Resolve stirred within Kate. They obviously loved each other, and she would not stand in the way of them being together. It wouldn’t be right.
Someone grasped her sleeve and she turned.
“What are you doing?” Aunt Louisa tugged her toward the wall.
Kate stifled a gasp.
“How could you encourage Edward to dance with that woman?”
Kate pulled her arm out of her aunt’s grip. “Please stop. I’m sure you don’t want to create a scene.”
“I will do whatever it takes to make you wake up! That is Florence Piedmont. Edward has had a fixation on her for years, but she is totally unsuitable.”
“I know who she is, and I know what she means to Edward.”
“Then what are you thinking!”
“I was thinking they are very fond of each other, and they would enjoy dancing together. Is that so hard to understand?”
“You foolish girl! How could you push Edward into her arms?”
“Please stop lecturing me. I know what I’m doing.”
“If that were true, you would have an engagement ring on your finger, and we would be planning your wedding!”
Fire flashed through Kate. “That’s enough! You will stop this tirade, or I’ll leave at once.”
“Don’t speak to me in that tone!”
Kate leaned toward her aunt. “I want to make myself perfectly clear. If you say one more harsh word, I will summon a cab and go home on my own.”
“Katherine Ramsey, you will apologize this instant! I will not put up with this nonsense any longer. You will listen to me and do as I say, or I—”
Kate spun away. The rest of her aunt’s comments faded into the music as Kate crossed the ballroom and strode out the door.
TWENTY-FOUR
Kate slowly climbed the main staircase toward her bedroom, relief and regret battling within her. Releasing Edward and confronting her aunt had sealed her fate. She doubted she would receive any more invitations, and even if she did, she had no desire to accept them.
She was done with the season. Tomorrow she would speak to William and Julia, explain what had happened, and ask how soon she could return to Highland.
Just before she reached her bedroom, hurried footsteps pounded down the servants’ stairs at the end of the hall. Kate looked up.
Lydia ran toward her. “Miss Katherine! The baby’s coming, and Helen is in terrible pain. We have to send for the doctor.”
Energy pulsed through Kate, and her mind shifted into action. “Wake Julia. I’ll fetch Mrs. Adams. I’m sure between the four of us we can do what’s needed for Helen.”
“Please hurry, miss!” Lydia turned and ran back up the steps.
Kate opened her bedroom door and tossed her bag and shawl on the bed. There was no time to change. She hurried downstairs and found Mrs. Adams resting in her small parlor next to the servants’ hall, with her feet up and a damp cloth on her forehead. Kate quickly relayed the news about Helen.
Mrs. Adams plucked the cloth from her forehead and sat up. “I’m afraid I’m not well.”
Panic shot through Kate. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. It might be the flu. Whatever it is, I don’t want to give it to Helen or the baby.”
“No, of course not. I understand. Lydia and Julia are with Helen. I’ll go up and see what I can do.”
“Birthing a baby is a natural process. Just watch over her. She should be fine.”
Kate hurried up the three flights of stairs to the servants’ rooms. As she started down the hallway, Helen’s pain-filled scream rent the air. A tremor raced down Kate’s back.
Jean and Ruth, the two kitchen maids, stood huddled together in the hallway. “Is she going to be all right?” Jean whispered.
“Yes. I’m sure she’ll be fine. Please go back to bed and get some rest.”
The girls exchanged worried glances, but they turned away and walked across the hall.
Kate paused and tried to focus her thoughts. Dear God, please give me courage. She opened Lydia’s door and entered. A lantern on the bedside table illuminated the small, simply furnished room. Helen lay on the narrow bed, her eyes closed, face flushed, and her hair a tangled mess. She moaned and tossed her head. Julia stood on one side of the bed, and Lydia on the other.
Lydia looked up at Kate, her eyes wide and anxious. “Is Mrs. Adams coming?”
Kate shook her head. “She’s ill.”
Concern flashed in Julia’s eyes. She rinsed a cloth in water and wiped Helen’s face. “There now. Just rest between the contractions as much as you can.” She passed the cloth to Lydia and whispered something Kate couldn’t hear. Julia met Kate by the door.
“How is she?” Kate whispered.
“Let’s step out for a moment.” Julia opened the door and slipped into the hallway with Kate. “Lydia says she’s been in labor for several hours, but she’s no closer to delivering the baby. I think we should send for Dr. Pittsford.”
Relief coursed through Kate. “Yes. I’m sure he’ll come.”
“I’ll let William know, then I’ll go down and speak to Lawrence. We’ll send the chauffeur to Dr. Pittsford’s with the message.” Julia glanced toward the bedroom door, then at Kate. “Do you have any experience helping a woman in childbirth?”
“No.” Kate swallowed, hoping she could find the strength to face this challenge.
“It’s not an easy experience for the mother or those watching, even when everything goes well. Are you ready for that?”
Kate straightened, determination flowing through her. “Yes, I am.”
Julia touched her arm. “When the baby arrives, it will be a blessed relief. For now, do what you can to calm Lydia and comfort Helen. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“All right.”
Julia turned to go, then looked back. “Pray for Helen, and do what you can.”
Kate’s throat tightened. “I will.”
Jon sank back in the comfortable chair and stared at the quivering flames in the Pittsfords’ fireplace. The quiet crackle and hiss soothed his weary mind. He needed some relief after the extra hours he’d put in at the hospital and clinic these last few weeks. He’d filled his schedule, hoping it would ease the ache in his chest, but it had only drained him physically and barely dulled the pain of missing Kate.
Dr. Pittsford lit his pipe and settled back in his chair. Mrs. Pittsford sat beside her husband, her knitting needles clicking in her nimble fingers. Their daughters, Beth and Lucy, had excused themselves to wash the dinner dishes and clean up the kitchen.
“Two more donations came in today. Along with your grandmother’s gift, that gives us enough to start the renovations.”
Jon looked up and met Dr. Pittsford’s gaze, replaying his words and trying to focus on the conversation. “So … we’ve received enough donations to start the renovations on the children’s center?”
Dr. Pittsford nodded.
Mrs. Pittsford lifted her gaze. “Are you all right, Jon? You seem distracted this evening.”
“I’m sorry. I just … have some things on my mind.”
Dr. Pittsford puffed on his pipe and studied Jon. “What’s bothering you?”
Jon hesitated, uncertain if he wanted to explain his personal troubles.
Mrs. Pittsford’s knitting needles stilled. “Perhaps if you tell us what’s weighing you down, it will lighten your load.”
Jon shifted his gaze away. It would be humbling to admit he’d hurt his sister, damaged his relationship with his future brother-in-law, and ruined his chances with Kate. But as he looked back and met the doctor’s gaze, he had a feeling that was exactly what he needed to do. “If you don’t mind listening, I could use some wisdom.”
“Have at it, my boy, and we’ll do our best.”
Jon poured out the story, explaining William and Julia’s reactions to Kate’s injuries and his reasons for leaving Ramsey House. After he had finished, he sagged back in the chair, feeling spent.
&
nbsp; Dr. Pittsford took his pipe from his mouth. “So you love Kate, but you’ve decided not to propose … Why is that again?”
“Well … I believe the Lord has called me to Daystar, and William has forbidden Kate to set foot in the East End. I can’t just disregard his decision and pursue her against his wishes. He’s going to marry my sister in a few weeks.”
“That does make it a bit more complicated.” Dr. Pittsford drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I understand why William is hesitant to let Kate come here after what happened, but—”
“I’m afraid he’s right. I can’t marry Kate and bring her to the East End. I’d be constantly worried about her safety. And even if I didn’t have those concerns, Kate was raised in the country surrounded by wealth and privilege. I doubt she’d even consider a proposal from a medical student who wants to serve the poor.”
Dr. Pittsford frowned. “How do you know? You haven’t even asked her.”
Mrs. Pittsford laid her needles in her lap. “Are you afraid of what she might say?”
“No, I’m not afraid! I love Kate, and I think she may feel the same way about me. But that doesn’t mean we should marry. There’s much more to be considered.”
Mrs. Pittsford studied him, compassion in her eyes. “That’s true, but to find someone you love and who loves you, that’s a precious gift.”
Jon’s throat tightened and burned. “Yes, it is, and that’s why I have to think of what’s best for Kate, and I’m not convinced that includes a life on the East End.”
Dr. Pittsford sat back and gazed into the fire. “When Martha and I considered moving here and opening Daystar, we had some very long discussions. One of our main concerns was our daughters’ safety. We didn’t want them to be fearful of our neighbors or those we serve at the clinic. But we also had to be realistic about the dangers they might face.
“We prayed together and wrestled it through for a few months,” the doctor continued. “Finally the Lord confirmed His will to both of us, and He gave us His peace.”
Mrs. Pittsford’s gaze softened as she looked at her husband. “We believe we’re called here, and we’ve entrusted ourselves into His care.”
Dr. Pittsford pointed his pipe stem at Jon. “That doesn’t mean we’re careless or we take unnecessary risks. He expects us to be wise and responsible. We must do our part, then trust Him to do the rest.”
Mrs. Pittsford looked at Jon, her expression confident and peaceful. “The Lord doesn’t promise us we’ll never face difficult or dangerous circumstances, but when we do, He promises to walk with us through them. Remember that, Jon.”
He pondered Mrs. Pittsford’s words, letting them sink in deep. They rang true and reminded him of comments his parents had made about their decision to serve in India. Could he trust God like that, not only with his own life, but also with Kate’s?
Dr. Pittsford studied Jon. “Your concern for Kate’s safety—that’s the main reason you haven’t proposed?”
“That, and the fact that she’s almost engaged to a man named Edward Wellington. He’s the oldest son of a wealthy earl with a large country estate.”
Mrs. Pittsford tipped her head. “What does Kate think about him?”
“I don’t know. I’ve hardly seen them together, but her aunt says the engagement is going to be announced as soon as the families agree on the details of the marriage settlement.”
The doctor’s expression lightened. “So she’s not officially engaged?”
Jon shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Well then, don’t you think she’s worth fighting for?”
“Yes, of course … but I’m not sure William would allow it, or if Kate even wants to marry me.”
Dr. Pittsford grinned. “Don’t you think it’s time you found out?”
A knock sounded at the front door.
Mrs. Pittsford glanced at her husband. “Goodness, I wonder who that could be at this hour.”
Dr. Pittsford rose from his chair, crossed to the door, and pulled it open.
James Hardy, the Ramseys’ chauffeur, touched his cap. “Good evening, Doctor. I have an urgent message from Miss Foster.” He handed the note to the doctor.
The doctor invited Hardy in and read the note. He looked up. “Helen is in labor. Julia is concerned she’s not progressing as she should. She wants me to come.”
Mrs. Pittsford rose from her chair. “Would you like me to go with you?”
“No, my dear, you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you stay here with the girls?” He turned to Jon. “Would you like to come along?”
Jon stood. “Yes sir.”
“All right, then.” The doctor took his bag and hat from the bench by the door.
Jon followed him out, his thoughts rushing ahead to Ramsey House. Surely with Dr. Pittsford’s skill and experience they could help Helen bring her baby safely into the world … and, Lord willing, he might even see Kate.
That thought spurred him on, and he hurried after the doctor.
Kate poured water into the bowl on the nightstand next to Helen’s bed and glanced at the small clock. Eleven-fifteen. Where was Dr. Pittsford? Surely Hardy had delivered the message by now.
Helen’s pitiful cries had grown weaker, and Julia’s tense actions conveyed her growing concern. Lydia scurried from one task to the next, trying to find some way to comfort her sister.
Kate approached Julia. “Shall I go down and get some more water?”
Before Julia could answer, the door opened. Dr. Pittsford strode in, with Jon close behind him.
Relief poured through Kate. “Thank goodness you’ve come.”
Jon shot a quick glance her way, then he followed the doctor to Helen’s bedside. Julia explained Helen’s condition and what they’d done for her.
The doctor listened carefully as he observed Helen. He took out his watch and lifted Helen’s hand to check her pulse. “Ladies, I’d like to examine Helen. Would you step out for a moment please?”
Julia guided Lydia toward the door. Kate followed them, but before she crossed the threshold, she glanced back at Jon.
He looked up and met her gaze. Affection flowed from his eyes, and her throat tightened. She returned a look she hoped he could read as easily, then she slipped out the door and pulled it closed.
Julia laid her hand on Kate’s arm. “I want to give William an update.”
Kate nodded. “We’ll be fine. Go ahead.”
Julia hurried off down the hall. Beyond the closed bedroom door, Helen issued a pitiful, moaning cry.
Lydia shook her head. “I don’t understand it. Our mother had seven babies, and she never had trouble like this.”
Kate clasped her hands and focused her thoughts. “Dr. Pittsford and Jon will know what to do.”
“But she’s so weak.” Lydia’s eyes flooded. “I’m so afraid for her, miss.”
A tremor passed through Kate, and she reached for Lydia’s hand. “Let’s pray for Helen.”
“Yes.” A flicker of hope lit Lydia’s expression. She tightened her grip and lowered her head.
Kate closed her eyes tight. Fearful thoughts rushed in, threatening to steal her words, but she pushed them away. “Dear God, please take care of Helen and help her deliver her baby. Be with the doctors, and show them exactly what to do. Help us trust You to take care of everything. Thank You for hearing our prayer. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
“Amen,” Lydia whispered.
Kate looked up, then blinked in surprise. Jon stood beside her. She hadn’t heard him join them, but she could tell from the look in his eyes that her prayer had touched him in a special way.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
Lydia turned to Jon. “How’s Helen?”
His expression grew sober. “Dr. Pittsford wants to take her to St. George’s. The baby is breech. Helen may need surgery.”
Lydia bit her lip and glanced at Kate.
“I’m sure the doctor knows what’s best. What can we do to help?”
Before Jon could answer, William and Julia hurried down the hall toward them. Jon explained the situation, and within minutes, Dr. Pittsford, Jon, and the two footmen carefully carried Helen down the main staircase on a stretcher they had made from a sturdy blanket. The men eased Helen into the backseat of the waiting motorcar.
Dr. Pittsford turned to William. “Jon and I should go with Helen. Perhaps the chauffeur could return and bring Lydia after?”
“Yes, of course.” William gave instructions to Hardy. The chauffeur touched his cap. Dr. Pittsford checked on Helen once more.
Kate looked up at William. “I’d like to go with Lydia when Hardy returns.”
William hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”
Julia laid her hand on William’s arm. “I could go along as well. I’m sure we’d be a comfort to Lydia.”
His expression eased. “All right.”
Kate’s gaze followed Jon as he circled the motorcar. He looked back at her one last time before he climbed in next to Dr. Pittsford. She lifted her hand, and the motorcar sped off into the night.
But unlike the last time she’d watched a car carry him away, Kate’s heart overflowed with hope.
Kate glanced up at the clock on the waiting room wall and leaned back in the hard chair. They’d been here almost two hours, but still no news of Helen and the baby.
Lydia sat beside Kate, staring toward the dark windows. Julia walked across the room and picked up a newspaper sitting on an end table. Two anxious, expectant fathers waited in chairs at the opposite side of the room.
Lydia fiddled with a loose thread on the sleeve of her sweater. “Why is it taking so long?”
Kate looked her way. “I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.”
“But isn’t there someone who could tell us something?”
Julia laid the newspaper aside. “I suppose I could go and see if—”
The door swung open, and Jon walked in wearing a surgical gown over his clothes.
Kate held her breath.
A smile broke over Jon’s face. “Helen delivered a beautiful girl. They’re both going to be fine.”
The Daughter of Highland Hall Page 32
