Colin's Conundrum: A Steamy 19th Century Romance (The Victorians Book 3)

by Simone Beaudelaire

  He's just as handsome as Colin, Daisy thought, blushing as she watched him make sense out of the vague comment. In fact, they could be brothers, but it's clear Mr. Bennett has lived a more comfortable life. Wait, does that even make sense? He's a man of business. He works hard every day. Why does he resemble a gentleman of leisure when Colin, who has a noble title, is more haggard than a laborer?

  “Do you mind if my wife remains here?” Colin asked. “Being around a stallion who is uncomfortable in an unfamiliar environment in the noisy city could be dangerous.”

  “And yet,” she interjected, “you want me to walk with him for three days to your estate. Will that not also be dangerous?”

  He regarded her without speaking again. “Do you have another option?”

  “I do,” she replied. “I have no great desire to walk and walk until I wear my boots out. Is there a train that crosses your estate?”

  “Near it,” he replied, “but I will not be able to buy tickets.”

  “I will,” she volunteered, “for us and your horse.”

  “You might want to save your money,” Colin suggested.

  “I'll decide what to do with my money,” she snapped.

  He shut his mouth, blinking.

  Daisy's face heated as she realized that she'd not only been rude, she'd done it in front of their host. Our squabble is not Mr. Bennett's business.

  “Very well,” Colin agreed. “If you give me the money, I'll arrange it, all right? There's still about an hour's walk once we disembark. Will that suit you?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly, and then let silence fall.

  A short time later, Colin departed, the promised banknotes in his pocket. Daisy took a seat in the Bennetts' library, appropriated an interesting-looking book and tried to lose herself in the story. Distraction overtook her every time she began to settle, filling her mind with useless, pointless ruminations.

  A moment later, the door opened, and Katerina lumbered in, holding her belly with one hand. She made her way to the bench of an unadorned, black pianoforte set in the center of the room and took a seat. A moment later, glorious music poured from the instrument, raising the hairs on the back of Daisy's neck.

  When the impromptu concert ended, Daisy said softly, “That was lovely. What was it?”

  “Chopin,” Katerina replied. “I didn't realize you were here. I do hope I didn't disturb your reading.”

  “Not at all,” Daisy replied. “I couldn't have concentrated to save my life. Everything has been so topsy-turvy lately.”

  “I know what that's like,” Katerina agreed. “Thankfully, I've come through the fire and now, I only have normal-people problems, like how to get these two babies on the outside before I topple.”

  Daisy regarded her hostess skeptically. Katerina didn't look like someone who knew intimately about the travails of life. She looked like a dark-haired fairy princess, willowy and serene.

  “Oh, don't look at me like that,” Katerina said, her voice grumpy. “I'm blessed now, but once upon a time… well, let's just say that not all fathers are created equal.”

  “Tell me about it,” Daisy moaned. “I believe my father conspired to have me assaulted so he could force me to marry the man he chose, a man I hate. I might be fortunate that the result is I'm stuck with Colin, who seems quietly to despise me. The alternative is much worse.”

  Katerina frowned. Then she drew in a slow, deep breath and released it over a long course of moments. “Sorry,” she said at last, panting. “That hurt a lot. I'm sorry to hear it. Mine assaulted me directly.”

  Daisy's jaw dropped. “He… he did what?”

  “Beat me,” Katerina admitted freely. “With anything he could find, including his fists. I have scars you would not believe. Good thing they're mostly hidden. Let reassure you that marriages can be happy, even when they begin with disaster. Lord Gelroy is a good man. He's been a family friend since before I entered the family, and he's dear to me as a brother. He's just had a very hard life. If you can get into his heart, I think… I think he'll be a good man to love. Oooh.” Another pain tightened Katerina's belly, and she closed her eyes. This time, her slow exhalation sounded like a moan.

  “I say, Mrs. Bennett, are you all right?” Daisy asked, concern growing.

  Katerina held out one hand in a 'stop' motion and continued her low moaning, pausing only to snatch a quick breath before continuing as more than a minute passed.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered as it passed. “No, Lady Gelroy, I don't think I am.”

  “Is it time to summon the midwife?” Daisy guessed.

  Katerina nodded, her eyes pinching in the corners.

  “Shall I help you to the settee first?” Daisy offered.

  “I'd rather not,” Katerina replied, her voice raspy. “I want to get to my bed.”

  Daisy found the bell cord and rang for the cook-maid, who appeared in record time.

  “Please send for Mrs. Turner,” Katerina rasped the moment a young, brown-haired woman poked her head into the room.

  “Shall I help you to your bedroom then?” Daisy suggested.

  “Please,” Katerina agreed, hoisting herself uncomfortably to her feet. Immediately, another pain took her, and she swayed.

  Daisy hurried to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her.

  Katerina pressed heavily on Daisy, moaning loudly in her ear. This time, the low toning rose in pitch until it was nearly a scream. She sobbed, breath catching as the pain clenched down on her.

  Helplessness consumed Daisy. She could do nothing to ease the moment, only prevent her new friend from falling into a pregnant heap on the floor.

  The moment the pain passed, Katerina moved. “Come on,” she urged. “I only have a short time before the next one begins. Please help me.”

  Nodding, Daisy supported Katerina out of the music room and carefully up the stairs.

  “Hurry,” Katerina urged. “I don't want to get stuck here!”

  They made it safely to the top, and Daisy stared in dismay at the matching doors all up and down the hallway. She recognized the guest room in which she'd slept, but the others remained a mystery.

  A door opened, and Christopher popped his head out. “What's going on?” he asked.

  “It's begun,” Katerina replied miserably. “Help me. Aaaaaah!” She wailed and lurched toward the wall, leaning against it with both hands while she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Your servant has already gone to call for the midwife,” Daisy informed Christopher as he approached his wife but paused beside her, bewildered.

  The pain eased and Katerina launched herself into her husband's arms. “It hurts,” she whimpered.

  “I know, love,” he murmured. “I know. I'm so sorry. It will be over soon, and our babies will be here. You'll get to meet them. Only, you have to endure a little longer.”

  His tender words caused Daisy's heart to ache. My husband will never flutter around me, desperately trying to be strong while worrying about me. “We should get her into the room,” Daisy suggested. “I think she needs to be in a place where she can sit or lie down.”

  “Yes, yes,” Christopher agreed. With one swift movement, he scooped his wife into his arms, unconcerned with the hefty weight of her belly, and carried her through the door. Daisy lingered in the doorway, uncertain whether she should enter or excuse herself as her host laid his wife on her bed.

  Katerina immediately rolled onto her hands and knees, moaning low and deep again. This time, she seemed better able to control herself through the contraction. The moaning sounded purposeful, not hysterical, though her eyes looked wild.

  A door slammed downstairs and feet thundered on the treads.

  Christopher, hurried out of the bedroom, calling, “Mrs. Turner! Thank God!”

  The woman, a pretty, brown-haired lady who looked to be around fifty, hurried into the room, a simple black skirt clutched in one hand. “How long has she been feeling the pains?”


  “Hard to say,” Christopher replied. “She doesn't know either.”

  “I talked to her in the evening,” Daisy added. “They kept interrupting her, but they didn't seem to bother her then. This morning, she wasn't even able to talk or walk.”

  “I would guess since early yesterday, probably, but she has so many, has had so many, that led to nothing,” Christopher added.

  “Not unusual.”

  “We're not early, are we?” he asked. “I thought it might be another couple of weeks.”

  “It might, but her body has decided it's had enough, and that's that. A couple of weeks rarely poses a problem.” She reached the bedside and laid her hand on Katerina's forehead.

  Lurking in the doorway, Daisy could see the worry on the woman's face.

  “Is everything all right?” Christopher asked, peering into his guest's face.

  “What?” The woman shook her head and dragged off her hat, tucking it under her arm. “No, I'm fine. I'm just… just concerned because my apprentice isn't available today. That's always the way it goes. Twins to deliver and I'm on my own. Would you like to buck convention, Mr. Bennett, and assist me with your wife's delivery?”

  “Um…” Christopher trailed off, then visibly steeled himself and squared his shoulders. “What must I do?”

  At that moment, a little girl with dark hair and huge brown eyes stuck her nose into the room. “Papa? Is anything happening? I heard strange noises.”

  “Oh, God,” Christopher muttered, adding a couple of muttered curses Daisy could barely make out before he addressed his daughter in a hearty, cheerful voice. “Everything is fine, Sophia.”

  “So much for that idea,” Mrs. Turner quipped. “Go to your daughter, Mr. Bennett. She's no fool, and you should care for her.”

  “But my wife…”

  “I'll manage.” Mrs. Turner scanned the room as though looking for help to appear, and her eyes locked with Daisy's. “You there. Who are you?”

  Christopher snorted. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you. She's… a guest. We'll explain the rest later.”

  “Any chance you might like to assist me?” the woman suggested.

  It's an absurd suggestion that I assist the midwife. “Would Mrs. Bennett consent to having me in the room? I'm nearly a stranger to her, and I have no training whatsoever. I've never assisted with the delivery of anything bigger than a puppy.”

  Mrs. Turner's dark eyes lit up. “You've watched animals deliver?”

  Daisy nodded. “Barn cats and my father's hounds. The hounds sometimes needed a bit of help.”

  “You'll do. All I need is someone to soothe the mother, and then to provide another set of hands when the babies need holding.”

  “I'll help if she allows it,” Daisy decided. “I'd like to be of use.”

  “Excellent,” Christopher said. “Come, Sophia. Let's talk a bit.” He escorted his daughter away.

  “Come along then. Um, what is your name?”

  “Daisy… um… Butler,” she said, completely muddling her introduction, as she had nearly forgotten her new last name.

  The woman looked at her sharply, seeming to react to the name. “Daisy. I'm Elizabeth Turner. You might have guessed, I'm the midwife.”

  “I did guess,” Daisy agreed. “You should know that I only met the Bennetts yesterday. Mrs. Bennett might be uncomfortable with me being there.”

  “If she's as far into her labor as I think she is, she probably won't worry about it in the slightest. We'll ask.”

  “All right.”

  “Mrs. Bennett? Katerina?”

  Katerina's unfocused gaze turned toward the midwife. Her low toning stopped, and she drew in a deep breath, her shoulders sagging.

  “My apprentice is not able to join us this evening, but your guest, Mrs. Butler…” a strange note sounded in her voice as she spoke the name Daisy scarcely recognized as her own, “is willing to help. Do you mind?”

  Katerina turned to Daisy, finally focusing her eyes. “Yes, that will be fine. Please, will you come?” she extended a hand. “I'm… I'm afraid.”

  “Now, don't be,” Mrs. Turner huffed. “I'm here. I'll be sure nothing bad happens to you.”

  “I know, I know,” Katerina replied, “but it hurts.”

  “Take a seat beside her,” the midwife ordered Daisy, digging in her bag and pulling out a folded square of simple cotton fabric. “Hold her hand. Maybe sing to her. She likes music. Um, do you sing?”

  “About like average, I suppose,” Daisy replied. “Would that help you, Mrs. Bennett?”

  Katerina nodded. Another pain clamped down her belly, and she began her soft toning once again.

  Daisy took the note as an indication of what key the laboring mother found most soothing, and began a quiet rendition of “Scarborough Fair,” which was the only gentle song she could think of that had lyrics she could remember.

  Meanwhile, Mrs. Turner had tugged Katerina's undergarments from her body and hiked her skirt up, tucking the pad under her hips. “Has your water broken yet?”

  Katerina didn't answer, intent as she was on her coping strategy. She held Daisy's hand loosely, but her focus remained inward.

  “Is she all right?” Daisy asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Turner replied. “Given her reactions, I'd say she's near the end. This shouldn't last long at all. Especially not since she's given birth before. Twins are often small, and so the actual delivery shouldn't unduly strain her.”

  “Ugh,” Katerina grunted, falling limp against the pillows and rolling to her side. “I hate lying on my back.”

  “You don't have to,” Mrs. Turner replied. “Choose any position that feels comfortable to you.”

  “I have better cloths,” Katerina added. “In the bureau.”

  Daisy released her new friend's hand and opened an ornate, darkly-stained bureau to reveal a stack of cotton squares dyed in a myriad of unusual patterns.

  “Scraps,” Mrs. Turner explained, “from the cotton mill. These will work nicely.”

  Another moan. This one began to sound hysterical. Daisy hurried back to her side and tucked her hand into Katerina's. The woman's grip turned harsh, crushing Daisy's fingers.

  “No, Kat,” Mrs. Turner scolded in a sharp, almost angry voice. “That screaming will only make you hurt more. Keep moaning low. It works better.”

  Katerina obeyed. Her grip on Daisy's fingers loosened.

  Daisy considered what to do next. Her songs had fled, and they clashed with Katerina's tone more often than not anyway. Instead, she pitched her voice to the same note and began to rattle off Shakespeare. “ 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' ” Rather than the usual intense inflections with which she infused her recitations, she kept her murmur like a drone, only providing a counterpoint for Katerina to consider.

  The pain eased, and Kat squeezed Daisy's hand gently.

  Daisy looked into her eyes. Her friend shook her head slightly.

  “What do you mean?” she whispered.

  “Probably she'd like you to stop. At the end of labor, a woman goes deep inward. Some want to be distracted, but… It seems Mrs. Bennett doesn't. I'm not surprised. Artists often have a place inside themselves where they can retreat.”

  “Is that it? Shall I stop talking while you're… busy?”

  Katerina dipped her chin.

  Daisy considered apologizing. But for what? We're all fumbling through this, all but Mrs. Turner. She patted Katerina's hand. Because her gaze was still locked on the other woman's face, she saw the next surge come over her with a worried furrow of her eyebrow. Then her face went slack. Her eyes lost focus. Her hand clamped down hard on Daisy's. She gritted her teeth and snarled. It wasn't a fearful sound but rather a powerful one, filled with strength and intention.

  From her position, lying on her side, Katerina drew her knees up and bore down.

  An audible splash sounded.

  Katerina whimpered.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Mrs. Turner apologized. “Yo
ur first baby is head down and already emerging. Kat, I know you won't like this, but I think it's best for you to deliver more upright. Daisy, can you help me?”

  The two women moved side by side to assist Katerina into a kneeling position over the cotton padding. Her skirt fell around her.

  Daisy could immediately see that this would not do. She opened the buttons up her friend's back and urged the fabric up. Katerina cooperated with an irritable raising of her arms. Then, clad only in a short shift that had been altered to stop just above the massive swell of her belly, she leaned forward, gripping the bedposts in her hands for support.

  Though she tried to respect Katerina's privacy, Daisy couldn't look away from the tableau of feminine strength before her. Though Katerina seemed fragile before, in this moment, a look of determination tightened her jaw and eyes.

  Pain gripped her anew, but this time, she didn't sink into it. She used it. Used it to power herself as she bore down, snarling.

  They shouldn't call it a pain, Daisy realized. Maybe the ones that came before, but not this. This is pure strength. It impressed her. Do I have that spirit in me? Could I also call on my inner beast, the ancestors of all women, and engage in the drama of birthing new life?

  Though she could scarcely imagine it, she knew what she was seeing was true, and could be true for her as well.

  Time lost meaning. It stretched with Katerina's body as she bore down, bringing her child closer to the outside world, and hurried on swift wings between the surges as she rested. One last push, with a screech like a wildcat, and Mrs. Turner reached between Katerina's bare thighs to cradle a small head fuzzed with dark hair.

  “Excellent!” she encouraged. “Next one, we'll have this baby out.”

  Katerina's body tightened again, and a naked, messy infant slid into the midwife's capable hands.

  Katerina sagged.

  “Daisy, I'd like her to stay upright,” Mrs. Turner ordered. “The second twin has a better chance of staying in position if she doesn't lie down.”

  Nodding, Daisy scrambled onto the bed and laid her hands on Katerina's hips. This time, she could feel the woman bear down, and a mass of slimy redness dropped onto the bed.

  “Oh, dear.”