing his sister and not marrying her.”
“But we are married now, and I have yet to forgive him for giving you a black eye.”
Gabriel tucked his arm under her knees and lifted her from the chair.
Blythe gasped, “What about your back?”
“What sort of husband would I be if I did not carry you to bed after a long day?”
“A sensible one.”
They both chuckled.
“But we both know I am not sensible when it comes to you.”
“That is why I love you, Doctor Sharpe.”
“I love you too, Mrs Sharpe.”
She pressed her lips to his while he climbed the stairs, then pulled back. “Wait! Mrs Brimble is making some tea.”
He fumbled for the doorknob of their bedchamber. “The tea can wait.” He kicked the door shut behind them.