Laura Carroll Butler

by The Price of a Pearl

  It was three weeks into their affair that Rebecca cried. She was laying on his chest listening to the rhythm of his heart. Before she arrived, Michael had built a fire as the days were becoming shorter and cooler. A chilly rain had begun and the sound of rain, the fire and his heart somehow made her realize how quickly this would end.

  He didn’t realize that she was crying, mistaking the tears for the sweat of their lovemaking. He saw when she tried to furtively wipe her eyes. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she whispered, but the tremble in her voice couldn’t be hidden.

  He sighed sadly. “I don’t want this to end either.”

  “But it has to. I can’t hurt Susanne.”

  “And Davis?”

  Her voice was more defiant. “Whether you admit it to me or not, I know that there is someone else he loves. I am only his wife.”

  Michael knew that if he told Rebecca the truth, she would hate Davis. But he didn’t want her to come to him out of spite; he wanted her to want him. So he said nothing about Davis. “What if,” he began then was silent.

  “What if what?” she asked.

  “Davis would take care of Susanne, Laurence, the baby; you know he would,” he said, thinking aloud.

  Rebecca did not follow at first. When she finally did, she said, “You’re mad,” and laughed.

  “I’m serious. Davis would care for them. I have some money, a little; I know you have money as well. We could leave England, go to the continent, travel everywhere. We would never have to be apart.”

  “You are mad!” she exclaimed. “We can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Michael was manic from excitement at solving their present dilemma.

  Rebecca sat up in bed and repeated, “We can’t!”

  “Why not?” he asked again.

  “Because,” she answered, “You can’t leave your children. Or Susanne. You would never forgive yourself.”

  “Yes, I could!”

  “No, Michael,” she said gently. “You would hate yourself and blame me and leave me eventually. Besides,” she stopped to catch her breath. “Besides, Michael, you don’t love me. You love Susanne. This, what we have, it’s lust.” Rebecca was in real physical pain, trying to keep from sobbing.

  Michael sat up and held her tight, kissing her tears. “You’re wrong, Rebecca. I do love you. I want to be with you.”

  “And Susanne? You don’t love her?”

  She couldn’t see his face, but she knew it reflected the struggle in his heart. “She is my wife,” he finally said. “I will always love her in some way. But, Rebecca, you are the woman I should have been with. You have always known me better than anyone, even Davis. It is you I want to be with. It is you I love.”

  “I love you, too,” she said between choking sobs. “Oh God. Why does it have to hurt so much?”

  ***************************

  Rebecca returned to Elysian Fields before Michael. They had stayed away so long that it was twilight when she handed her reins to the groom. In front of the house she saw a familiar carriage and another horse. When she entered the hall, her heart was in her throat, her mind struggling to understand why Davis was there.

  Gaines greeted her and said, “Lord Edderle arrived rather unexpectedly, my lady. And the doctor is upstairs with the Countess.”

  “Why?” she asked, terrified, but remaining calm.

  “Her child has come early,” Gaines said. He looked at her as meaningfully as his station would allow. “Lord Brooks?”

  “He will be here shortly,” she answered in shock at the news of Susanne.

  Gaines took her hat and gloves. “They are all upstairs, Lady Edderle.”

  “Thank you, Gaines,” she said straightening her skirt and taking a deep breath. Only when she was on the stairs did she realize that she hadn’t asked about the baby.

  Davis was in the hall, one arm folded over his chest, rubbing his chin with the other hand, his concerned look. He visibly brightened when he saw Rebecca and she flinched inwardly at the deception she must now perform.

  “Rebecca,” he said coming to her to embrace and kiss her. “Gaines said that you went out for a ride, but that was hours ago.”

  She was mildly disturbed at how calm and natural the lie came. “I got caught in the rain. I found a shelter, but when it didn’t stop, I decided that I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  “You are soaked, darling. You need to change before you get sick.”

  “Is the doctor with Susanne?” she asked, moving toward Susanne’s room.

  He nodded. “Mrs. Bailey is with them.”

  “And the baby?” she asked, afraid of his response.

  “He is early, but he is healthy.” A boy, she thought, Michael has another son. She mentally pushed away the ache forming in her forehead. “Where is Michael?” he asked.

  “I’m here,” was the breathless response. Rebecca and Davis turned toward a drenched Michael. “Susanne?” he asked Davis avoiding Rebecca’s eyes.

  “The doctor is with her. There was some difficulty.”

  The color drained from Michael’s face. “How is she?” he asked shakily.

  Davis was about to answer when the door to Susanne’s room opened and the doctor came out. “Lord Brooks, so glad you are here. Your wife would like to see you.”

  “How is she?” Michael repeated.

  “The baby is small. I’ve stopped the bleeding, but Lady Brooks won’t feel like herself for a while.”

  “She will survive?” Michael asked desperately frustrated and fearful of the doctor’s caution.

  The doctor nodded reassuringly. “She is weak,” he repeated, “but she will heal.”

  Michael sagged in genuine relief. He took the doctor’s hand, shook it and rushed past Rebecca and Davis into Susanne’s room. Rebecca watched him brush past her; the pain in her heart was unbearable.

  She pulled every reserve of strength and poise she possessed and took Davis’ arm. “I am so happy you are here, darling,” she said sweetly, lightly stroking her throat. As she passed Susanne’s room, she looked in and saw Michael kneeling by her side, clutching her hand. Rebecca knew then that she had lost him.

  *************************

  The baby was named Francis Newland. He was tinier than Laurence had been. In the drawing room, after Rebecca had changed into dry clothes, Davis explained how he had arrived about an hour before Rebecca, wishing to surprise her. Susanne’s labor had come fast and the doctor had just enough time to deliver Francis. But Susanne’s bleeding wouldn’t stop and she had slipped out of consciousness.

  Rebecca listened guiltily; her sister might have died while she lay with her husband, planning a future with him. Davis mistook her tears for relief that Susanne would recover and happiness to see him.

  Inside, her mind was screaming; she envisioned herself tearing at her hair, smashing, breaking, destroying everything she saw. But outwardly she showed no sign of the agony she felt.

  ************************

  Michael held Susanne’s hand while she slept. He had not seen his new son, too afraid that if he left her side, she would slip away. Susanne was so very pale. When she finally awoke, she looked at him, too exhausted to smile or reassure him. She just stared.

  He kissed her hand. “Darling, I was so afraid. I am so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he said through contrite tears.

  “Have you seen him?” she asked weakly.

  “No, not yet,”

  “He’s beautiful. He looks just like you.”

  Michael buried his head in her gentle hands. She stroked his head to comfort him. “I am so sorry,” he sobbed.

  “You are here now. Everything will be fine.”

  *************************

  The next morning, Rebecca rose early and tried to eat breakfast. But she could barely swallow her toast and finally pushed it away. She dressed and started downstairs where she could hear Davis and Michael talking in the drawing room. She pushed away the sickness
she felt in her stomach and descended the stairs.

  She heard Michael’s familiar footsteps as he crossed from the drawing room into the hall and stopped when he saw Rebecca on the stairs. There was only one last, unguarded look between them then the masks descended.

  “I hope you slept well,” Michael said.

  “Yes, very well.” She smiled knowing that she would survive this.

  *************************

  One week later, Rebecca’s monthly bleeding hadn’t begun and she still had no appetite. She knew that she would have to let Davis back into her bed.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  If there was a more excited father-to-be in England than Davis, no one could find him. For months, he had genuinely contemplated whether they should keep trying for a child or concede failure. No heir from Davis presented huge problems for his estate, especially with Johanna’s son, the next in line, living across the ocean.

  He had expected some chill from Rebecca when he first arrived at Elysian Fields, but he hoped it would be tempered by the surprise of his return and the gifts he brought. But he came to an Elysian Fields in turmoil, Susanne in labor and neither Rebecca nor Michael to be found. When Rebecca appeared, soaked from the rain, shaking from the cold and her hair a mess of wet curls, he was comforted by the tenderness he felt for her. He ignored the way his heart involuntarily leapt when he saw Michael.

  Rebecca seemed more flustered and bewildered than angry or cold. He attributed this to confusion surrounding Francis’ birth. She was quiet, absorbed in running the household, and helping to nurse Susanne back to health. Davis was proud of how she had stepped into the role of mistress of Elysian Fields while Susanne was confined to bed.

  For the first week, it felt like they were reacquainting themselves with each other. He could only stay a month; the war in the colonies was going badly. There was a document circulating from Philadelphia and signed by men who called themselves the Continental Congress, seizing power and declaring their own government. Johanna’s letters from Virginia seemed non-committal, but he knew that her husband now led the militia in his county.

  Then one night, he was awakened by the pressure of a body next to his. Rebecca was in bed with him, kissing and caressing him. “I have missed you, Davis,” she whispered in invitation. There was more passion in her touches than he remembered; she easily took what was hers. From that night on, she would use her room only for dressing.

  When he left for London, she decided to return with him and leave for St. Clare’s later. Susanne was still weak, but Michael hired an extra nurse and encouraged Rebecca to go with Davis.

  She slept part of the way to London, despite the difficult roads. She barely ate and he worried that she was becoming ill. But by the time he arrived at St. Clare’s in mid-November, he began to suspect something else.

  For her part, Rebecca was reluctant to verify anything until she was positive. So many times she had hoped only to be disappointed. She finally consulted her doctor who confirmed that Rebecca was indeed pregnant.

  Davis’ joy was tempered by the horrendous morning sickness Rebecca suffered daily. With the truth in the open, she didn’t hide the fact that the smell of food, any food, made her sick. The nausea would pass and she would try to eat, but it came again so quickly that it became common to see The Lady with her head in a chamber pot.

  Christmas was spent not in celebration of the holiday or their third wedding anniversary, but in bed with Rebecca too sick to move and Davis comforting her and applying cold compresses to her forehead to help alleviate the sickness. There were no special holiday treats as the smell of food even from the servant’s clothing could cause her to vomit.

  Then in January, it passed. One morning, Rebecca woke up ravenous and energetic. She made up for all the nourishment her child had lost in those first months and soon had a little belly to show for it.

  The delight in Davis’ eyes when he gently touched her belly tickled her. He was even more affectionate, tending to every one of her needs. When she craved peaches and they could not be found anywhere, somehow Davis found them.

  Her doctor at St. Clare’s had decided that the baby would be born in June. But Rebecca reminded Davis that her sister had a history of early labors and they should be ready before early May.

  It was a quiet Season for them. She and Davis attended the events required of them. Her friendship with Althea had cooled the year before when Althea had been caught up in a scandal involving a secretary to the French ambassador with bright red hair. Althea had disappeared to the country and returned to London, without the child, more chastened.

  There was, of course, speculation about Rebecca’s sudden pregnancy after so many years of marriage. But it was quiet and sparse as both she and Davis were well-liked.

  The morning of May 25, Rebecca’s water broke and the midwife, Mrs. Ballard, was called. Davis also sent for Susanne who would stay with the Edderle’s for a month while Rebecca recovered. Michael would leave shortly for Elysian Fields with Laurence and a nursing Francis would come with Susanne.

  Her labor started out easy, but the hours dragged on and the pain increased. Before the day was out, Susanne arrived and sat with Rebecca and Mrs. Ballard who declared that the baby did not seem in a hurry to be born. Her tone annoyed Rebecca who thought that Mrs. Ballard was indirectly accusing Rebecca of wasting her time.

  In the night, her discomfort increased. Rebecca felt like her spine was being ripped apart. Before, she had been able to stand and move into more comfortable positions. Now, any motion just caused more agony and she couldn’t leave the bed. Susanne remained at her side, wiping her face and holding her hand. She felt each of Rebecca’s contractions by the strength of her grip.

  The next day was worse. Despite the efforts of Mrs. Ballard, the baby still would not come. Rebecca was frantic and exhausted from the pain and effort. Davis finally called a doctor, but did not dismiss Mrs. Ballard.

  The first thing the doctor did was force brandy into Rebecca to calm her. She immediately threw it up, but enough seemed to have stayed in her empty stomach to have some sedative effect. Then he told Davis that he would need to deliver the child with forceps. Or he could wait and perform an operation, but in that event it was likely that one or both would die.

  When she saw the forceps, Rebecca became hysterical. With maids holding her arms and Susanne and Mrs. Bailey holding her legs, the doctor delivered the baby. Rebecca was grateful for the immediate loud, lusty cry, but when the doctor showed her the squalling baby, she was disappointed to see that it was a girl. Even in the haze of fatigue and pain, she knew that she had failed.

  Davis, though also initially disappointed, quickly fell in love with his daughter. She was tiny and pink with masses of black hair. Her eyes were darker than Laurence’s had been and he expected that they would be brown like her mother’s.

  “What will you call her?” Susanne asked.

  “I don’t know. We never discussed a girl’s name,” Davis answered.

  When they asked Rebecca, she answered firmly, “She is Ava Michelle.” Davis was pleased that his wife had chosen names to honor two of the most important people in his life, though one Ava would never meet.

  *************************

  Physically, Rebecca would recover, though her doctor strongly suggested to Davis that she not have another child. Her mental state was a different story.

  It began when she was unable to nurse Ava. That alone would not be a problem as a wet nurse had already been employed. But it added to Rebecca’s frustrating feeling of inferiority; Susanne had produced two heirs and nursed both easily.

  When Ava was first brought to her, she counted fingers and toes, examined the perfection, save for a mark on one cheek from the forceps, and felt nothing. She could not understand how she could go from the overwhelming joy of expecting a child to this emotionless state where she felt no connection at all.

  The doctor prescribed a concoction that he gave to his less-than-happy mo
thers; but Susanne consulted with Mrs. Bailey who she trusted more and encouraged Davis not to give it to her.

  For the first weeks of Ava’s life, Rebecca held her, talked to her, and then passed her off to the wet nurse, Davis, Susanne or anyone who would take her. Then she would turn to her side, curl up in a ball and sleep.

  She dreamt of her mother, Tristan, Michael, even her father. She woke up in tears. When Davis gave her an emerald necklace to celebrate Ava’s birth, she stared at it in the box, willing herself to feel something more than melancholy.

  One afternoon, she awoke to Michael sitting beside her bed. She blinked thinking she was still dreaming, but he was real. They had not spoken anything more than cordial filler words since that afternoon in September when they actually believed that they could run away together. Her eyes filled with tears as he took her hand.

  Neither spoke; there was nothing to say, nothing to explain, nothing to apologize for. She suspected that the visit was prompted by Davis, Susanne or both in an effort to cheer her.

  Rebecca did not sit up, but remained lying on her side, her hand in his as they cried together. “You chose the light,” she said finally.

  He nodded.

  When he was sure she was asleep, he put a package of letters in the drawer of her night table and left.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rebecca forced herself out of bed. She repeated over and over to herself that her child needed her. She took Ava into the gardens, letting what little sunshine there was rejuvenate her. She took walks in the park with Susanne, the nurse guiding the pony with the perambulator containing Ava and Francis. Susanne was chubby still, having never completely lost the weight from her last pregnancy. She had also developed a fondness for pastry. Rebecca, on the other hand, quickly shed what little weight she had gained and was soon dressing in her fashionable clothes.

  To keep moving forward, she planned Ava’s christening with Susanne, Michael and Martha as her godparents. Davis would have liked Johanna to be a godmother, but her distance made it impossible.

  Susanne held Ava over the font at the christening. The baby barely whimpered during the ceremony. When Susanne passed Ava to Michael, he held her for only a moment before giving her to Martha. He had already moved back to Elysian Fields and had only returned to London for the christening.