Then Bethan rose and joined her hand with Elunid’s limp one. “I will fetch you some thread. I have some squirreled away for just such an emergency.” She shot a look over her shoulder at Polly, who nodded her head and lumbered over to her sewing basket. Elunid laid her hands on the wall hanging of a knight on his charger on a background of blossoming fruit trees.
“I think I have some as well.” Maggie rummaged in her basket.
“They will not like it,” Elunid repeated, hoarse with desperation. “I have seen them, crawling up the gaping hole of hell. They cannot scale it, and their nails fill with hell’s ashes.” She beetled her brows at Bethan. “The perfect shade of Satan’s punishment is hard to find.”
“Stop, sister, you will frighten the children. You must work on something else.”
Bethan turned to Maggie. “I can distract her for a while, but there are certain givens in this situation, and one of them is she must have thread. I will go to town this afternoon.”
She put her hands on Elunid’s shoulders. “Where is your needlework cloth?”
Elunid pressed her lips together. “I mustn’t tell, sister. They said I must bury it and be ashamed, for it did not honor them.”
“You buried it?” Bethan grabbed her cloak and put it on her twin. “We must find it, for you have spent many hours toiling.” She exchanged glances with Maggie. “Our absence will allow you some privacy to tend to Polly.”
“Wait,” Henry called. “I will accompany you.”
“No, we can manage alone.”
“I’d be happy to help.”
“It’s best if we go alone,” Bethan said. “She behaves better.”
“She’s probably right,” Adam said.
Henry grabbed his cloak and draped it over Bethan’s shoulders. She glanced over her shoulder, and his hand stilled. Elunid began to hum in a hoarse monotone, words indistinguishable.
The children lifted their heads as one. The youngest put his head in Katherine’s lap. “Never mind, boys,” Katherine soothed.
“Come, my dear. Lead me to where you buried it.”
Adam rose and kissed his wife upon the cheek. “We must get back to work.” He motioned to young Adam. “Come, lad. You can help us today.”
“Can I, Da?” He rose, remembered his manners, and turned to Maggie. “Good day, Mistress Maggie.”
Henry rose. “Thank you for the delicious tea, mistress.” He tapped George on the shoulder.
“Thank you, Mistress McCall.”
Polly smiled, nodding her head graciously.
Maggie stood for a moment, breathing in the harmony. Despite the sheer number of children in the small space, there existed a sense of everything in its place and everyone knowing their worth. It spoke to the child within her who still yearned for unconditional love. Indeed, it was a feeling akin to the peace and comfort the holy nun had given her when she’d needed it most.
But she had not come to see to her own wellbeing. Polly needed looking after. “Katherine, would you mind keeping your brothers occupied while I examine your mother? We must see how the baby is doing.”
Katherine nodded, eyebrows creased in concentration and back straight. “Yes, Mistress Maggie. Boys, I will fetch the cup and ball Aunt Bethan brought us.” She reached up onto a shelf and retrieved the toy, then took the children to the far corner of the room. The dog curled up by the fire and watched them.
Maggie smiled at Katherine’s imperious tone and motioned Polly over to the corner where a pallet lay, covered with an embroidered spread. “Lie down, and we will see how your baby is doing.”
Polly chuckled. “Lie down in the middle of the day? I feel like royalty.”
“And indeed you are for the moment.”
She soon had the young mother lying in comfort with a pillow under her hips.
“Ah, it feels heavenly.” Polly sighed.
“You should do this often. It is good for you and the babe.”
“With four children and an ungainly sheepdog?”
“I see your point.” Maggie laughed.
She knelt and pulled Polly’s skirts up, while at the same time draping a blanket over her legs to preserve her modesty. Then with both hands, she felt her stomach, searching for the babe’s body parts. She pushed her fingers lightly at the top and received a responding kick from the babe. “Good morning, little one,” she exclaimed.
“He is active, isn’t he?” Polly grunted as her massive belly undulated.
Maggie palpated the mound again, feeling a bump here, a bump there. Oh. It might be a knee, or perhaps an elbow. A rump, and another kick under Polly’s ribs, and a kick low, right above her privities. A kick up above and a kick down below? No babe could manage those contortions, unless it was a monster.
Anxiety sat like a clump of ice in Maggie’s stomach; what if the babe were monstrously malformed? It happened, and with the constant worry of Elunid’s activities, distress could play a part in harming the child. She’d never seen it, but had heard of it from the old midwife, and countless others.
No, how foolish of her. There were just too many body parts for one child, so it must be—she lifted her hands off Polly’s belly.
Polly lifted her head. “Is something amiss?”
“No, not at all.” The wonder of it! And how extraordinary Ian had given her the model of the twins this very day. A warm breeze entered her, melting the ice in her stomach as the spirit of the holy nun visited her, and the words, “All is well,” echoed within her.
She placed her hands upon Polly again, closed her eyes, and saw two babes within their mother’s womb. One lay with its head at the top, the other’s head lay at the bottom. They were curled together, legs crossed at the ankles, thumbs in their mouths. The two umbilical cords pulsed between them.
As quickly as it came on, the vision cleared when the back door opened, and little Thomas wailed.
“Shame on you, Peter,” Katherine scolded. “Give Thomas back the toy.” She stood over the boy, with crying Thomas perched on her narrow hips. “Now.”
The three-year-old handed the toy over to Thomas and eyed his sister, who held a rag doll in her hand. “Here,” she said, sounding beleaguered.
Maggie usually brought a treat for the children, and today was no exception. She reached into her bag and gave each of them an orange. Peace reigned again as they sat at the table, and the smell of oranges wafted over to the two women.
Maggie put Polly’s clothing to rights. “Why do you not close your eyes for a moment and enjoy the respite?”
“It will last only as long as the oranges do,” Polly said. “I have the most fearful dyspepsia when I lie down. Have you anything for it?”
“Yes, I will give you some meadowsweet to steep as a tea. And it’s no surprise you do. I have made a discovery, Polly.”
Polly’s eyes popped open.
“You are carrying twins.”
Her face blanched. “Two babes?”
Katherine appeared with a piece of orange in her hand. She forgot her dignity for a moment, and hugged Polly. “Two? Oh, Mother!”
“Twins.” The color began to bloom in Polly’s face like a newly opened rose. “Oh my.”
“They seem healthy,” Maggie said. “And I see no reason for concern, other than you must rest more.” In truth, delivering twins was always fraught with difficulties, and these babies seemed huge in comparison to the other set of twins she’d delivered this year.
“I will help you, Mother! I pray they are girls. I need sisters.”
Maggie reached into her basket again and handed Katherine two more oranges. “Would you peel these for your mother? One for each baby.”
Katherine giggled and handed her mother the orange piece. “I forgot. This is for you, Mama.”
“Thank you. You’re a good lass.” A look of affection passed between mother and daughter, and a longing rose within Maggie for her mother who had died in childbirth so long ago. She held her hand upon her stomach. She would be a mother like Polly.<
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Katherine skipped over to the table.
“Poor girl,” Polly said. “She is already doing the work of a full grown woman.”
“I think she enjoys helping you. She seems a happy girl.”
“And old beyond her years.”
Maggie helped Polly sit up. “I will have my husband make you a tonic to strengthen you and the babes.”
Polly said, “I don’t know why I am so shocked, when twins run in the family.”
“Speaking of twins, it must be a bit wearing to have them here.”
“It is both helpful and wearing. Bethan deals with Elunid; she always has. The burden falls on Bethan. I must admit it is a bit worrisome, because we never know when Elunid will become…unhinged. And I must say she does frighten the children at times.”
Just then, Adam and the boy came in, letting in a gust of cold air.
Katherine ran to her father. “Father, Mother has two babies. I do hope they are girls.”
He stood stock still. “Pardon?” Henry and George stood behind him, wearing identical looks of shock.
Polly came up to him, placing his hands upon her stomach. “It is crowded in there. With two.”
He took a ragged breath and then rallied round, embracing his wife. “Wondrous! How clever of you, dear Polly!”
Thomas, the soon-to-be dethroned king of the family, pawed at his mother’s skirt.
Adam lifted him into the air and swung him around, much to the boy’s uninhibited delight. “You will not be the baby of the family for long. Best prepare yourself, lad.”
Soon the other boys gathered round for their share of roughhousing, giving Maggie a chance to speak with Polly. “Now, remember to rest when you can, and send your husband for my sister or me if anything changes.”
“I will be visiting you in the next day or so, and my most hearty congratulations.”
“Thank you, Mistress Maggie.”
As Maggie stood on the threshold, Bethan and Elunid walked up. Bethan whispered in Elunid’s ear, an arm around her thin shoulder. Elunid clutched a piece of cloth in her hands and nodded as Bethan spoke.
Bethan seated her in the chair by the fire. “Are you feeling better now, dear?”
Elunid nodded.
‘Good then. Here is the thread, and I will go into town this afternoon to get more.” She turned to Maggie. “Do you mind if I walk with you?”
Henry, who’d been rubbing his chin as he watched the scene, cleared his throat. “Miss Owens?’
Bethan glanced up, cheeks coloring. Maggie had never seen the girl color before. “Yes?”
“I would be happy to give you both a ride in my wagon.”
She gulped. “Your night soil wagon? I do not think…”
Henry cocked his head, a glint in his eyes. “Clearly this lady looks down upon me for doing an honest day’s work,” he stage whispered to Adam.
Bethan held her hands in fists against her dress. “Well, I only meant you do gather shite…’
Polly gasped. “Bethan. Your language.”
Bethan tossed her head. “What else can one call it?”
“Da and I clean it every morning, Miss. It hardly stinks at all.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Bethan’s mouth. “Well, the sooner I buy thread, the better.”
“Don’t worry, Bethan. I’ve ridden in it many times, and it was not unpleasant,” Maggie said. “And I would appreciate a ride to the Siren Inn. I need to see how Lena fairs.”
Before long, the four of them set off toward town, George perched in the back of the wagon on a piece of burlap.
Maggie sat next to Henry on the narrow bench, with Bethan hunched up on the end, braced for disaster, it seemed. She held a handkerchief over her mouth.
Maggie tilted her face to the sun. “Mild day, is it not?”
“Yes, even as we worked last night, we were quite comfortable.”
“It is all the more pleasant for being fleeting. Do you not think so, Bethan?”
Bethan’s eyebrows knit above panic-filled eyes. She nodded.
“Never known you to be speechless before.” Maggie nudged her playfully.
The horse stopped short before the bridge.
“Easy, Clyde.” Henry turned toward the two women, brushing a black curl out of his eyes. “He’s a bit bridge shy. Mayhap he sees how silly it is to be there, as there’s no water under it anymore.”
He leaned over and caressed the bay’s neck, rumbled endearments in a deep bass. Bethan gulped and slowly lowered the handkerchief.
It was plain to see. Bethan would very much like to be the horse right now.
“Ready then?” Henry gave the horse’s neck a gentle pat and the wagon moved forward. “Easy now. Easy.”
He tended to the road then, veering around a pothole. “So, Miss Owens, your sister is a talented seamstress. What is your talent?”
She scowled at him. “Must one have a talent? Is it not enough for one to be a good person, to be kind?”
The reins went slack in Henry’s hands. “I did not mean to offend, mistress. I was just curious.” He peered sideways at her. “Despite my lowly occupation, I do like to make conversation.”
“He talks all the time,” George yelled above the rumble of the wagon.
“Bethan has many talents,” Maggie said. “She plays the pianoforte quite beautifully. A pity Polly doesn’t have one.”
“Indeed, I would like to hear it,” Henry rumbled.
“I must confess I will miss it while I’m here,” Bethan said. “But Elunid has been keeping me quite busy of late, so I wouldn’t have time to play it in any case.”
“Miss, I consider the caring of a family member with such tenderness to be a rare talent indeed.”
A blush rose from Bethan’s neck to her forehead. “She is my twin,” she whispered. “I could do nothing less.”
“She is dark and you are light, like a full moon,” George said. “E’en though you look the same.”
“What a clever boy you are, George.”
“Oh no. I am stupid.”
At this, Bethan turned full around in her seat. “Who says so?”
“Some of the children.”
“Well, you mustn’t listen to them, for it is they who are lacking,” Bethan said forcefully.
“Thank you, mistress.”
The rest of the way into town, Maggie made a mental list of what she and her sister Sarah would need to do to deliver Polly safely. Certainly they would have to visit her more often, every few days at the very least. She did not carry the babes low yet, but things could happen quickly when twins were involved. How in the world could she and Adam house so many people?
She wondered what Ian would say when she told him about the vision. How miraculous to have seen the babes within the womb. She lifted her face to the sky. Thank you, Holy Mother.
They soon arrived at the Siren Inn.
“Thanks very much for the ride.” She meant it, for in truth, her foot pained her, as it tended to do after a long morning.
Henry headed for the other side of the wagon. Before he could assist Bethan, she scrambled out of the wagon, murmured a thank you and farewell to Maggie, and headed up the street toward the notions store.
Maggie shook her head in amusement. Bethan behaved very oddly indeed. Perhaps the strain of caring for her sister affected her? No, this was something else entirely. She eyed Henry, who stood with his hands on his hips, watching Bethan stride down the street until she disappeared out of sight.
As Henry helped Maggie out of the wagon, a group of customers scurried out of the old inn.
“What’s come over the man? He’s gone balmy.”
“How can I enjoy a tankard if he’s spouting such nonsense?”
“Let’s go to the Shipwreck Hotel.”
What had transpired? She had seldom seen a customer leave the inn unhappy. Her stomach growled. The babe within demanded food, and soon. As she entered the ancient inn, the scent of roasting meat and the comforting ar
oma of ale and pipe smoke enveloped her.
Josef leaned toward a customer, wiry arms folded on the counter. “I tell you man, you must beware. The horror I’ve seen in my native land would bring a man to his knees. I have brought this evil to our village. We sprinkled the seeds, but I fear it may not work, and he will rise. I must go watch the grave tonight.”
Chapter Seven
Clearly Josef had taken no heed of Ian’s warning to keep still about the circumstances of his nephew’s death. He topped off a sailor’s ale and slammed it on the scarred but polished counter. The amber liquid splashed in the sailor’s sunburned face. He gave Josef the gimlet eye. “I paid to drink this, not wear it,” he yelled.
“Shut your gob, man.”
What possessed Josef? This was worrisome indeed. Of all the inns in King’s Harbour, the townspeople flocked here, in big part because of the food and Lena’s excellent ale, but also due to the even-tempered, albeit taciturn Josef. He had a way of tamping down the embers of conflict before they flamed, making the Siren Inn a convivial place to be.
“Josef, I see you are back at work in earnest. You must be tired after such a long journey.”
He shook his head. “What does it matter, when I must write my sister and tell her Nikolaus is dead?”
The seaman nodded to Maggie in a pronounced manner indicative of the very drunk. He eyed her with great appreciation. “Lass, care to bide a spell with me? I’ll tell ye a story. Ye can even sit on me lap.” He leaned toward her, foul breath blowing like an ill wind.
She was used to this type of behavior; her look of contempt usually dampened a man’s ardor faster than a fishwife could gut a haddock.
Suddenly, Josef lunged over the counter and grabbed the man’s shirtfront, knocking over his ale. The room grew silent.
“Does she look like a doxy to you?” He growled. “This is a respectable lady, and I’ll thank you to stay clear of her, you poxy scab of a bastard.”
The sailor stood, swaying, and looked about for his comrades, she guessed. Finding himself alone with no reinforcements, he sat back down.
Was Josef so altered by grief and fatigue, he had forgotten his responsibilities as proprietor? She would have to intervene.
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