She ripped the letter open, hoping to gain some knowledge of recent events, and her shock grew. The woman the letter was from had been Samuel’s lover, it said, until just before Carla had become pregnant. Then his attentions had stopped. Elizabeth had gleaned from Samuel’s words and his glances at her that he was in love with Carla and Elizabeth had come to suspect that Carla’s child was his. To regain Samuel’s attentions, and to get Carla out of the way, Elizabeth had revealed certain information to Beatrice.
Carla clutched the letter once again, knowing that whatever she’d told Beatrice must have been half-truths because she’d only ever visited Samuel once and no other guests had been present; though she and Henry had held house parties before with overnight visitors. Carla looked around her, knowing she could not go back inside the house, but not sure where else to go. She’d made no friends she could count on and most doors would be closed to her once word of this got out. Even within her own family, doors would close in case Carla’s taint would somehow bleed over to them.
She cast about, trying to think of somewhere to find refuge and began to walk aimlessly. After fifteen minutes she paused as she realized where her footsteps had led her. She was standing in front of Samuel’s townhouse. Glumly, Carla realized that, yes, Samuel may very well be her only refuge, the last place she should go to but the only place where she knew she would be welcomed. Her child would soon be born and she needed a home. Only one person had offered her that since her husband’s passing. Bracing herself, she walked up to the door and knocked, knowing her future had already been changed, but that it would now change even more drastically.
Chapter 2
Carla sat despondently in the room now labelled as her bedchamber, staring out of the window at the snow-filled scene before her. She and Samuel had been married a little over a week now, and she could not bring herself to feel anything but sadness. Her child was due any day now and all she could think about was leaving, escaping the disaster she herself had created. As soon as the child was born and she’d healed, Carla was leaving and she was going to escape far, far away. She wasn’t sure how she was going to do that, but anything was better than being married again, and with a child whose future was precarious. The child would be better off left behind and raised as Samuel’s. Her presence would only burden the child with her ruin.
Word had spread that Carla had been evicted from her home, but nobody was quite sure why. The rumours were actually worse than the truth but she could refute none of them. Samuel had quickly taken Carla in and had insisted they marry within days of her flight to his home. She had agreed, but only in the hopes that this would obligate him to her child. She also knew that if she would not marry him, she could not stay in his home. Carla had wed Samuel but they had yet to consummate the marriage. She pled the burden of being with child and Samuel, dear sweet Samuel, had not pressured her about it.
Samuel really was sweet and seemed to truly love Carla. He bought her new clothes, provided her with all she needed, and was always around, hoping to make Carla comfortable. He made no demands of her and left her when she grew antsy; knowing his presence sometimes agitated her. Samuel was happy knowing that Carla was there and finally his bride. He thought he had a lifetime to help her fall in love with him, and knew he could break down the barriers that had surrounded the woman’s heart after all she had been through, if she would only give him a chance.
Carla, however, could not allow herself to soften towards Samuel. She knew that she had been the one who had made a bad decision, that it was her own fault she was now trapped in another marriage, and knew this was what she deserved. She’d had an affair, she’d planned to pass off another man’s child as her husband’s and knew she had to pay the price. But she could not face that future. She felt like a slave, bought and sold, plotted for and captured, and could not work up enough enthusiasm now to pretend a lie she’d lived for so long already; even with a new husband. She resented Samuel, resented herself most of all, and resented a system that only allowed women to be treated as chattel.
She stayed in her room most nights, refusing the few party invitations that came, because of her pregnancy, and listened to the gramophone and sound discs Samuel had bought her as a wedding present. The music soothed her mind and she daydreamed as the music played. She’d read books about faraway places that were always warm; Spain, Africa, India, and dreamed about life in those places.
Carla’s health declined as the days passed and soon she would not even leave her bed, only staring out of her windows, longing for sunshine on her face as she listened to the many recordings Samuel brought her, trying to bring her out of her misery. Then the night came when Carla’s pains started. Samuel quickly sent for a midwife and waited for three days as Carla screamed through her labour. The child was caught somewhere between her slim hips and would not be moved.
Samuel paced and went in to see Carla as often as the midwife would allow and towards the final day, he refused to leave, despite the protests of the midwife. His own wife was dying and if the child was not soon born, both would die. Samuel thought on the matter and quickly pushed the midwife out of the way. The woman obviously had no idea what she was doing and Samuel thought he might know a way to ease his wife of her burden, even if it harmed the child. He would not allow Carla to die. Other children would come, if that’s what she desired, but for now he had to help her.
Moving between Carla’s legs, he gripped the child’s legs as Carla’s body tensed once more, trying to expel the baby from her body. Samuel pulled down on the baby’s body, gently at first and then with more force. He could see it, tiny and lifeless-looking with her head still inside of her mother’s body. A girl, if Carla could deliver it. Samuel pulled again as another contraction started; Carla so exhausted she wasn’t even conscience anymore. Slowly, with each contraction and Samuel’s assistance, the child pulled free from Carla’s body and the midwife took over, cleaning the baby and Carla in turn. Samuel had time to see the baby’s squashed and discoloured face, and then he was forced out of the way.
Samuel heard the child’s cries as her air passages were cleared and was relieved that the child lived. Now if only Carla would make some sound, stir in some way, he would be able to sleep at last. Samuel had not slept since Carla’s travails had begun and he was exhausted too but unwilling to sleep. Samuel turned to watch the midwife place the babe at her mother’s breast but was saddened to see that Carla still did not move.
The next day, she was still not awake and Samuel sent for a doctor he’d heard about. The doctor had been able to cure women of childbed fever and Carla was obviously suffering from it now. He had the man sent for and soon the short-statured, balding man with a moustache and monocle shuffled into Carla’s chamber, looking the room over.
“Yes, we must have light, clean water that has been boiled then coiled, and a solution made with this chlorinated lime for me to clean your wife with. Have you a washing bowl where I can wash my hands to examine her? So many doctors now scoff at the suggestion that doctors should wash their hands, but this is how the infection is spread; I have seen it many times. Your wife will soon be better, Mr. Colebrook, if we can stop the infection. I’ll soon have her walking around and cooing to that baby, just you wait and see.” Dr. Weiss was an encouraging man, though small, and seemed to exude confidence that made a patient and their family members relax.
Samuel sent for the boiled water and the means for Dr. Samuel Weiss to wash his hands, and watched as he tenderly examined Carla. He poured a powder mixture down her throat, telling Samuel that the medicine was not widely accepted but that he used it on the few women that contracted the infection while in his hospital, and they were soon cured of the illness that threatened their lives. Samuel didn’t care what the man fed to Carla, so long as he cured her. Samuel left once the doctor ordered the maids to change Carla’s sheets for new ones and informed them the sheets needed to be boiled to be sanitized, and went to check on the little butterfly that was his daughter.<
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The child slept in his room, never far from him, and was quiet but putting on weight already with the help of a wet-nurse. Carla was not producing enough milk to feed the child, so he’d had a woman capable of feeding the child sent for. She was angelic, asleep in her bassinet, and the spitting image of Samuel. He was quite proud of his daughter but unwilling to name her until her mother woke up. He called her his little butterfly and gently brushed her cheek so that she would smile in her sleep, as she usually did. The baby calmly opened her eyes, smiled up at her father blearily, then went back to sleep, snuffling around for something to comfort her. Samuel picked her up and carried her into her mother’s room.
He often brought her into her mother, wanting her to know the woman when Carla finally awoke. He sat in a chair at Carla’s bedside and watched the doctor as he went through his routine. Samuel smiled as the doctor looked up and reached for the child to examine her as well.
“Yes, the child is fine. Weak, but alright so far. We’ll keep an eye on her, she’s had an ordeal as well hasn’t she? Keep her warm and fed Mr. Colebrook and she should be fine. Now, your wife is quite ill. She will need a few days of treatment but soon she should recover. From my examination, I would hazard a guess that she has not been rendered sterile but that is always a possibility. Only time can truly tell. But she should recover from this birth without any further problems, I’d wager.”
“Thank you, Dr. Weiss, I am truly in awe of your knowledge and skill.” Samuel extended a hand that wasn’t holding the baby and shook Dr. Weiss’s hand.
“Be sure to have anyone that touches your wife clean their hands, Mr. Colebrook; that is most important! The child as well, nobody should touch her with unbathed hands. Now, I understand you pulled the babe free? That was very smart thinking, Mr. Colebrook, very smart indeed! Not many men can say they’ve delivered their own children! And to do it without killing the child. I’m not sure why the midwife did not think to do that, but I would not recommend her in the future. Hire someone else. She obviously does not know enough about childbirth to know unwashed hands are the leading cause of childbed fever. Now, I will take my leave. I’ll be back in the morning to administer more medicine to Mrs. Colebrook. Call around for me should Mrs. Colebrook deteriorate. I do not expect that though so I will take my leave and get to my bed. Good night, Mr. Colebrook.” Dr. Weiss headed to the door with his bag in hand.
“Thank you again, doctor, I love my wife dearly and her health is all that matters to me. I truly appreciate your efforts.” Samuel said and the doctor waved away his praise, telling him to get some rest before he became a patient as well.
Samuel set up a pallet in the floor and slept by his wife’s side for the next two nights. Finally, she awoke from her ordeal and looked around quietly. Carla could not place where she was or why she felt so bad. She reached down between her legs and felt that something had been placed there. She was sore there and her stomach was quite sore as well.
She tried to stand up but became dizzy as she sat up. Looking down at the floor she saw a man there and screamed, having no idea who the man was but certain he should not be there. A maid ran in and the man jumped up from the floor.
“Carla! You’re awake! But why are you screaming my love?” The handsome man asked her.
Looking at the man in confusion, Carla spoke, “Who’s Carla and who are you? Where am I? And what’s happened to me? I feel as though I’ve been hit by a large wagon and as weak as a kitten. Have I been ill?”
Chapter 3
Carla had no memory of her past, of her present, and had no idea who any of the people, in what she was told was her home, was. The man claiming to be her husband, Samuel, was handsome but she had no memory of him. She’d obviously given birth to the child, her body had been through some kind of ordeal, after all, but she could not remember the pregnancy. She did not recognize the house, the servants, or even the street they lived on. She could not remember anything about her life before she woke up finally.
Dr. Weiss informed Samuel it must have been from the trauma of the birth, or perhaps something had happened to her mind during the ordeal. He was not sure and being a wise man, would make no certain claims because he didn’t have the means of finding out or the knowledge of the mind required to form an answer. He knew only that amnesia was possible, real, and that Carla was obviously suffering from it. Dr. Weiss told Samuel he did not know if Carla would recover, but had hope that she would and that was all he could tell the worried husband.
Carla was upset about not knowing anyone but faced it with a stoic resignation and strength. She fed her child now that she’d recovered enough to produce milk, played with her, and loved her as fiercely as she could. They’d named the girl Chloe, though they both continued to call her Butterfly because she was so delicate and tiny. Carla also continued to heal over the coming weeks and was now able to walk outside with her daughter in her arms and her husband by her side.
As far as Carla knew she had married Samuel for love, they’d had a long courtship, and had looked forward to the birth of their child with joy. She could not remember her melancholy but sometimes she’d remember staring out of her window and a tune playing. She asked Samuel about the music but he had no idea where she’d heard any of it, he told her. She didn’t either and soon dismissed the memories as her days were filled with relearning her husband and getting to know her child.
Samuel knew he’d lied to Carla but hoped if she ever regained her memory that she’d know now that he truly did love her and would forgive his untruths. They were happy and Samuel and Carla were eager to share a bed together again, but the doctor refused to allow her to recommence her marital duties until she was completely healed. He did not want her to risk reintroducing the infection or do any damage to the healing tissue within her body. Samuel understood, but Carla seemed to be impatient and she longed to be held in her husband’s arms without their clothing in the way, and to feel his hands on her aching body.
Carla had fallen in love with her husband over the weeks. His attentiveness to her needs was endearing and he’d only leave her when he had to go into his office. Every time he left, he brought her and Chloe presents when he returned. They read books together, discussed what they’d read, discussed events in the newspapers, talked and laughed, and played with their daughter. Their days were idylls marred only by Samuel’s trips into his office. She knew he belonged to a very rich steel production family and that he had obligations to meet so she did not complain, after all, his work provided for their family.
Carla loved Samuel’s laugh, the way his face would turn serious when they were having a debate on some matter, and how he always listened to her opinions. She did not think there was a freer woman in all of England nor a happier one. Her marriage was perfect, and she was content. Then the doctor came and told Carla she could resume her marital duties after inspecting her, and Carla knew her wish was finally going to come true. She’d prepared for the day, purchasing some French lingerie she’d seen in a shop window on an outing with Chloe and bathed, wanting her hair and body to smell nice, as well as following the doctor’s order to maintain hygiene. He’d been most adamant about bathing and washing one’s hands to the point that even the staff members were insisting on cleanliness in their own homes.
Carla had several candles lit in her husband’s bed chamber, put on the lace nightgown and peignoir, had her husband’s meal delivered to his room, closed the curtains at the window and waited. He was soon home, and stood in his bedroom door in awe at the stunning woman before him. Carla’s dark brown hair rested gently at her exposed breasts, her cleavage on display above the dark red lace, and her body recovered from her ordeal. Her hips were still a bit plump and there was a softness to her body where one might expect sharp angles but that softness only enhanced her beauty. Samuel felt his body reacting to the sheer beauty of his wife, and knew he’d be missing dinner, for a little while at least.
He moved to the bed where Carla was stretched out and tou
ched a curl resting against her right breast. Her skin was pale, almost translucent and Samuel worried his attentions could harm her delicate health. Carla saw the concern mar his features and brushed her hand across his forehead, wiping away the worry.
“I’m fine, I will be fine, so don’t worry my darling, just love me, please? I need to know what I’ve been missing all these weeks. I don’t remember this part of our past either and I feel like a schoolgirl, so nervous and excited, like it’s my first time all over again. I hope I can please you.” She whispered to him, nervousness making her voice shake.
“It will be perfect, Carla, just like you. I only hope I can please you. I’m nervous as well.” He kissed her then, his full lips resting gently against her own. Carla enjoyed the feel of his lips pressed against hers and opened her own to take a breath. She was shocked when Samuel softly pressed his tongue between her lips, apparently taking her movement as an invitation, but accepted his intrusion. She slid her tongue along his own, unaware of what she should do but following her own instincts. Samuel encouraged her exploration with a groan and a tightening of his fist in her hair.
Samuel’s movement did not hurt Carla, she rather felt she had a power that she did not know she possessed when his hand tensed in her hair. She enjoyed the feeling the sound gave her, the pleasure that came from her insides tensing, and knowing that she’d made him make that noise. She wanted to do it again but was unsure of what else to do. Instinct told her to touch him and she reached out a hand, cupping his face as he kissed her.
Carla moved her hand down his neck, over his chest, exploring what made the hard muscles beneath his shirt tense, learning that a finger brushed over his flat male nipples caused his breath to hitch in his throat and made his hips jerk. She removed his shirt, wanting to touch his skin, and used her mouth to cover his chest and neck with her kisses. Carla tasted his skin, felt the silkiness of it with her tongue, and took her time learning her husband’s body.
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