The Fall of a Saint

by Christine Merrill

  ‘This one will do nicely, once it has been gutted and redone,’ she said, glaring at him. ‘Do not give me that look as though you do not know the problems here, for it is plain that you do not like it either.’

  ‘I will admit to no such thing,’ he said, glancing at Upton as though to remind her of the need for manners. ‘It is my boyhood home, you know.’

  ‘And I do not wish to stay another night in it.’

  ‘We will return to London in a week, or perhaps less,’ he said as reasonably as possible. ‘But I doubt Evelyn will encourage you to travel at this time. And you must remember that you have a guest.’ He rolled his eyes upwards. Then he went white as a thought occurred to him. ‘Or does he mean to take you away...?’

  So the idea that she might leave with Richard had struck him dumb. She wished that she felt well enough to enjoy the fact, but now he was grabbing at her arm. She was sure that if she tried to leave, he would restrain her.

  Then another pain took her and she stood gasping for a moment, forcing out words in short, breathless sentences:

  ‘I sent Richard away.’

  ‘He came into my room.’

  ‘Through a passage in the wall.’

  Her discomfort went unnoticed, but the words caught his attention. While his expression did not really change, she saw the impassive mask drop away as he stared into her face. ‘He what?’ She could feel the muscles beneath his coat sleeve tensing as though he was preparing for a fight.

  She caught her breath again. ‘He entered my room without my permission. I do not even allow you to do so.’

  The duke had always been a tall man, but he seemed to grow even taller with outrage at the offence to her. His arm was as taut as a bowstring, ready to let fly. ‘And where is Colver now?’ There was murder in his blue eyes and his smile was thin, angry and very, very real.

  She would remember to be thrilled by the response, but later, when she was not so preoccupied. She could feel the next pain, waiting, only moments away. ‘I do not know. The servants have probably removed him by now. But I dealt with him myself. Some things in my room were broken.’

  ‘Things?’

  ‘A paperweight, a mirror, some assorted crockery. I was upset,’ she said, gasping as though she was about to be pulled underwater. ‘It took some time to perfect my aim.’

  His lips twitched. Then he said, very softly, ‘I think I was very fortunate that the rooms in Dover were devoid of ornament. I deserved a thrashing that night.’

  The pain took her again and her next words came out in a squeak. ‘You deserve one now, for you are responsible for the miserable state I am in.’

  ‘The state you are in?’

  ‘You dolt.’ This time, the pain was strong enough that she lost her breath and could barely mouth the words. ‘If you ask Evelyn...she will tell you more than you want to know.... It has been nearly nine months and two weeks since Dover.’

  ‘They said soon,’ he agreed.

  It was a shame that a man who was so beautiful could be so dense. The pressure had eased a little and she took a breath and spoke again. ‘Two weeks too long. I have been ready for at least a month. But the baby waited until now.’

  ‘Now?’

  She clutched the desk as the pain subsided and her knees went weak. ‘Now. But that does not mean that I will forget the inadequacies of this abomination of a house.’

  ‘Now.’ He seemed fixated on the one word. ‘We must get you to your room immediately.’

  ‘You are not listening to me,’ she said, slapping him on the biceps. ‘I do not want to go to my room.’ She dug the nails of her other hand into the wood of his desk, both for support and because she was afraid he would send her away before she could finish what she was saying. ‘I hate my room. I will not go back there. It is full of broken glass.’

  ‘One of the guest rooms, then.’ He reached for her arm again, trying to guide her away from the matter at hand.

  ‘The whole wing is ridiculous. Rooms upon rooms. All leading to each other. Secret passages and lovers like mice in the walls.’ The pain took her again and she started to double.

  She got a brief look at Upton, who was still in the room with them, caught between amazement and terror.

  She balled her fists and pounded them against the rigid muscles of her stomach, begging them to loosen.

  But the duke’s hand caught hers, pulling her back into his chest, wrapping himself around her in a protective shell. ‘Of course, darling. I am sorry that I brought you here. Upton,’ he said, in the proper duke’s voice that did not sound at all like the real Michael who was holding her. ‘Prepare a budget, find an architect and hire some carpenters. We will wish to begin in a week, perhaps, two.’

  ‘Immediately,’ she insisted. ‘It must be totally redone. We must have a main corridor as decent houses do. And normal bedchambers beside each other. Yours is extremely inconvenient.’

  He was walking her slowly towards the door. ‘Perhaps it is your room that is the inconvenient one. But now that you have ruined it by tossing crockery about, we will find you another place. Near to me.’

  ‘Your wing is no better. You sleep in a brothel.’ She caught her breath and freed her hands, making an expansive gesture towards the second floor. ‘Atrocious decorating and the smell of tobacco smoke and liquor. And opium.’

  ‘I agree,’ he said, moving a little more quickly. In an aside to the overseer, he whispered, ‘Get Dr Hastings and his wife. Quickly, man.’ He turned back to her. ‘I am sure the housekeeper would take exception to the statements about cleanliness. The rooms have been aired.’

  ‘I am extremely sensitive,’ she reminded him. ‘And I know what went on there. It cannot be cleaned. It reeks of sin.’ She pointed a dire finger in the direction of the back of the house. ‘Only the nursery is bearable.’

  ‘Then that is where I shall take you,’ he said, kissing her hair.

  ‘Not until you have removed the lock.’

  ‘I will have the lock struck off at once, as soon as you are settled,’ he agreed. ‘But now we must get you to bed.’

  She felt her abdomen begin to tighten and clung more tightly to his neck. ‘There is no point in a door there at all. We will not cage this child like an animal, Michael.’

  ‘Michael,’ he murmured, as though he had never heard his own name before. His hands were messaging her back, pressing deeply against knots of muscles that did not want to release.

  ‘What if there was a fire? And we could not get to the baby....’ She gave a small sob, for the thought frightened her and she hurt. ‘And he was trapped there...with that silly little farm.’

  ‘We will put it away,’ he agreed.

  She could not seem to stop the tears and the pain was still coming, even longer and harder than the last one. ‘Blast and damn.’

  He started at her exclamation.

  ‘I have had care of boys, Michael. It is not as if I have never heard the words before.’

  ‘I see.’ He was smiling at her.

  ‘And this hurts,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Of course, my love.’ He stooped to get a hand behind her knees and scooped. Suddenly she was in his arms, being carried quickly towards the second floor.

  ‘I can walk,’ she said, kicking her feet.

  ‘You have had care of boys, Madeline, but you have never had a baby. Let me help you.’

  ‘Very well.’ But she feared, before this was over, that the majority of the process would fall totally to her.

  ‘Evelyn will be here soon and she will take care of the rest.’

  ‘And we should have real pets for the children, not wood and wire. You may not think so, but they are both sanitary and good company for a child. You must procure a pup from the stables. And let one of the kittens from the kitchen be brought up
to the bedroom to keep the rats out of the cradle.’

  ‘I will get them at once, my dear. As soon as we have got you to bed.’

  That would probably be for the best. The pain and the hurry were making things very confusing. Michael wasn’t himself at all. Or perhaps he was very much himself. She was forgetting which was which. But at least he had listened to her complaints. When he put her down, it was in the governess’s room in the now-doorless nursery wing. The sheets were clean and the coverlet was soft cotton, without the nonsense of satin and ribbons that would be hard to clean.

  He sat her down on the edge of the mattress and helped her out of her clothing, then called for Peg to bring her a clean nightrail, slipping it over her head, and then sliding her into the bed.

  He sat by her side, stroking her hand and wiping her brow until Evelyn came and chased him away so that they might get down to the serious business of having the next duke.

  * * *

  It seemed an eternity since Maddie had come into his office raving like a madwoman. But by Sam’s watch it had been only twelve hours, which he claimed was neither too long nor too short.

  Now they sat together on the top stair, waiting. Michael had waved away suggestions that they retire to the library and had refused the chairs that the servants offered to set for them in the corridor. It did not seem right that he should wait in comfort while she suffered for something he had caused to happen. But he wished that he had not succumbed to her demand to remove the nursery door. The extra layer of wood might have blocked some of his wife’s cries.

  It was small comfort that Colver was not here to get in the way. But damn them both. He would haul the blighter back, relinquish his bride and make the fellow marry her if it would ease her labour.

  But she had called him Michael. And she had done it more than once. She had been in pain, and she had come to him for help, calling him by his given name.

  The thought made him grin. He wanted to move heaven and earth for her. He would have to find a quiet place for mother and child to rest while the remodelling was done. Or he could simply demand that the workmen proceed in complete silence. Compared to housing a dozen tropical birds, how hard could it be to close up a few doors?

  Maddie cried out again and the breath stopped in his throat as he waited for the shrinking silences between the pains. The uncomfortable, bony feeling of the mahogany beneath him was a small penance. And the baluster he gripped anchored him to the spot when he felt like fleeing for the brandy decanter.

  ‘It will not be much longer,’ Sam said. He was far too comfortable with the whole process, but the sounds of the cries were not ripping out his heart, because they did not come from his wife.

  ‘How can you know how long it will take?’

  ‘I have seen deliveries before.’

  ‘Each one was the same, then?’

  Sam paused. ‘No. Each is unique. But you have nothing to fear with Evelyn there.’

  ‘And this midwife wife of yours—’ he released the newel post long enough to gesture towards the closed door ‘—has she been 100 per cent successful in her job?’

  Sam paused. The silence was answer enough. The silence coming from the childbed was equally bad. The cries had been loud but regular. What did it mean that they had stopped?

  ‘That’s it. I am going to see her.’

  ‘You must not.’ Sam grabbed at his arm to pull him back down on the stair. ‘There is no room for you there. Let Evelyn get on with her work. They will send for you when it is over.’

  When it was over. What the devil did that mean? If he waited until it was over, there was a chance that he might have waited too long. He would lose her and she would never know how he felt. Sam hurried past him and stood in the doorway of the nursery, trying to prevent his entering. But blood did not give him the right to stand between a duke and what he wanted. Michael pushed past and through the door.

  * * *

  Maddie stared up at the crack in the ceiling and waited for the pain to stop. But the pain never seemed to stop now. It just rose and fell like waves, and the troughs were shallower and shallower. She was sure she had seen that crack in the plaster before, in happier times. But the laudanum made it hard to remember when.

  ‘You cannot be here, your Grace. You will not wish to see.’ Evelyn was using her firm and matronly voice. And she was trying to shoo a duke.

  What a ludicrous idea. In Maddie’s experience, dukes were very hard to shoo. Another contraction took her, and took her breath, locking her body in a vice, squeezing.

  ‘Michael. Come away. This is no place for you.’

  Sam was here, as well? Was everyone to witness this? Could she have no privacy at all? All she wished was to be alone. To crawl into the woods like an animal and wrap herself around this pain until it stopped.

  ‘Bollocks. Get out of my way, the pair of you.’ She heard the scrape of a chair, but could not manage to turn her head towards it. If she did, she was sure that the world would be on fire to match the pain she was feeling. Even now, the edges of her vision were red like blood, the crack in the plaster running like a river through a burning city. She shut her eyes to protect them from the flames.

  ‘Madeline. Do not die!’

  As if Michael could command even that. He was only a duke. She wanted to laugh, but she had not the breath for it.

  But she knew he was with her, clutching her hand so hard that her fingers hurt. And for a moment, it was the only real point she could find, beyond the agony of the next contraction. She focused on it, letting it hold her to the earth.

  ‘I am sorry. So very sorry for causing this. You need never go through it again.’ A hand smoothed her forehead, wiping the hair back. ‘Just the once. It will be over soon. I am here.’

  How did he know? He was not a doctor. Nor was he a midwife. But what good had either of those been to her in the past few hours? She was alone, all alone with this.

  Then she felt the squeeze of his hand again and she squeezed back. Or tried, at least. Another contraction took her and all the strength left her arm, directed elsewhere as though her entire body was a fist.

  ‘Never again. You will be free if you wish. A life of luxury. Comfort. No pain, I swear. No more pain.’

  How was that to be managed? she wondered. Death was the only end to pain. The idea was strangely appealing. Quiet. Dark. Silent. Painless.

  ‘Madeline!’ His voice dragged her back in time for another pain. Everything was red again, loud, sharp and hurtful. ‘Do not leave me. Please. Not now. You may have your freedom tomorrow. But not until you are done with this.’

  As though what she was doing was a small task. And he seemed so sure it would end. To her it felt like it would go on for ever.

  ‘Maddie! Maddie! Stay with me. I love you.’

  He could not have said it. It was a dream and the words were conjured from what she wanted to hear.

  ‘I love you, Madeline. Damn it, woman. Do you hear me? I love you. And I will never stop telling you so. But you must come back to me so that you can hear me say it.’

  ‘There!’ Evelyn seemed pleased with something, God knew what, but the midwife had come to her other side and was leaning close, over her face.

  ‘Maddie. Open your eyes. Just for a moment.’

  She tried. Evelyn looked quite mad and nearly as dishevelled as she felt. When she turned her head, Michael looked even worse. The smile he gave her did not help at all.

  ‘Push,’ Evelyn said, low and urgent. ‘When the next contraction comes, push with it. Let your body tell you what to do.’

  Everything about her squeezed. But there was a pressing downward. She was making horrible animal noises.

  It stopped. She gasped for breath. This was easier. She tried to speak, but there was no energy for it. She nodded to Michael, panting, unsure o
f what she was agreeing to. But a nod was all she could manage.

  He smiled and nodded back, encouraging.

  ‘Push.’ Evelyn was nearly as commanding as a duke. And much easier to obey.

  ‘Oh, my God.’ Michael seemed shocked. But when she looked to him, he was smiling.

  ‘It is perfectly normal, your Grace.’ Evelyn, still calm and in control. And then to her, ‘We see the head, Maddie. A few more minutes. That is all we need from you. Then you can rest.’

  Rest would be good. Another push came. Like the tide. She went with it. Evelyn was gone from her side, but Michael did not leave. He shot nervous glances to her belly and back to her face. Then he grinned. He looked very foolish and totally undignified.

  ‘Again, your Grace. Again.’

  ‘Do not call me that!’ she managed to shout at Evelyn. There was nothing graceful about this. She pushed again.

  There was a cry.

  It was not hers.

  And a shout of triumph from her husband as though he had done any of the work.

  She fell back into the pillows. ‘The baby?’

  ‘Let me take her. Let me.’

  Evelyn’s laugh. ‘Let me clean her first, Michael. Then she will go to her mother.’

  Her?

  But why was St Aldric so happy?

  ‘We have a daughter,’ Michael said, kissing her on the forehead. Once. Twice. Again. ‘We have a daughter. And, save her mother, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’

  There was a heavy weight in her arms. Warm. Soft. And it was moving.

  She slept.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Maddie woke, her husband had not moved from her side. From somewhere, she heard a faint mewling and felt another squeeze of her hand. ‘Michael?’ She was hoarse from crying out. And if she looked the way she felt, hot and damp and worn out, then she must truly be a fright to behold. She should send the duke away and summon her maid to repair the damage. A mirror would surely tell her that she did not look like a duchess at all.