Chapter Eight #3
Liesel lifted her shoulders in mirth. “Herr Rothschild will not know what to do with so many ladies in his office.”
Gus laughed. “For the first time, do you think, Liesel?”
“Six of us. Oh, yes.” Liesel took Zeph’s arm. “He will be beside himself with horrible glee!”
Zeph shook her head. “We can hope!”
*
“Wait,” Viv said as Davis distributed the ladies’ winter capes and they waited for Gus’s and Amber’s town coaches to pull around. “The men will worry.”
Gus gave a short laugh. “Until they learn about it.”
Amber grinned, triumph in her posture. “Which won’t be until we tell them…tonight.”
“I want to go…” Inès put a hand to her rounded middle.
“But I think you must go without me. I simply—” Then she gasped.
“I wish I could, but I cannot bear the jostling of a carriage ride. Not even for so fine a meeting as this will be. So that means,” she said as she gave a laugh and winced in pain, “of course, that one of you must return to me and tell me every word of your meeting.”
Amber volunteered as she and Gus hooked their arms in each of Inès’s. “I shall come immediately afterward.”
Gus frowned. “You are in pain.”
“Not pain,” Inès said. “A sort of tingling and…ooof! My stomach gets hard.”
Gus lifted a hand. “May I?”
“Yes, please.”
Gus felt Inès’s rounded middle. “False labor.”
“Or maybe the real thing?” Amber said. “Have you had it often?”
Inès gulped. “Yes. Yes. But not as frequently.”
“What date did you calculate for delivery of this child, my dear?” Gus knitted her brows.
“Soon.”
Amber inhaled. “How soon?”
Inès looked pensive. “This week. Next?”
Gus gazed at each lady in turn. “Go without me.”
“Is Halsey here?” Amber looked dismayed as she questioned Inès.
“No. Oh!” Inès gasped as a puddle of liquid appeared around her feet. She stared down and said, “That was embarrassing.”
“No.” Amber wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “That was natural. You are in labor, sweetheart.”
“Davis!” Gus got the full attention of the butler who stood stiff as a wooden soldier, one coat dangling from his long fingers. “We need four footmen. Two here immediately for Lady Halsey right now. Come on, sweetheart, we’ll get you up to your room. Do you know where Lord Halsey is today, Davis?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. You will send two footmen to get him and bring him back here at once.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He got only so far before, of a sudden, he swung around. “Two footmen, ma’am?”
“One to convey the news and the other to catch him if he faints.”
“Ah. Wise.” Then he disappeared down the main stairs to the servants’ quarters, clapping his hands and yelling for Morris and Hays.
Gus and Amber walked Inès slowly to the nightwatchman’s chair.
Inès gave a laugh through her ordeal. “Evan won’t faint.”
Amber stared at her. “Don’t be too sure, my dear.”
“Each of them is unique,” said Gus. “Every man has a little itch that gives him away. Here, turn around, sweetheart; let’s undo your lacing at the back of your gown.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Amber huffed. “It will be.”
As Amber struggled with the gown’s lacings, Inès smiled at Gus. “What do… Oh!” She clamped shut her eyes and clutched her middle.
“Breathe,” Gus urged her. “Slowly. Breathe. Look at me. Yes, yes. Like this. With me.”
Zeph smiled. This was what Rafe had taught her when her mind went to the past…and things she should not dwell upon.
Suddenly, two very tall creatures came running.
Davis strode right behind them, out of breath. “Up, up, up! Pick her up, boys. The master bed! Now!”
Gus swirled toward the others. “I’m staying. I’ve done this three times. All of you go. Find out about Zeph’s inheritance.”
But Inès cried out as one footman simply picked her up in his arms and ran like a fiend up the stairs. The other footman darted beside him.
Davis brought up the rear. At the landing, he spun. “Ladies, the carriages should come around any minute.”
*
Minutes later, Zeph, Amber, Viv, and Liesel were on their way to Nathan Rothschild’s offices. Viv and Liesel spoke to each other of the last time they had each met with this little man who had emigrated from Frankfurt, Baden, Germany more than fourteen years ago.
“I gave the address of his current offices to the groom,” Liesel said as she straightened her skirts. “I hope he is in.”
“Where else would he be?” Zeph asked.
“He still travels back and forth from Manchester to London. He wants to move here, my husband tells me, but he has many shipping clients there and needs to coordinate management of all that. St. Helen’s Place is in the City and, barring traffic, we will be there within twenty minutes.”
But Zeph’s thoughts were on babies. She felt tossed, at sea.
Days ago, she had started her flux again.
She knew little about having a child, only that a woman had to be young enough and have a monthly.
She had that. But no one at Madame Campan’s school had breathed a word about having a child, only occasionally about the nuisance of a woman’s monthly flux.
Any discussion of romance was about flirting.
Most girls conveyed a simplistic view of how men and women mated.
Few had lived on an estate with animals and few knew what mating was.
Zeph knew. All too well. And after how those two guards had used her in prison, she knew the girls’ knowledge was not even accurate.
She grabbed a breath. For now, she would have her friends to teach her what she wished to learn. Each woman had a happy marriage, a man they adored, children by them.
And this feeling of yearning, this sensational longing that heated her blood and stirred her in the depths of her body, was normal.
Normal, Rafe. A joy to be treasured.