Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1)

by Constance O'Banyon

  Kassidy looked about the sparsely furnished room. “Where is your husband?”

  Abigail laced her fingers through her sister’s. “He had to go away for a time, but he will return very soon.”

  “Let me send for him.”

  “I don’t know where he is,” Abigail admitted sadly. “I know he would be here if he knew his child was about to be born.”

  When Abigail saw the anger in Kassidy’s eyes, she said softly: “Don’t judge him harshly, Kassidy. He didn’t know I was going to have a baby.”

  Kassidy closed her eyes as she held Abigail to her. She would not speak the angry words that choked her. No matter what Abigail said, her husband should be with her.

  7

  The vine-covered, thatched-roof cottage was nestled in a secluded vale just out of sight of the winding Thames. The noonday sun had reached its zenith, and it was stifling hot within the walls of the cottage.

  The stillness was broken by the movements of Mrs. Tetch, who rushed to the well to draw a pail of water, then quickly retraced her steps.

  In the upstairs bedroom, Abigail writhed in pain. Her golden hair was damp as it spilled across the pillow; her body was wet with perspiration as she labored in agony to bring forth her child.

  Kassidy dampened a cloth and applied it to Abigail’s forehead. “Don’t worry, dearest, I am here with you.”

  Abigail licked her dry lips and looked at Kassidy with apprehension in her eyes. “In this you cannot help me. But stay beside me, and I shall borrow your strength, as I always have.”

  “Be brave, Abigail,” Kassidy said, wishing her own heart was not racing with fear. Kassidy didn’t know what to do to help her sister. “The midwife will be here soon. She will know how to help you.”

  “Oh, Kassidy, it hurts so dreadfully.” Abigail’s voice trembled with fear. She rolled on the bed, her eyes wild with pain. “Help me, Kassidy,” she cried over and over, as the pain intensified. “Help me bear the pain.”

  Kassidy pushed a damp lock of hair from her sister’s forehead. “If only I could take your pain upon myself, I would do so, Abigail.”

  “The baby will soon be born,” she gasped. “I am told that when mothers hold their babies, they forget about the suffering.”

  Abigail gripped Kassidy’s hand as intense pain ripped through her body once more.

  “Whoever told you that was an idiot,” Kassidy muttered. She watched Abigail’s eyes close until the pain finally subsided.

  “You are so good to me,” Abigail murmured. “What would I do without you? I have missed you so much.”

  “We shan’t ever be parted again,” Kassidy said fiercely. “Now go to sleep while you can. You are going to need all your strength.”

  Slowly Abigail’s eyes closed, and she fell into an exhausted sleep, while Kassidy tearfully stared down at her.

  Abigail had been laboring since before midnight, and it was now almost sundown of the next day.

  Kassidy was beginning to fear for her sister’s life. She had very little knowledge of childbearing, but surely this was taking an unusually long time? If only the midwife would come. She had sent for her hours ago. What could be keeping her?

  She dropped into a chair, but still retained her grip on Abigail’s hand. She had sent Tetch to London to fetch Aunt Mary—she would surely know what to do.

  Perhaps it was fortunate that Abigail’s husband was not here, Kassidy thought. If he was, she would surely make him aware of her anger, and that would only upset Abigail. What kind of man would impregnate his wife and then leave her to have his baby alone?

  Kassidy tried not to think of the unborn child; she only thought about Abigail and the pain she must endure.

  Abigail groaned in her sleep, and Kassidy went to her side.

  A slight breeze stirred the lace curtains, but it brought little relief from the oppressive heat, so Kassidy picked up a lace fan and swept the air. The door opened a crack, and a white-headed woman peered at them. Shoving the door wide, she ambled in. She was stooped and frail, her face was creased with wrinkles, but there was kindness in her faded blue eyes.

  “I’m Maude Perkins, the midwife, come to help. I couldn’t come sooner, ‘cause there’s been two other babies I delivered since I got word from you.” With a quick assessment of the situation, she nodded. “She’s laboring hard. How long’s she been this way?”

  Kassidy’s eyes were pleading. “For seventeen hours. She seems to be resting now.” There was a catch in Kassidy’s voice. “Please help her.”

  The wise old eyes blinked. “I know about her situation. Do you want me to allow nature to steer the course, or shall I hurry it along a bit?”

  Kassidy swallowed a painful lump in her throat. “I don’t know anything about birth. You’ll have to do as you think best.”

  Maude nodded. “There’s a Lady Mary below. She asked that I send you down at once. You go ahead on. I’ll stay with your sister.”

  Kassidy was relieved to know that Aunt Mary was there, but she was reluctant to leave Abigail. “I promised to stay with her.”

  Maude placed her pack on the floor and nodded to the door. “Little good you’ll do her if you’re done in. Get you down and fortify yourself. If your sister wants you, I’ll let you know.”

  Kassidy lightly touched her sister’s cheek. “She’s of a delicate nature.” Her eyes met the old woman’s. “Will she ... do you think she ...”

  “I’ve been in this situation many times. I’ve hardly ever lost the mother.”

  There was something about Maude Perkins that inspired trust. “Call me if she asks for me.”

  “Have I not said I would?”

  Kassidy tiptoed out of the room and went down the stairs and into the sitting room. She rushed forward to be enfolded in the comforting arms of her Aunt Mary.

  “I came as quickly as I could. How’s Abigail, dear?”

  “I’m frightened for her, Aunt Mary. I never realized the pain involved in giving birth.”

  “It’s nothing to worry about. Women have babies every day, Kassidy. I had a daughter myself.”

  “And Patricia is having her third child.”

  Aunt Mary’s lip turned up in distaste. “Little wonder you are so concerned. I’m sure Patricia complains all day about her condition. But let’s not dwell on her. Let me look at you.” She smiled, shaking her head in approval. “You have turned into a beauty, just as I knew you would.”

  “I’m told I look like you.”

  “And so you do,” Lady Mary said, with a twinkle in her eye.

  Lady Mary studied her favorite niece. Kassidy had indeed inherited the wild Scottish beauty of the Maclvor clan. Within her burned the pride and fire of ancient Scottish chieftains. Her aunt recognized the strength of character reflected in those flashing green eyes. Kassidy, she thought with pride, would never bow to anyone’s will unless she was forced to do so.

  Kassidy’s gaze went to the stairs. “I can’t seem to think of anything but Abigail. I wish I was lying in that bed instead of Abigail.”

  Her aunt set a steaming cup of tea before her. “You would never have found yourself in Abigail’s circumstances. I’m concerned for her also. But it’s time you realize that you can’t always protect her. Where is her husband?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know who he is, or I’d send for him.”

  “None of us knows him. I have been to the cottage several times, but he was never here. When I pressed Abigail to tell me his name, she always refused.”

  “I find this all very strange.” Kassidy heard a muffled scream. She was about to rise, when her aunt stopped her.

  “Mrs. Tetch told me you have not eaten all day. I insist you do so now,” she said, handing Kassidy a plate piled with food. “If we are needed, the midwife will let us know.”

  “Abigail isn’t strong, Aunt Mary.”

  “She’s not strong because you always prop her up and allow her to use your strength. At times I feared she would use you all up, Kassidy
.”

  “But after Mother and Father died, she had no one but me. She needs someone to rely on. I had hoped she found those qualities in her husband—apparently she did not.”

  “You both lost your parents, and yet you only grew stronger, while she relied on you more and more. I love her as much as you do, but I also worry about you, Kassidy. If I know anything, you have put yourself at odds with Henry and you’ll be made to suffer over this.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Henry couldn’t have stopped me from coming to Abigail when she needed me. But the one she really needs is her husband. When he does return, I’ll deal with him harshly.”

  Aunt Mary thought Kassidy looked like an avenging angel. But she also looked tired, as if she had fought one battle too many.

  Kassidy took a deep breath and pushed the food away. Standing up, she rubbed her aching back and stretched her tired muscles. “I should return to Abigail.”

  Lady Mary glanced up at the clock. “I am sorry to say that I have to return to London within the hour. I am holding a gala tonight for George’s birthday and must not be late since the prince will be in attendance. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Unless, of course, you think Abigail needs me before then.”

  Kassidy did not want her aunt to leave, but the midwife had not been concerned about the birth. “I’ll send word to you as soon as the child is born. And give Uncle George my love.”

  Lady Mary stood up and adjusted her silk bonnet. “Try not to worry, my dear.”

  Kassidy walked her aunt to her coach and watched until she was out of sight. Then, she slowly climbed the stairs with dread in her heart, and feeling strangely alone.

  Kassidy looked from Abigail’s swollen stomach to her beautiful face that was distorted with agony. She felt every pain that racked her sister’s body in the very depths of her own soul. Tears blinded her as she stood beside Maude.

  “The labor’s turned bad,” Maude informed her grimly. “The baby’s turned sideways, and I’ll have to try and turn it back. I don’t know if I can save either one of them.”

  “Help her,” Kassidy pleaded. “Please help my sister.”

  Maude looked grim. “Keep your wits about you, ‘cause I’m going to need your help.”

  Kassidy swallowed her fear, knowing she must appear unafraid for Abigail. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  Three hours passed while Maude worked over Abigail. By now Abigail was too weak to do more than moan.

  Kassidy glanced at Maude’s bloody hands and shivered. The white bed sheets were stained with blood, and Abigail was colorless.

  “The baby is killing her, Maude. I know it is!” Kassidy cried out.

  Moments later, a weak, puny cry penetrated the room as Abigail’s baby drew its first breath.

  “’Tis a daughter,” Maude said matter-of-factly, wiping the child off before wrapping her in a white blanket.

  Kassidy turned her full attention to her sister, while Maude continued ministering to the child. Dropping down on her knees, she grasped Abigail’s limp hand.

  Abigail’s eyes were closed and her breathing was labored and shallow.

  “The pain is over, dearest,” Kassidy said, even though she knew Abigail could not hear.

  She glanced up at Maude. “She is going to be all right now—isn’t she?”

  Maude shook her head sadly. “The loss of blood was too great. But the child appears healthy.”

  Kassidy buried her face against the soft bed and rolled her head from side to side. “I care not for the child. I only want my sister to live.”

  At that moment, she felt a hand touch her hair and she raised her head. “Poor Kassidy,” Abigail whispered in a weak voice. “You cannot hold death at bay for me.”

  Kassidy licked her dry lips. “Don’t say that. I won’t let you die.”

  Abigail sighed. “If it were possible, you would even battle death for me. You have been my strength and I have been your weakness.”

  “Don’t talk—just rest.”

  “My baby?”

  “A girl,” Kassidy said woodenly.

  “Will she . . . is she .. .”

  Maude held the baby out for Abigail’s inspection. “She’s small, but hearty.”

  Abigail sadly placed a kiss on the baby’s lips, then her eyes fluttered as she blinked away tears. She knew this would be the only time she would touch her baby. “Look after her, as you have looked after me, Kassidy. She will need your guidance.”

  Kassidy’s mind felt severed from the pain and sadness she was experiencing. She knew Abigail was dying. “Don’t talk such nonsense. You will take care of her yourself when you’re stronger.”

  Maude cradled the baby in her arms and discreetly moved to the door. “I’ll be below when you need me.”

  “I feel so weak .. . Kassidy. I don’t want to leave you and my baby. And her father . . . will be so proud of his ... daughter.”

  Suddenly Kassidy’s fear exploded into anger. “Think you he will care?”

  “You .. . don’t know him, Kassidy. I am sorry that the two of you never met.” She stopped to catch her breath. “You would have liked each other.”

  Kassidy saw the effort it was costing Abigail to talk. “I won’t have you upsetting yourself. Just rest for now, and we shall talk about this later.”

  Abigail tried to rise, but fell back gasping.

  “Please ... listen to me ...”

  A spasm of grief contracted Kassidy’s heart. “If I agree to listen, will you rest afterward?”

  Abigail stared at her sister. “I will rest afterward.” She closed her eyes for just a moment, and a lone tear trailed down her cheek. “You don’t understand. Even . . . with my dying breath I love him.”

  Kassidy saw anguish in her sister’s eyes and it was difficult for her to hide the loathing she felt for Abigail’s husband.

  “Don’t hate him, Kassidy. He didn’t know about the baby. He had grave family matters to attend to, so I didn’t want him to be burdened with worry about me.”

  “I care not about his worries or his family. But tell me who he is.”

  “I hesitate to name him.”

  “But why?”

  Abigail blinked her eyes, trying to clear her vision. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I will tell you. He is the ... duke of Ravenworth,” she said at last, her eyes begging for understanding. “He loves me, and he will be happy about the baby—you’ll see.”

  Kassidy had never heard of the duke, but it was hard for her to believe a man of such high rank would keep his wife in such straitened circumstances.

  Anger burned in her heart for the man who had hidden her sister away. Although the Maragon family had no great wealth, their lineage was a long and honorable one. Abigail was the daughter of a viscount, and the granddaughter of a Scottish laird. Surely she was good enough for the mighty duke of Ravenworth.

  Kassidy’s eyes fastened on her sister’s chest, and she was aware that Abigail’s breathing was labored and shallow.

  “Take the baby to him, at Ravenworth Castle, Kassidy. I want her to be with her father, but you must see her as often as you can.” She blinked back her tears. “She will need you, just as I have always needed you.”

  Kassidy was unable to answer because of the aching throb in her throat. Tears streamed down her face and fell hotly against her clasped hands.

  “Promise me . . . Kassidy.”

  The words were wrenched out of Kassidy. “I promise.”

  A calm settled over Abigail’s features. “I am . . . contented.” And with that, she drew in a long shuddering breath and her body went limp.

  An anguished cry tore from Kassidy’s lips.

  “No, God, please no! Don’t take Abigail from me.”

  Kassidy stayed beside her dead sister throughout the night, crying tears of grief. When the sun came up, she sent Tetch to deliver the tragic news to Aunt Mary.

  She refused Maude’s offer to prepare her sister for burial. Kassidy insisted on dressing Abig
ail in her finest gown. She then brushed her golden hair until it shone. She crossed Abigail’s hands over her chest, and kissed her cold lips. She was as beautiful in death as she had been in life. Kassidy prayed that her sweet sister had found peace at last.

  With a last long look at Abigail, she descended the stairs to find the baby. Without looking on the face of the child, she picked her up and turned to Maude.

  “When my aunt arrives, tell her I have taken the baby to her father. She will make all the arrangements for my sister’s”—tears brightened her eyes, and she choked them back—“my sister’s burial.”

  Maude nodded, her shrewd eyes seeing past the young girl’s hurt. “I overheard you and your sister talking. If you are to take the baby on a journey, you will need help.”

  “If you heard the conversation, perhaps you can tell me who the duke of Ravenworth is.”

  “I know only what I’ve heard, and that is he’s the head of the powerful DeWinter family. I had thought him an old man, but I must be mistaken if he fathered your sister’s child.”

  For the first time, Kassidy looked at the baby. Golden curls, so like Abigail’s, covered the child’s head, and the likeness stabbed Kassidy with renewed grief. Even though she tried, Kassidy could not blame the helpless infant for her sister’s death. But she did not want to love this child if she had to give her up.

  She held the baby tightly, steeling herself against a second loss.

  “You’ll need a wet nurse,” Maude said, catching her attention again. “I know a trustworthy woman who just might be willing to accompany you on your journey.”

  “Will you arrange it for me?”

  The old woman nodded. “I suppose you’ll be using the public coach.”

  “I have no choice. Tetch has taken the buggy and I am not certain when he will return. I must leave at once.”

  “You will not stay to see your sister buried?”

  Kassidy looked at the floor because she could not look into the midwife’s eyes. “I have already said my farewell to my sister.”

  “Then I’ll see that Heloise Gibbins meets you at the coaching inn within the hour.”

  The midwife moved to the door, slipping her bag over her shoulder.