“THANK YOU FOR COMING, dear,” her mother said, meeting her at the front door. She covered her face with her hands as though a brief respite from the late-day sun would help her see better. “The captain is in charge now, but Madeline needs some company and you know how useless men are.”
Lynette nodded, although it had occurred to her that men were never given a chance to be anything but useless during a birth.
“I’ve thought about it, dear heart, and it would be better not to upset the children. You stay with Madeline and I will go home.”
“Mama! I know nothing about a woman’s confinement.”
“And I have had only one experience. I am sorry to say, it was so awful, the thought of watching someone else go through it makes me feel quite ill. No, my dear, it must be you. One thing I do remember is that it will be hours before anything happens.”
Mama would not budge from her decision and ten minutes later was hurrying down the path. As Lynette watched her, she prayed that someone here knew more than she did.
Madeline was already in her nightgown and in bed. Propped high on pillows, she was directing her maid and the others so efficiently that Lynette decided, if the baby was born before the midwife arrived, Madeline would tell them exactly how to proceed. She was, after all, the most experienced among them.
Her pains were about ten minutes apart. “It could be quite a long wait,” Madeline assured Lynette, who began to wonder who was comforting whom.
“It is a relief to have someone near. The staff are wonderful, but they try to do too much, when all I really want is someone to sit with me.”
“That I can do,” Lynette assured her with relief. She claimed a chair placed near her bed and waited while Madeline finished giving instructions. There was one long pause as a contraction came and went. Lynette noticed that she was not the only one holding her breath for the duration.
“There,” Madeline said, sounding more satisfied than relieved. “I think all is in readiness. If you would leave me with Miss Gilray, I would have you come back in an hour or so.”
When her maid demurred, Madeline insisted. “You must rest now. The midwife will need you later.” That seemed to please the woman, and she left with a self-satisfied air.
“She has a son away at school and has been telling me the most awful stories of women in labors. I have heard them all before and need no reminder.”
There must be a dozen subjects the two of them could talk about and all Lynette could think of was stories about children. Not the best topic at the moment.
“Lynette, tell me what the captain is like at sea. I have never seen him in command and I’m curious.” Madeline pushed the top cover back, as though she was hot.
“Give me a moment to think,” Lynette said, hopping from the chair to move the covering to the foot of the bed so that it was folded and still within easy reach. “Captain Wilton is completely in charge. He is curt, quiet, and authoritative. He is alone but not at all lonely. A man comfortable with his position, even though it costs him the camaraderie of his fellow officers.”
She stopped as Madeline concentrated on the next pain. Lynette walked to the window and stared out.
“There,” Madeline said again, though this time it was with some annoyance. “Is his brother anything like him?”
“Gabriel?” she asked, then could have kicked herself for calling him anything but Lord Gabriel.
“Yes. I know they have different mothers, but I am amazed at the small things that Robert and his brother Lynford have in common. Of course, Jessup is as different as can be from those two. I was wondering what you think of Gabriel.”
What did she think of Gabriel? If she were being honest she would have to think about that answer for a day or two. “He is a charming man with too much faith in the essential goodness of his fellows, but not blind to their failings.”
“Yes, exactly.”
It was the truth, she thought. She did not have to think about it at all. As easy to say as it would be to recite the letters of the alphabet. Was that good or bad?
“He is convinced man can overcome his failings,” Madeline added. “Just as he is convinced that Robert will one day see the light and accept his place in the family. It is something we have talked about a number of times these last weeks. He is an optimist.”
Yes, that was Gabriel Pennistan in a single word. She was about to answer when Madeline’s expression changed. Closing her eyes, she put her hand on her stomach and let the pain overwhelm her. Lynette came close to the bed and took Madeline’s other hand. Madeline squeezed her fingers, more tightly than Lynette thought possible, and let go as soon as the pain ended.
“Oh my,” she said, reaching for the damp cloth in the bowl nearby and wiping her face. “Lynette, do you think it is the mother who has the greater influence over the child even before it is born? James and Robert have the same autocratic way about them. They have the same father but different mothers.
“I worry about it,” Madeline confessed. “I want our children to have Robert’s strength, his generosity, his fairness, his sense of commitment.”
“You, my dear Mrs. Wilton, are calm, patient, sensible, too sensible sometimes. They are all admirable qualities as well. If you are lucky, your children will have the best parts of both of you.”
“A lovely thought,” she said, patting Lynette’s hand. “I hope that you find a man as fine as Robert.”
She already had. She was the one who was not “fine” enough.
As another pain ended, Madeline went on. “I hope that by the time you have children they will have invented a way to eliminate this part of the birthing process.”
30
IT WAS FOUR HOURS BEFORE the midwife arrived. Madeline’s pains were much closer now and the midwife muttered a word or two and waved everyone out of the room while she “took a look at the missus.”
Lynette went to the parlor and was directed to the dinning room, where a cold dinner had been set out. The captain was in his study and not at all interested in food or company, according to Yancy, who was back from the Gilray home with the assurance that all was well there.
Lynette helped herself at the butler’s urging and then could not resist asking where Gabriel was.
“He’s with the boys, to make sure they do not make trouble.”
“They wouldn’t. Not tonight!”
“Boys don’t think about much but what they want, miss,” he said, as though he were the father of a dozen. “Could be Lord Gabriel would like some of that ham and a bit of that bread with it. If you put some butter on it, there be nothing as good as cook’s supper bread.” As he spoke he made up a plate and added some spring vegetables. “Why not take it up to him. I’m sure the boys would like a bit of news even if you have to make it up. The captain is struggling with his own fears and is better off alone.”
She made her way to the nursery wing, where she could hear nothing but a man’s voice. Tiptoeing into the schoolroom, she put the plate down and walked to the door that led into the bedchamber the boys shared.
“Is there anything else that you wish to know?”
Gabriel sounded every bit the man of science.
“No, sir.” The response was like a chorus.
“Shall I wake you when you have a brother? Or sister?” he added quickly. “Of course, the baby may not come until tomorrow.”
“Mama won’t die, will she?”
Had they been discussing childbirth?
“I cannot promise that nothing will go wrong, boys, but your mama is a strong, sensible woman. She has been through this before. You two are proof of that.”
As if that makes a difference, Lynette thought, but what else could you say to children when you were as unfailingly honest as Gabriel Pennistan?
“The best way you can help is to be quiet and behave like you have halos. I know it will be difficult. I think you are up to it, though. If you are able to control your baser urges, I will take you to Astley’s Amphitheatre as soon
as the captain gives permission. If you do not behave, I suspect that your father may ask me to sell you to the circus.”
“Yes, sir,” they said with a crispness that meant they understood it was not an idle threat.
“It is early for bed. I will leave one candle and you may play a quiet game if you wish. But if I hear a giggle from this room I will be back.”
“We do not giggle, sir,” one of them protested in an injured voice.
“Yes, I know, that is why if I hear a giggle I will know there is a girl in here.”
The boys laughed at the joke and Gabriel came out of the room without waiting for any more of an answer than that. He did that often, she realized.
“What about girls in here, Lord Gabriel?” Lynette asked.
“I have never heard you giggle. Do you even know how?”
“When the need arises,” she said, and then decided it would be wise to change the subject. “Astley’s Amphitheatre? You are going to take them to the circus? It will give them ideas that will haunt the Wiltons for years.”
“I think Astley finds his acts by watching young boys. They will learn nothing new, Lynette. If the bribery works, I will gladly take them to London at my own expense and without a thought for what a fool I will look with two scapegrace boys in tow.” He saw the plate and walked straight to the table. “Of course, if you were to come with us, then no one would even notice the boys. Or me.” He took a bite of the bread and hurried to swallow, as he apparently had something else important to say. “How odd, we have not seen each other for weeks. Now we are together twice in one day.”
“Odd? No, it is the way of village life.”
“I think you are avoiding me.”
“The sun does not revolve around you, Lord Gabriel. I have children to help with, and my art is what feeds us.”
That did give him pause, but not for long.
“You see,” he said, waving an empty fork as if he were taking lessons from badly mannered schoolboys, “I think you realize that the more time we spend in each other’s company, the more you will see that we are meant to be together.”
She had no answer for that other than to repeat what she had said before. She settled for a shrug.
“I know this is an important decision for you, Lynette, and I am willing to wait for as long as it will take for you to accept me.”
That made her laugh, when it should have made her angry.
He sat down and finished the food and seemed disappointed that there was not more. She tidied up the room, though it really did not need it, then, when he started to talk again, she wondered why she had not left.
“During the day the light of nature gives life to a cut-paper silhouette. Does the moon give enough light to see the details at night?”
“I suppose a full moon might,” she said, wondering where that question had come from. “Especially in April and May before the trees are fully leafed. If the sky is clear.”
“You sound like you are humoring a madman.” He raised his hand toward the window. “The transparency of Le Havre is truly a lovely piece of art. I am only disappointed that I cannot admire it right now. During the day I am too busy trying to control the chaos.” He pointed to a cracked window. “That is what happens if I dare take my eyes off the boys during the day.”
“The captain and Madeline insist they love the silhouettes and the transparencies.” She walked over to trace the crack and shook her head. “I have done some for the boys’ tutor too. Famous mountain peaks, a volcano erupting, the insides of a fish. Now, that was an odorous project. If I could find the right commission, I could support my family doing it and truly be an independent woman.”
“Your fondest wish,” he agreed as though it were a sword through his heart. “Do you play chess?”
So he wanted to change the subject. Or was he reading her mind again? She played chess badly and said yes with the delightful idea of making him work so hard to lose to her that he would go completely mad.
Only, he played almost as badly as she did.
“Distracted. We are both distracted,” he insisted as they began their second game. “I don’t know if I want to hear screams or if the quiet makes me more nervous. This is almost as bad as waiting for that damn French colonel to decide whether he was going to shoot my head off or not.”
He took one of her pawns with his queen and sat back awaiting her move. “Does that happen to you? You are going about your day quite as usual and then all of a sudden the simplest thing will happen and you are reminded of the worst parts of your days in France? Or, even more frightening, you cannot remember where you are?”
“Or who you are.” She picked up the pawn, moved her bishop and took one of his pawns. “Yes. Now it happens most often when I wake up. After the first two trips and some awful nightmares I began to sleep on the window seat in my studio. Then I would know I was home when I woke up. And that my name is Lynette Gilray.”
He picked up his pawn and gave up any pretense of playing the game. “I show the boys how to fence and pray they will never have to use it for more than sport.”
“I show the girls how to paint and hope that they will never face any choice more difficult than what color to choose.”
“And the oddest thing of all,” he said, “is that life went on here at home in England, as though there were no war.”
He could read her mind, she realized, but only because it was his experience as well. “Sometimes,” she said, “I wonder which of the two worlds is more real.”
Gabriel nodded, but before he could answer they were interrupted by a tap at the door. He raced to open it and found Yancy, who shook his head at Gabriel’s expression. “There is no news yet, sir. The captain would like to see you.” He took in the chess game and Lynette and added, “If you are available.”
Yancy behaved as though it were perfectly normal for an unmarried lady and an unmarried gentleman to be alone together in a room with only one candle lit.
“Of course, I will come right now.”
With a bow to Lynette, he started out the door and then realized he had responsibilities on the other side of the wall. Judging by the sounds, the boys were nowhere near close to sleep. “Lynette, would you mind acting as governess for a few minutes?”
“Surprisingly enough, it’s a character I have never played. I would be happy to help,” she said with a small curtsy.
Wilton was at his desk, working steadily on a letter. Gabriel took a seat opposite him and thought he might go out for a look at the night when they were finished here.
“Thank you for your patience, Pennistan.” Wilton put the pen down and sanded the letter. “I am better at writing than speaking and I did not want to lose the thought.”
Gabriel nodded. He understood that well enough.
“This last week has been amazing,” the captain said, leaning forward, folding his hands over the paper. “A war is over. One that has spanned most of my lifetime and more of yours. Within the day, hopefully within the hour, I will have another child.” He shook his head. “It is an overwhelming thought. That my blood will continue long after I am gone.”
Gabriel decided that was as sentimental as Robert Wilton could be and was astounded when the captain handed him the letter.
“I have written a letter to the duke asking if I could call in Derbyshire. It seems to me that this is the month, if not the year, for new beginnings. I understand his wife is increasing.” He stopped and waved a hand at the letter. “Would you please read it and tell me if it will be met with approval or find offense?”
What a gesture, Gabriel thought. He read the letter, which was as eloquent as Wilton’s speech had been prosaic. He was a skilled writer. Gabriel told him so. “It is especially thoughtful of you to mention Rowena’s condition.”
“I was afraid that it might be too personal.”
“No. We are family, Robert. I am sure she will be more than delighted to have you two meet. As I am.”
“I will tell you tha
t it’s what’s happened all around me, plus my own words that you tossed back to me. It’s the future we have to think about and not the past.”
Gabriel felt his eyes fill and blinked the emotion away. He stood up and held out his hand. “Welcome to the family, Robert.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Robert said, and cleared his throat, standing to shake hands. “I will have one of the men take it tomorrow.” He hesitated. “Or as soon as we can make our own announcement.” His try at a smile was not entirely successful.
“The waiting is hard enough for me,” Gabriel said, “it must be so much more difficult for you.”
“I am more used to action” was all he would admit.
“I can only imagine.” Worse than difficult, Gabriel thought, more like a refined kind of torture.
They sat again, talking a little, listening to the quiet of night settle on the house. They heard a door close occasionally, and once Madeline’s maid came to tell them that the confinement was progressing quite normally.
“Whatever normal is,” Robert muttered as the door closed.
Gabriel was nodding off, considering ways he could induce Lynette to come watch the stars with him, when the sound of a key being turned in a lock filled him with such panic that he jumped from the chair. “If you lock that door, I will break it down and kill you with my bare hands.”
The man standing by the desk stepped back in surprise. He held up his hand, from which a key dangled. “Gabriel, it’s Robert Wilton. I was locking my desk, that’s all.”
“That hideous sound was the key?” Gabriel shuddered as Robert finished the job. It made the smallest grating sound.
Gabriel sank into the chair again, covering his face with his hands. Finally, he looked up at his brother. “How long? How much longer will the most common sound awaken a nightmare?”
“That I cannot tell you.” Robert walked to the sideboard and poured some brandy into two glasses. He handed one to Gabriel and tasted his own, sitting down heavily. “I can only assure you that you are not mad. Or alone in this.”
“It is not just the panic. Lynette and I were just talking about it.”
Mary Blayney Page 24
