To Take Her Pride

by Anne Brear

  “Yes. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath, wishing he was miles from here.

  “Whom did Tom marry?” She faced him, proud and defiant as always, but he saw the tense way she held her shoulders.

  “Aurora Pettigrew.” There, he had said her name out loud, but he kept as still as possible, feeling the violence swelling up in him.

  His mother closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again they were full of hate, but a treacherous smile hovered on her lips. “The bitch has struck back. How interesting,” she whispered.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing, darling.” She left the room and also left him feeling cold. What on earth did she mean? A sick feeling swirled in the pit of his stomach. He shook his head. He couldn’t deal with her right now. Aurora filled his mind and the fact that he was going to be a father.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A biting wind carried snow so thick it blurred the landscape, concealing recognizable features and filling the void in a white sheet. Outside the world was silent, even the blizzard made no noise.

  In her bedroom, Aurora panted, hot and sweaty. Sophia had banked the fire up so much that it sent out a red hot blaze and no one could stand within four feet of it. She watched tiredly as Lily rinsed the cloth in a bowl of cool water. At the end of the bed Sophia paced, her eyes worried, her hair in disarray. Aurora knew what they both thought. The midwife or doctor would never get here through the snowdrifts. They were alone to bring this baby into the world.

  As her body tensed for another contraction, Aurora held her breath.

  “No breathe, Aurrie, don’t hold it,” Lily said, bending over her holding the blissfully cool cloth to her forehead.

  “Every five minutes.” Sophia stood at the end of the bed, rubbing Aurora’s bent leg. “Good girl. You’re doing well.”

  “I’m not!” She let go of a gasp as the contraction peaked and then ebbed away slowly. She was about to speak again when abruptly the sensation of water gushing from her made her gasp. “I’ve wet the bed!”

  “Your waters have broken.” Lily glanced at Sophia in alarm.

  “Is that good?” Aurora panicked.

  “Yes, it’s just the next stage. Progress.” Sophia smiled with reassurance. “Rest if you can.”

  Aurora closed her eyes and relaxed against the pillows. She’d been in labor for eight hours, most of the day. Her first pains had started before dawn after a sleepless night thinking about Tom.

  Poor Tom. Her chest felt heavy with sorrow. Reading the telegram telling her of Tom being killed had been one of the most wretched things she’d ever done. She had contacted the solicitor in London that same morning and three days later, yesterday, he arrived at the cottage. His visit reaffirmed all that Tom had spoken of before he left. The farm was hers. She wished she could cry for Tom, he deserved her tears, but the grief in her chest gently simmered with no relief.

  Tightening encircled her stomach once more and she hunched her shoulders to deal with the coming contraction. While the pain tightened her insides like a vice, the world beyond the bed grew dim and unfocused. Lily and Sophia’s encouragement sang in her ears. Gradually, the pain waned and she rested, dozing a little.

  As the night drew in, turning the white countryside to gray and silver, Aurora struggled to keep awake. The contractions had slowed down and at one point she didn’t have a pain for an hour. She was aware of Sophia’s quietness and Lily’s anxious concern, but the tiredness defeated her and she slept for a while until another dull pain woke her.

  “Aurrie, darling, we need you to stay awake and get this baby out.” Sophia pulled up the sheet and opened Aurora’s legs wider. “Do you feel the need to push?”

  “No.”

  “You might on the next pain.”

  “Where’s Lily?” Aurora looked around the empty bedroom.

  “Feeding Will.” Sophia gently raised Aurora up from the pillows. “Come on, out you get. You’re going to walk. Lily said Mrs Murphy told her to do that.”

  Every muscle ached as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I wish Mrs Murphy was here now.”

  “So do I.” Sophia’s smile was grim. “I’m no midwife, that’s for sure. Bloody snow.”

  “Swearing, Mrs Middleton?” Aurora joked as they shuffled around the room. “I wouldn’t let Mr Blackwell hear you speak like that. You’ll not be invited to any of the council balls.”

  “Mr Blackwell can go to Hell.” Sophia grunted. “Nosy old goat in a fancy waistcoat.”

  Aurora’s chuckle turned into a moan as a pain sent her to her knees. Her groin grew heavy as if a lead weight was hanging from her hips.

  “Good, they’ve started again.” Sophia helped her up. “Let’s keep going.”

  “I’d rather not.” She panted, bent over. “It’s like someone is gripping my insides and pulling them out with a rope.”

  “That’s how I remember it, too.” Sophia guided her around the room. “We want this baby born soon, dearest. I’m losing beauty sleep and I need all I can get.”

  “Drivel.” Aurora gave her a wry smile. “Do you think it’ll be born by morning?”

  “Yes, I hope so.”

  “Dawn isn’t too far away now, is it?”

  Sophia glanced out the window. They hadn’t bothered to draw the curtains. “A few hours. Do you know that you were born at dawn?”

  “Really?”

  “Aurora means dawn. I read it somewhere and thought it a good fitting name.”

  “It’s different.”

  Sadness changed Sophia’s expression. “It’s all I could give you.”

  “No, that’s not true.” Aurora paused in walking. “You gave me to people who loved me, who gave me a wonderful life where I wanted for nothing.”

  “I did the right thing then?”

  “Yes.” She smiled, only to grimace as a twinge became a tearing pain. Abruptly more liquid gushed from between her legs. “I’m wet. My God, it’s blood.” Her knees buckled again and she held onto Sophia tightly as something pounded her low down. “Got to sit.”

  Sophia aided her over to the bed, but as Aurora lifted her leg over the edge, she felt a stinging force push through her pelvis.

  “Oh good heavens! It’s the head.” Sophia pushed Aurora backwards. “Lie down, quickly.”

  Frightened, Aurora gripped the sheets in her hand and pushed hard, unable to stop the urge. In a moment the pressure eased as a wet slithery body flushed from her.

  Sophia cried out, catching the slippery baby. “God help me. Aurora help! It’s out. Oh my Lord, what do I do? It’s so small,” she gabbled.

  Sitting up to see better, Aurora stared at the tiny blue bloodied body, its pulsing cord attaching it to her. “Is it alive?”

  “I don’t know. Hold it.” Sophia thrust the baby onto Aurora’s stomach and she grabbed it instinctively, but warily, while Sophia rushed to whip the warming towel off the rack before the fire. She hastily bundled the baby and then tied off the cord before struggling to cut it with sewing scissors. “There. It’s done.”

  “It’s not crying.” Aurora gazed down at the quiet tiny baby who lay passive in her arms. “Is it breathing?” She stiffened in panic, pushing the baby towards Sophia, whose face lost all color. “Is it breathing!” she screamed.

  Uncovering the baby, Sophia placed two fingers on its little chest and the baby squirmed, but made no sound. “I think it is.” She blew on the baby’s face and it opened its mouth, an arm moved. “Cry for us sweetheart, please,” Sophia begged.

  Aurora felt the blood drain from her face. Her baby was dying. “It’s too small. It won’t live.”

  “No, it’s ...” Sophia glanced down the body, “it’s a girl and she breathing. Look.” She held help the baby up from the towel, its tiny legs thrashed.

  “Why won’t it cry then?”

  Sophia tapped the little bottom and the baby’s face screwed up and emitted a short wail.

  Relief washed over Aurora in waves, she turned he
r head and vomited over the side of the bed, her body protesting painfully. She lay back gasping, holding her aching stomach and drawing in air.

  Sophia wrapped the baby up again. “There we are, little one, Grandmama has you. Yes, she does, darling, and everything is going to be all right.”

  Lily hurried into the room, her eyes wide. “Oh, I missed it!”

  Sophia smiled, cuddling the baby in her arms, tears flowing unchecked down her cheeks. “Be glad you did, lass, be glad you did.”

  Reid stood at the gate dividing the acres of gardens between the Hall and the Pettigrew’s home. He’d spent the morning writing correspondence in regards to planning Tom’s memorial. Tonight he and his mother were leaving for London. His heart constricted at going away. The only place he should be travelling to was wherever Aurora was, but he had a duty to perform first. He owed that to Tom. Silently though, he vowed that when that was finished he would go to Aurora and beg for her forgiveness. After today, she would always come first.

  The cold from the snow-thick ground seeped through his boots. He pushed open the gate and walked through the trees towards the Pettigrew house. In the distance, he saw the gardener and his lad shoveling snow off the drive. His footsteps faltered as he crossed the lawn area, past sweeping flowerbeds all dormant and hidden beneath their soft cloak of white. When he rounded the front of the house a maid was sweeping the front step. He smiled. “Is Mrs Pettigrew home?”

  “Yes, Mr Reid, er, Mr Sinclair, in the drawing room.” She bobbed a curtsey and held the door open for him just as Tibbleton came out and told her to attend to another task.

  Tibbleton ushered him in and took his black coat. “Cold day, sir.”

  “Very much so.”

  Tibbleton coughed. “I’m sorry to hear about Mr Tom, sir. On behalf of all the staff I give you our condolences.”

  “Thank you, Tibbleton. I appreciate that.” Reid nodded in thanks and entered the drawing room.

  Winnie looked up from writing at her secretary in the corner. “Reid, dear boy.” She stood and held her hands out to him. “I thought you had immediately returned to London.”

  “We go this evening.” He kissed her cheeks, glad to see she looked a little better than she did during the summer. “How are you?”

  “In good health.” She gestured for him to sit and then turned to Tibbleton who stood in the door. “Tea, please, and some of Mrs Pringle’s stuffed dates.” And then gave her attention back to Reid. “How does your mother fare?”

  “I think she is in shock.” He shrugged, not knowing what to say. After the initial outburst she had remained calm and controlled, like himself.

  “We grieve for dear Tom. He was so uplifting. Josiah thought very well of him.”

  “I’m happy to hear it. Many despaired over Tom and his wildness. Myself included. But I am glad Mr Pettigrew thought Tom had potential beyond his craving for doing the wrong thing.” Reid hung his hands between his knees and stared into the fire. “I have learned recently that my brother was more sensitive than I gave him credit for. For my shame I just wish I had known earlier.”

  “Death does that, Reid, teaches us lessons we never thought to learn.” She smiled kindly and looked over to watch Dotty and Tibbleton bring in the tea tray. Once they had gone, closing the door behind them, she poured out the tea.

  “Are the girls home?” Reid asked, accepting his cup and saucer.

  “Bettina and Harriet are in the study with their German tutor. They won’t be down for an hour yet.” She watched him carefully and he flushed under her scrutiny. “Is there something you want to discuss with me?”

  “Yes.” He put the cup and saucer back on the tray and walked over to the fireplace. He watched the flames leaping around the wood, but didn’t feel the heat.

  “What is it, Reid?”

  “I know that Aurora ran away.”

  Winnie gasped. “How? What do you know?”

  “I also know who Aurora married and why.”

  “You do?” Winnie’s hand went to her throat and tears filled her eyes. “But who? We don’t know ourselves. She never mentioned his name. We’ve been thinking all sorts of things.”

  “She married Tom.”

  “Tom who?”

  “My brother, Tom.”

  “Your Tom?” Her mouth gaped open and she blinked in shock. “But—”

  “I love Aurora, Mrs Pettigrew, I do most dearly.” He suddenly knelt at her knee and gripped her hands, unable to bear the hideous burden crushing his chest. “I love her more than anything in the world.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks and she squeezed his hands. “How did Tom come to marry my daughter then if you love her?”

  “I think, no, I know she ran away from here because…because she was carrying my child. At least that is what Tom wrote in a letter.”

  “A child?” Winnie’s throat convulsed and she bit her lip as a moan escaped. “She was in trouble. Oh Aurora …”

  “I’m sorry. Desperately sorry.”

  “That was not the only reason why she left, Reid.” Winnie bowed her head. “Oh, my dearest girl.”

  “It wasn’t?” His heart seemed to dip down to his boots and back up again to lodge painfully in his chest.

  “She found out that I am not her real mother, and that my sister is the one who gave birth to her.”

  He reared back, staring at her in astonishment. He couldn’t believe it. “My God. That means she—”

  “That means she had a lot to deal with all at the same time.” Winnie finished for him, fumbling for a handkerchief and wiping her eyes. “When she left we found a note from her saying she was going to look for her real mother. Josiah and I have no idea how she found out. No one knew but our parents, who are dead, and ourselves. We moved to Leeds away from everyone once Sophia, my sister, gave us Aurora, so it wouldn’t cause speculation amongst our friends. By the time we saw them again, they assumed Aurora was ours.”

  He got to his feet and went back to the fire, resting his arm along the mantelpiece. “I cannot believe it.”

  “She had no money, Reid, or very little. Josiah dreads to think how she has survived. We’ve had two letters. One not long after she left, saying she was well and then another, the day when you and your mother called, saying she was married.” As though thankful for finally being able to speak of this matter, Winnie hurried on. “The first letter was stamped in York and the second in Halifax. Josiah has had men searching, he hired people to find her, but with no luck so far and then when she said she had married we didn’t have her husband’s name to use to further the search. But my husband is a stubborn man, Reid, and won’t give up. He’s now having church records searched for banns and the wedding registers, but he cannot visit every church in England. We thought it would take years!” Tears sprang from her eyes again and she dabbed at them ineffectually. “I can’t believe she married Tom. At least it was someone who would know how to take care of her and treat her properly.”

  “You mentioned Halifax? She sent a letter from Halifax?” Reid thought to the letter he’d received from the fellow in Hebden Bridge. “I think I might know where she is.”

  “Oh Reid.” She hunched over in her chair and cried broken-heartedly and he comforted her in his arms. After a while, she rose and crossed to her secretary. From a drawer, Winnie pulled out a crumbled piece of paper and gave it to Reid. “One of the maids found this some months ago. I didn’t know what it meant really. I didn’t know the handwriting or who it was addressed to, but now I think Aurora had dropped it. Will you read it and tell me what you think?”

  He nodded and puzzled, took the note. He blinked in surprise on seeing his own handwriting.

  My darling,

  Soon, it will be possible for us to be together. There are things I must do, arrangements I’ve made in haste, which have now prevented me from declaring myself fully to your father.

  Be patient my dearest Hermione…

  It took some moments for him understand the implications of
the contents. Hermione… He jerked and stared at Winnie. “This is my letter to Aurora, but I…this…” He knocked the paper with the back of his hand. “I never wrote Hermione’s name. That name isn’t in my handwriting. This letter was meant for Aurora not Hermione. You must believe me.”

  “It’s what Aurora believed, Reid, that’s important.”

  “How did she get it?” His mind whirled. “Do you have the envelope?”

  “No.” Winnie’s chin wobbled and fresh tears flowed. “You must have felt so betrayed by us all.”

  As naturally as breathing, he moved to comfort her, wondering why he could easily hold this woman in his arms but to do such a thing with his mother was impossible. “I’ll go to her once I’ve returned from London.”

  “Tom was like a brother to her, she always said that.”

  “And he married her to protect her, like a brother. He wanted her child to have a name, to have the rightful name of Sinclair, as it should. He did it for me as well.” He shrugged, emotion filling his throat. “We’ll soon know the whole story.”

  “So if she has married Tom, he must have provided her with a home, money? She wouldn’t be on the street?”

  “She has a home and money, yes.”

  “Oh, thank God.” She bowed her head and cried some more.

  “I am so sorry for my part in this, I promise you I did not know of her condition. She stopped writing to me and the next thing I knew she had gone. It made no sense to me. I’ve been mad with worry like yourself. If only she had come to me. I would have married her as we planned.”

  “You had planned to marry?”

  “Yes, but with my father being ill…” He sucked in a breath. “I should have controlled myself.” He clenched his teeth, frustrated, angry and aching for the truth. “I’m sorry.”

  “She must have been ashamed, Reid, on both accounts, about her child and parentage.” Winnie wiped her eyes again, her handkerchief sodden and limp. “Josiah will be so thankful for this news. We have worried nonstop for so long.”

  “I’ll make it right, I promise you.” He stepped towards the door. “I must go, but I’ll be back soon, with Aurora.”