The boy went pale, swaying a bit with fear. “Outside her room.”
“Daniel, you must listen to me. I need you to be the man of the house in your father’s absence. Can you do that for me?” Ella tried to do what she always had done—take charge.
His voice shook, but the boy rolled his shoulders back with resolve. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“First, go to your grandmother’s room and tell her I need help. Then do the same with the housekeeper. Tell her I require clean bandages and hot water immediately. Tell Mr. Lucas to send for the midwife. Do you have all that?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“I am counting on you, Daniel.” She was off at a run, never looking back, knowing the boy would do her bidding.
Seconds later, she turned the corner leading to the hallway of the family quarters. “Oh, my God, Georgina.” She motioned for a footman who was coming up the stairs to follow her.
James’s sister lay in a wet heap on the floor. Ella knelt by Georgina’s side, not knowing where to begin. The footman rushed forward. “Get her into the bed,” Ella ordered as the bulky servant lifted her almost-sister from the floor. Rushing forward, Ella led the way into the room as the man gently put Lady Amsteadt on the bed and then left.
Lady Linworth half-staggered into the room, sleep and shock making her look years older and frailer than Ella imagined her to be. This family had lost James’s wife to childbirth; now they all feared losing his only sister too. Ella could not let that happen. “Will she?” Camelia Kerrington whispered.
“I do not know,” Ella looked about, trying to figure out what to do first. “You and I,” she told Lady Linworth, gripping the woman’s hand tightly, “must do something now, or it might be too late by the time a midwife or a surgeon gets here.”
Camelia wavered for a split second, but then moved to her daughter’s bedside. “Tell me what to do.” She placed all her trust in Eleanor Fowler.
“Let us help Georgina out of her corset and stays.” Ella said a quick prayer so she might make good choices. James’s sister was unconscious, but she breathed normally, and that seemed positive.
“Her water has broken,” Mrs. Mooreton, the housekeeper, attested as she came to help. “Here are the smelling salts.”
Once they settled Georgina against the pillows, Ella waved the pungent spirits under Lady Amsteadt’s nose, and the woman came around, although she was still a bit groggy. “What happened?” she seemed confused.
“The baby is coming.” Lady Linworth wiped Georgina’s face with a damp cloth.
Fear crossed her daughter’s eyes. “It is too early!” Georgina protested.
“It will be fine. Eleanor and I will take care of you.”
Georgina turned her gaze fully on Eleanor. “Save my child,” she stated flatly. “Do you hear me, Lady Eleanor? Save my baby.”
A minute nod of Ella’s head gave Georgina the comfort she needed. Relief played across her face; the woman had accepted her fate. Ella swallowed hard, afraid she could not change what was happening. If Georgina lost her life, it would kill James. Ella would lose him to his grief. “Let us make you more comfortable,” she began to arrange the pillows. “We will need to move you to the birthing chair soon. It seems to me that a walk would speed this up and help our chances. Are you willing to try, Georgina?”
“Anything you say, Lady Eleanor. My life is in your hands.”
CHAPTER 12
“WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THIS?” Ella exclaimed as she helped Lady Linworth undress Georgina.
Lady Amsteadt looked at the linen sash fastened about her middle. “It is a Tansy Bag. The midwife at home insisted I wear it. She and Thomas feared the journey from Devon too strenuous on a woman so far advanced, but I needed to come. Father and all.” Ella nodded her understanding. She would have done the same even for William Fowler.
Removing it, Ella laid the poultice on a nearby table. “Tell me what the midwife said of the bag.” Besides being curious about the herbal medicine, Ella wished to keep Georgina Whittington’s mind from the situation.
“Mrs. Woodson, the midwife, swore the bag would stop a miscarriage if a woman was frightened somehow or there was some other accidental cause.” Georgina took several deep breaths. “You do not think the bag hurt my child, do you, Lady Eleanor? I would die if my foolishness has caused me to lose this child.”
Ella braced Lady Amsteadt’s back as her mother slipped a muslin gown over her daughter’s head and shoulders. “I cannot believe you could do anything foolish, Lady Amsteadt,” Ella assured, although she privately wondered about the folk remedy. She smoothed the woman’s hair from her face as she removed the pins holding the chignon in place.
“It is just that Mrs.Woodson told me to wear the sack from time to time, sometimes in the morning and sometimes at night.” Ella noted how fear returned to Georgina’s face. “I thought, you see…” She caught Ella’s hand tightly.“I thought if sometimes was good to prevent… to prevent a miscarriage, using the bag every day in the morning and at night would make my chances better.”
“Nothing you did was wrong,” Lady Linworth declared. “Do not go on so, Georgina.”
Tears misted the girl’s eyes. “But what if it was wrong, Mama?”
Ella took control. “Besides a good handful of leaves of tansy, was there anything else in the sack?”
“Nothing…I swear by all that is holy; there was nothing else in the sack, Lady Eleanor. We just sewed the leaves in the sack of gill and heated it upon a warming pan. Then I laid the bag across my navel,” Georgina’s voice rose with the recitation.
“Georgina, listen to me.” Ella cupped the girl’s face in her hands, forcing James’s sister to look directly at her. “Lady Linworth and I will let nothing happen to this child.You must believe me.”
For elongated seconds Lady Amsteadt stared deeply at Ella. “I believe you, Lady Eleanor.” Ella prayed she had not made the mistake of promising something she could not deliver. However, it seemed important to win the girl’s trust until help came.
As Ella picked up the discarded clothing about the room, Lady Linworth came up behind her and whispered, “Could the treatment have hurt Georgina?”
“Probably not the tansy leaves, but maybe the heat,” Ella murmured. “Truthfully, I have no idea. Do you suppose the midwife will come soon?”
“I pray so,” James’s mother continued. “What do either of us know of delivering a child?”
Ella thought things could not get worse, but when word came that the local midwife tended to the birth of twins in the next village and the nearest physician had left for London yesterday, she bit back the desire to scream in frustration.
They correctly settled Georgina on the bed rather than on the birthing chair, although Lady Amsteadt swore the pain increased to the point of delivery. “What are we going to do?” Lady Linworth pleaded as she caught Ella’s arm.
Ella forced herself to smile although she had not a clue as to what she was doing. True, she had once read a medical text, part of which was on giving birth, but that was several years ago. Also, while her father convalesced, she had seen her share of animals being born on the estate.Yet, she, like Lady Linworth, was a genteel lady. What did she know of childbirth? “We are going to deliver Georgina’s baby.” She stated the obvious, praying James’s mother would take the lead, but Her Ladyship looked to her for guidance. “Help me position Georgina to give birth to her first child.”
The countess nodded her understanding. They prepared the birthing chair for later, prepared additional bandages, and laid out medicine available from the estate’s housekeeper.
Not surprisingly, the earlier walk and the movement triggered Georgina’s urge to push, and the girl let out a blood-curdling scream, causing her mother to shudder with gut-wrenching sobs while Ella flinched with shock. “Georgina.” Ella’s tone demanded the girl’s attention. “I need for you not to bear down and not to hold your breath when the pains come.You must breathe as normally as possible. If you push
before the baby is ready, you will hurt it.You must let it come naturally. Can you do that, Georgina?”
“I will do what is necessary for this baby, no matter what it takes.” It crushed Ella to hear Georgina hint at her own demise.
“Lady Linworth, you hold Georgina’s hand and keep sponging her face with the water.” Ella firmly pressed against Lady Amsteadt’s abdomen, examining it for its fullness. “It will be a while.” She did not know that to be true. Somewhere Ella remembered hearing stories of women spending several hours in childbirth; her own mother claimed nearly seventeen hours in delivering Brantley. It seemed important to ease everyone’s distress by pretending everything was normal.
“Eleanor is correct, Georgina. I spent close to ten hours waiting for you,” Camelia confirmed. Lady Linworth’s agreement gladdened Ella. Maybe her instincts would prove her capable, after all.
Six hours later, Georgina still gritted her teeth and worked her way through the birth process. Ella took to timing how long the discomfort lasted and how long between the spasms. Again, she had no reason to do so; it just seemed natural. The pains were now between ten and twelve minutes apart, according to the mantel clock, down from twenty minutes when they had first carried Lady Amsteadt into the bedchamber.
“Is there not someone else to help us?” Lady Linworth whispered, close to where Ella stood. They changed out the water used to bathe Georgina’s face.
“I have my maid in the kitchen taking care of the water and medicine if we need it. However, none of the household staff wishes to be held responsible, as your daughter is a month early in the delivery. They fear Elizabeth’s fate.” Ella wrung out the cloth they used, preparing to return it to Georgina’s forehead.
Lady Linworth sighed deeply. “So do I.”
“We will get through this; you and I are strong. Your husband says we are very much alike. I do not plan on giving up on Georgina, and neither will you. As with your daughter, we will do what is necessary, no matter what it takes.”
“I am so thankful that God placed you in this house at this moment. I could not have done this alone.”
Ella thought about what had happened to her in the last month, and she knew she would suffer it all again with a glad heart if it meant her presence at Linton Park would make a difference in saving Georgina Whittington’s life. Ella smiled slightly, admiring the older woman. “I beg to differ, Lady Linworth.You do not have to be alone. I am here, and we will save your child and her child.”
Bran reluctantly answered the room’s door. He had drunk too much during the evening and had been abed less than two hours, but he staggered to where the sound came. When he released the bolt and cracked the door, a sliver of light assaulted his eyes, and he squeezed them closed.
“Fowler,” James Kerrington’s voice came from the near-darkness of the inn’s passageway. “I am leaving.”
Bran eased his eyes open, letting the light in a little at a time. “Leaving? What time is it?”
“About four.” James lowered the candle to take away the light’s sting.
Bran looked confused. “Four? Why so early? Cannot stay away from my sister?” Bran’s alcohol-saturated mind could not think seriously.
“No, not exactly.” James paused in his explanation. “There is just something—something is not right—a gut feeling. I cannot shake it. We have always listened to our instincts.”
Bran shook his head to clear it. “Levering do you suppose?”
“I do not know; I just need to go.You will deal with things in London?”
“It is done,Worthing. You may be assured of it.”
James shook his head, already moving to leave. “I will see you soon.” Then Worthing disappeared into the darkness, taking the light from the candle with him.
Within minutes, Bran heard the carriage’s rattle in retreat. He crawled back into the bed, pulling the blanket up over his head. He would rise in a few hours and return to London. The more he thought of the possibility of Levering being in Derby, the less likely he considered the notion. Worthing simply missed Eleanor and wanted to start his new life. It was a nice dream; Bran knew it too. In fact, he suspected that each Realm member held like desires—a chance to find love and happiness. Thoughts of Velvet Aldridge renewed these prayers in him, and Bran welcomed his favorite dream of the dark-haired beauty.
“Lady Eleanor!” Daniel pounded on his Aunt Georgina’s door. “Help, Lady Eleanor!”
Ella, exhausted by her constant vigil over Georgina’s bed, reeled in place before jerking the door open. “What is it?” she snapped, not disguising her high dudgeon with the newest interruption and then regretting snapping at the boy.
Daniel stepped back, momentarily stung by her tone, but he shot a glance toward the earl’s room and plunged ahead. “Grandpapa is getting out of bed. He says he wants to see for himself what is happening; he will not listen to me.”
“I will go.” Lady Linworth’s drained spirit came from behind Ella.
Ella looked closely at James’s mother—the woman’s appearance was fagged and haggard. “If the Earl sees you, it will worry him. Neither of us has much color, but your husband will notice it more on you. Besides, you have a calming effect on Georgina. I will tend to His Lordship.” Motioning to Daniel to lead the way, Ella followed the boy to his grandfather’s room. Her frustration and her fear increased with each step, and by the time Ella reached the earl’s room, she exploded. “What do you think you are doing, old man?”
A man used to having people at his beck and call, Martin Kerrington stood less than three feet from his bed, a satin robe sashed tightly around his waist. Her words inflamed him. “I am to see my wife and daughter,” he snapped aristocratically. “I will ask that you not try to stop me, Lady Fowler.”
If the earl wanted highborn, Ella would match his high-toned pretentiousness with some of her own. “That is right,Your Lordship. Hobble your way to Lady Amsteadt’s room, and allow your loved ones to worry for your demise. They have no other concerns than you at the moment. Make Lady Linworth feel guilty for choosing to stay with her daughter right now rather than to hold your hand. Please do come to your daughter’s bedchamber. Obviously, if you are able to stand on your own and to maneuver your way to Georgina’s room, you are feeling better.Your wife and I could use your help.”
“Who do you think you are?” he flared.
“I am the woman who is trying to save your daughter’s life and that of your second grandchild. If you will excuse me,Your Lordship, I have no time or energy to tend to your bruised ego. Do us all a favor: Return to your bed. Let your grandson tend you as I have asked him to do. Allow Lady Linton and me to concentrate all our energies on Georgina’s well-being. When we know anything, you will be apprised.” Ella’s hands now fisted on her hips, and her chin rose in defiance.
Martin Kerrington leaned on a cane, but he made no other move as they spent the next few minutes daring one another to say anything else. “Bloody hell,” he grumbled, turning toward the bed. “Did Camelia teach you that stance or does it come naturally to you also?” he called over his shoulder.
Having expected James’s father to continue to argue with her, Ella needed a second shake of her head to clear her thoughts. She stuttered, “I…I suppose it is natural.”
Jerking the blankets back, the earl motioned to Daniel to come support him. “I will need to warn James about your temper,” Kerrington said flatly. “You might match his mother in intensity.”
“I will take that as a compliment.” Ella made an amused, halfhearted curtsy to leave.
“Lady Eleanor.” His voice held her in place, returning to a more familiar address. “Please give Camelia and Georgina my love. Daniel and I will offer special prayers. Will we not, my Boy?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Ella rotated slowly to his voice, happy to have won the battle. “It will be my pleasure to convey your affection to your loved ones, my Lord.” She curtsied again and then slyly sidled up to the boy whom she would soon call h
er son. “Master Daniel,” she draped an arm over his shoulder in an act of conspiracy and of apology for her earlier reaction, “if His Lordship chooses to ignore all our best advice, you have my permission to wrestle him into submission.” With that, she swept from the room, the sound of Daniel’s laughter and the earl’s sputtering drifting through the open doorway.
“Thank God, you are back.” Lady Linworth seemed relieved although Ella had been gone less than ten minutes. “I think she is ready.”
Ella simply moved to where she could support Georgina’s weight, helping the woman to the birthing chair, a weird-looking contraption designed to place a mother in a better position to deliver a baby naturally. Settling her soon-to-be sister in a very unladylike position, Ella half-laughed at how much she had changed in the past month. If she had not spent an intimate night with James Kerrington less than two evenings ago, the current scene might have shocked her. However, now she took it in stride, realizing that the human body was not a tool for evil.
The contractions now only minutes apart, Lady Amsteadt screamed and began to push, her hands clutching at the straps on the wood-armed chair. A flush of blood told Ella that Georgina’s time drew near.
“Breathe,” Ella ordered as she moved to where she could assist the baby. Camelia Kerrington tried to soothe her daughter’s brow.
“Another one,” Georgina gasped and gritted her teeth. Jaw locked tightly, she held her breath and concentrated her energy on the pressure between her legs.
Less than an hour of sweat and anxiety brought them to the delivery. Georgina was early but not so early that it was impossible for Lady Amsteadt to survive. The child was a different story. So, expecting the baby’s head, Eleanor watched in morbid curiosity as a miniature hand, arm, and shoulder appeared. “Oh, Lord, no!” She felt the panic coursing through her veins. What could she do now? The baby could not survive such a delivery, and they had no way of surgically removing the child. They might lose both mother and child.
The Scandal of Lady Eleanor Page 23