Otherwise Engaged
Page 22
I did not dare release my grip on Stella’s mane to swipe away my tears, so they flew from my cheeks as we raced across the fields. To reach the church ruins, I was forced to take a horribly long route, around the rock wall and—
The wall. It came into view ahead of me, a gray snake among the grass. If I jumped the wall, I could cut a few minutes from my ride. The passing seconds pressed upon me, smothering me, but still, I hesitated. I was alone. What if . . . ?
But I could not let myself think it. I had to take the chance.
I turned Stella to the wall and pushed her even faster. She saw the jump coming, her head stretching out to greet the challenge. My vision was edged in black as my painful memories did their best to fight for control of my determination. I forced them away and focused again on the wall, on making this jump, on reaching William.
Stella leaped, and I held her mane, grasping her sides with my legs as tightly as I could. We soared over the wall in a blink, a jarring landing, and then Stella was running again, faster. I leaned lower, overcome by the amazing creature that Stella was.
Finally, finally, we approached the hills around the ruins. I slowed Stella to a canter as we wound through trees and tall grass, and I glimpsed the crumbling walls of the old church.
“William!” I cried as I pulled Stella to a stop in front of the curved archway that led inside. I could not see him. “William, are you here?”
No answer. Not even the rustling of grass or leaves, as even the wind had deserted me.
But then—
“Really, Rebecca. I told you I needed to clear my head. That was not an invitation to follow me.”
He was here. He was angry, but he was here. “William, you must come home.”
“If this is some ridiculous ploy to convince me you were not in the wrong—”
“No, it’s not, it is—”
“I’ll not have it. I’m not in a forgiving mood at the moment, and—”
“Blast it, William, this is not about you and me,” I snapped. “It’s Juliana. The baby is coming.”
Silence. Then stumbling footsteps through the brush and William appeared in the archway, one hand grasping a protruding stone. “Now?” he asked, dumbfounded. “The baby is coming now?”
“Yes, the carriage brought her home just a few minutes ago. The pains have started, and Mama is with her, but Juliana wants you.”
He disappeared back through the archway, and for a wild, ridiculous moment, it seemed as though he was ignoring me. But then I heard the snort of his horse, hidden behind one of the walls, and William appeared around the corner, leading his mount with purposeful steps.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice clear and sharp.
“I don’t know the details,” I said. “Sophie brought her home, so she can tell you.”
William focused on me for the first time, and he came to a jolting halt. “Where the devil is your saddle?”
I’d anticipated his reaction, but I could not let his surprise delay us. “I needed to find you quickly,” I said. “And I did. Now, please, hurry. We do not have the time for this discussion.”
He opened his mouth to argue, no doubt, and then shook himself and turned to his horse. “Is Juliana all right?” he asked as he pulled himself smoothly into the saddle. “Has Dr. Turner been sent for?”
I avoided his first question. “Yes, he’s been sent for.”
“Rebecca,” he growled as he adjusted his seat.
I gulped. “I only saw her a moment. She . . .” I shook my head. “She did not look well.”
He paled as his hands grasped the reins. Then he whirled his mount around and kicked, galloping faster than he ought over this terrain. I urged Stella to follow him, though I kept my words of caution to myself. It was his wife, his child. There was nothing I could say to slow him.
I barely kept pace with him all the way back to Havenfield. He ought to have wagered on this race. I shook my head to dismiss such a flippant notion. What was wrong with me to have such silly thoughts at a time like this? Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I was selfish and uncaring.
I gritted my teeth, urging Stella faster as William extended his lead by another length. I needed to focus on Juliana, on helping however I could, no matter my own personal circumstances. That was what our family needed, and I would not let them down.
We dashed together across the lawn, the gray stones of Havenfield rising before us. When at last our horses’ hooves met the pebbled drive before the front door, William threw himself from the saddle before his mount came to a stop, not even bothering to hand the reins to the waiting groom. He darted up the stairs and disappeared inside the front door, held open by Mr. Banfield.
The poor groom stared at me as I dismounted, then at my saddle-less horse. All my secrets were out now. At least I needn’t worry about that anymore.
I followed William inside, though he was already halfway up the stairs before I even stepped through the front door.
“How is she?” I asked the butler as I tugged off my gloves. “Any changes?”
“The doctor arrived and is with her now,” Mr. Banfield said, closing the door behind me.
I raised a hand to my forehead as a sudden weakness gripped me. I’d found William, brought him home. I’d done that much.
“Pardon me, Miss Rowley, but you’ve a visitor.”
“A visitor?” My day had already been ruined by one unexpected visitor. I hardly wanted another.
“Yes, and I told him he had unfortunate timing, considering, but Lieutenant Avery was insistent about speaking with you.”
“Lieutenant Avery is here?” I stared at him.
“I am, indeed,” Nicholas’s voice said from behind me.
I gripped the skirts of my habit. Why did he have to come now? I turned to face Nicholas standing in the parlor doorway. He watched me, eyes guarded. I’d never seen him so disheveled, with a loose cravat and dusty Hessians.
“I—” My mouth was dry. “I did not expect to see you.”
“I only wanted to speak with you a moment,” he said. “Please.”
I tugged on my sleeve. It had been but an hour, at most, since he’d learned I was engaged. Twelve hours since he’d kissed me. I was in no condition to hear whatever it was he had to say to me.
“I heard what’s happened,” Nicholas said, stepping forward as Mr. Banfield disappeared down the corridor. “That the baby is coming.”
“Yes.” The word came out far too weak. I cleared my throat. “Yes, and I really should go upstairs.”
He nodded. “I’ll not hold you long. I simply wanted to apologize.”
“Apologize?” I shook my head. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Nicholas.”
“Except I do.” He lowered his voice, though we stood alone in the entry. “I was completely at fault. You were honest from the beginning about”—he winced—“Mr. Bainbridge, and I was a fool for thinking . . .” He stopped, exhaling as he ran his hand through his untidy hair. “I was a fool,” he repeated. “And I hope you will forgive any trespass on my part that was unwelcome.”
Trespass. As if his kiss had been a nuisance rather than entirely overwhelming and exhilarating and—
Improper. Entirely improper.
“You have no need of my forgiveness,” I whispered. “If anyone is to blame, it is I. I depended on you too much. You were the only one I could trust, and I needed that so desperately. I am sorry for . . . for . . .”
For what? I’d not meant to encourage him. I’d meant to do the opposite. But somehow, I had made a mess of it all anyway.
Because he was not the fool. I was. I’d told myself again and again that there was nothing but friendship between us. I’d explained away every moment where he’d made my breath catch or my pulse race. But I could not explain away what I felt now, and I could do nothing except hurt him.
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br /> I closed my eyes. “I am sorry, Nicholas.”
Footsteps echoed through the entry, and I turned as Mama came to the top of the stairs. She paused as she spotted Nicholas and me.
“Lieutenant Avery.” She began descending. “I apologize for not greeting you. I did not know you were here.”
He bowed. “There is no need, Mrs. Rowley. I am aware your attention is needed elsewhere. I only needed a moment to speak with Miss Rowley.”
“How is Juliana?” I asked as Mama reached the marble floor.
Her face tightened. “Not well,” she said softly. “I am sending for Lady Rowley now.”
I nodded. Juliana’s grandmother had planned to return in three days from visiting her daughter and family. We’d all assumed there was plenty of time yet before the baby.
An idea lit in my mind. I stepped forward. “Let me go and fetch her. You know I ride faster than any groom. I could be to Brayton in a matter of hours.”
Mama was already shaking her head. “You cannot go such a distance alone, so sending a groom will be just as effective. And I need you here, to help.”
“To help?” I waved my hand. “How can I be of any help? I’ve no experience.” In much of anything, really, but certainly not in childbirth.
“You need to be here,” she insisted. “In case—” Her voice cut out, and she held a hand to her forehead.
I furrowed my brow. “In case of what, Mama?”
“Nothing,” she said briskly, dropping her hand. “But you are staying here, and I’ll hear no argument.”
I hesitated but then nodded. After what I’d put her through today, the least I could do was listen now.
“I will go.”
My head snapped to Nicholas, determination claiming his face.
“I will go and bring Lady Rowley,” he said. “Please. I should like to help how I can.”
“We cannot ask it of you.” Mama pressed a hand to her stomach. “I can easily send a messenger.”
He shook his head. “It is no imposition, I promise. I have many regrets in my life”—his eyes found mine before flicking away again—“but helping a neighbor will never be one of them.”
Mama still did not look entirely convinced, glancing between Nicholas and me. “If you are sure.”
“I am.”
Mama nodded. “Then I would be most grateful to accept your offer.”
I barely listened as she explained where the Woodwards lived and how best to reach them quickly. I could not look at Nicholas; I could not bear to see his face so full of pain. I hated being the cause. I’d never wanted this.
“Please impress upon her the urgency of the situation.” Mama’s voice broke into my thoughts. “She cannot arrive too soon.”
He nodded. “Of course. I will return as quickly as possible.”
He offered a bow, and without another glance my way, he strode to the door. As he closed it behind him, the dull thud echoed through the quiet entry.
Mama turned immediately and lifted her skirts as she started back up the stairs, acting as if I were not even there. My insides twisted like the storm clouds I’d seen over the sea at Brighton.
“Mama,” I said, starting after her. “Please, let me explain everything with Edward. If only you could understand—”
“Not now, Rebecca,” she said, not with anger as I’d expected but with weariness. “I haven’t the capacity to deal with two crises, and Juliana is far more important at the moment.” She disappeared up the stairs without another word, and I followed without question. She was right, of course. Juliana needed us, and we could not fail her.
Chapter Twenty
Time was a strange thing. It seemed as though only minutes had passed since William and I had arrived at the house that morning, but as I stepped back into Juliana’s room with a stack of clean linens, dark shadows crept in through the windows, the horizon a line of dull purple against the black sky.
Dr. Turner and Mama stood beside Juliana, speaking quietly with her as William kept his spot on the bed next to her. I remembered the debate months ago when William had wanted to hire an accoucheur to see Juliana through her confinement, but she had refused. She preferred the local physician to a stranger.
I eyed Dr. Turner as I handed the linens to Sophie, who set about organizing them. I’d never had occasion to meet Millbury’s physician before tonight. I hoped he lived up to Juliana’s trust in him.
“Any word?” Sophie asked quietly.
I shook my head. “It has only been a few hours. She’ll likely not arrive until after midnight, if she leaves directly after the messenger arrives.”
Nicholas was an excellent horseman. He must have arrived at Brayton by now, so it was just a matter of time. Even with all that had happened between us, I knew he would do everything in his power to bring Lady Rowley quickly. Juliana had asked after Lady Rowley only once, but I saw how often her eyes went to the door. Though I knew she loved Mama, she needed her grandmother.
A low string of curses came from the bed. Juliana’s shoulders hunched together, and she hissed as she pressed both hands to her belly. Sophie and I exchanged a worried glance. The pains were coming quicker now.
“Devil take it,” Juliana breathed as she fell back against her pillows.
William took her hand, watching her anxiously. “Is it worsening?”
She glared at him. “No, of course not. I reserve that sort of language for the most pleasant of circumstances.”
I snorted, and Sophie hid a smile as she turned back to the linens. Not even childbirth could lessen Juliana’s spirit.
William gave a halfhearted chuckle. “History would suggest otherwise.”
Dr. Turner cleared his throat, and the joviality in the room, slight as it was, instantly vanished. “I must ask for the room again so I might examine Mrs. Rowley.”
Everyone save for William and Mama acquiesced quickly, used to the way of things in the past few hours. Sophie and I waited silently in the dark corridor while the housekeeper and maid whispered nearby. I could not hear their words, but I knew their tone—the worry that we all tried to keep from Juliana.
When Mama came to the door a few minutes later, her lined face held a grave expression.
I stepped forward. “What’s happened?”
“The child is positioned wrong,” she said quietly. “Footling.”
Sophie grasped my arm. Even I, in all my inexperience, knew what that meant. An older cousin of mine had given birth footling, and neither she nor the child had survived.
“What can be done?” I tried to keep my voice from shaking.
“He will try and turn the baby, but if he cannot . . .”
My balance shifted, as if the house stood at an angle. “Juliana and the baby . . . they are in danger?”
“There is always danger in childbirth,” Mama whispered. “But more so now.”
I could barely speak. “How can we help?”
Mama shook her head, not meeting my eyes. “Pray, Rebecca. Pray.” She went back into the room, followed by a distraught Sophie and the servants. I moved to the open doorway, one hand on the door to steady myself.
Juliana clasped tight to William’s hand as if he were all that kept her from sinking into oblivion. William leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Juliana’s forehead. Beside them, Dr. Turner stood explaining the details of the procedure, how he would push and twist Juliana’s belly to force the baby’s head down and that there could be a variety of complications.
And quite suddenly, it was far too much for me. I’d tried to be brave, to be strong for Juliana, but could not do it any longer. She did not need to see another face full of fear.
With all eyes on Dr. Turner as he spoke, no one noticed as I backed away, the cool darkness welcoming me. Retreating to my room was out of the question; I had to be nearby, no matter that I c
ould not be in the same room. I would never forgive myself if something happened and I was locked away, trapped by my own inadequacies.
I sat on the floor instead, some distance down the corridor. The cold of the wooden floor leached through my skirts and wrapped around my lungs, and I forced myself to inhale and exhale. I hated feeling like this, like there was nothing I could do. I desperately wanted to act, to help, to ensure that some way, somehow, everything would be well. But I could not. The cruel reality of life had taken my family in its jaws, and nothing but time could tell the rest of the story.
The calm murmur of voices from inside Juliana’s room was a sharp contrast to the aching knot that had taken hold inside my chest. This was why I did not belong in that room. I would do more harm than good.
A clatter from outside the house caught my attention, and I straightened. Then the sounds came more clearly—horse hooves on the drive. I scrambled to my feet and flew down the stairs, reaching the ground floor as Mr. Banfield opened the front door. A woman swept inside without hesitation, her fair hair and lined face shadowed in the candlelight.
“Lady Rowley,” I cried. How was she here already? I’d done the calculations a dozen times in my head. A carriage could not have made the journey in the time she had.
“Rebecca.” She grasped my hands, her eyes intent. “How is she? Are we too late?”
“No, no,” I managed. “But please hurry. They are about to turn the baby.”
She did not hesitate a moment longer and rushed up the stairs, her cloak billowing behind her. She knew precisely where to go, this having been her home for more than forty years. I took one step to follow her and then stopped. I couldn’t force my feet to move. Surely, Juliana had enough support, enough help. She did not need my paralyzing dread.
Besides that, I had someone to thank.
I turned back to see Nicholas’s familiar silhouette fill the doorway, and he removed his hat as he stepped inside. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to run to him, to have him envelop me in his arms. He knew how to calm my fears and silence my doubts.