by Kate Pearce
The man dropped his saddle bag, and removed his belt and scabbard. Obviously military. Merry stayed still as the dead until she heard him snore, then she felt safe enough to go back to sleep. She would be up before dawn so she could start feeding the chickens and gathering their eggs, then stoke the fire back up in the stove. It was her job to get the kitchen ready for Pierre, or whomever was cooking that day. If it was Elke, everyone said a prayer and swallowed the boiled meat and potatoes which were her specialty. With a generous piece of crusty bread, it wasn’t too bad, and Merry was always thankful for a meal that didn’t come back up.
When Merry woke on Christmas Eve morning, she knew it was not going to be a good one. The backache she’d suffered for a few days was worse, and her babe had turned over again in her belly. It felt as though he was sitting on her bladder and pushing against her lower back with both baby feet. The barn door was open below as one of the hands brought in fresh water. Merry could see the sky lightening, and snow still falling. Snow for Christmas was lovely, except when one had to work in it.
At least it was snow, and no longer the sleet that coated the ground with ice before yesterday’s light snowfall. Merry thought it might be best to ask one of the lads below to help her across the road. And she needed to hurry because she felt the need for a chamberpot. She hadn’t drunk much the night before, because the babe sat on her bladder and she’d wanted to make it through the night without crossing back to Elke’s.
She sat up and forced herself not to make a sound; she didn’t want to wake the man sleeping some distance from her. Bríet said the constant, dull pain was Merry’s body getting ready to birth the babe. This might go away, or might continue until her waters broke, she’d said. And when that happened Merry was to send for Bríet immediately. Surely this was weeks away; however, her babe really seemed to insist on tormenting her bladder. She looked at the ladder, and realized she couldn’t wait until the officer left his bed.
It was cold out from under her pile of woolen blankets. She stood and took a moment to spread the covers back over her bed of hay, almost certain she would need them again this night. She turned toward the ladder, carrying her boots looped over her arm, then glanced over where she thought the man had been sleeping, and noticed he was gone, Good. She didn’t want to see him. Or for him to see her.
Thus far in the months she’d been here, she’d not run into anyone who knew her from Haywards Heath. And that was as she wished. She assumed her father would have told people she’d died or something. It would save him from any stain on him from her fallen state—and everyone knew it was all about appearances with her father.
Merry Anna didn’t care about appearances. She wanted the man she loved back from wherever her father sent him, and she’d wait for him to come for her and their babe. Richard would certainly think to ask the maid Lucy where Merry had gone, wouldn’t he? She felt that painful knot in her throat that preceded tears. This was not the time for crying, or fear. She had to be strong for Richard, because he was out there somewhere and as soon as he was able, he was going to come for them.
She tied a second knit scarf over her head to keep her ears warm and slipped her hands into her gloves. She reached for the rail to begin her descent, and with her first step down she felt a pain so sharp that she doubled over and winced, then her child forced a groan out of her. She waited for it to pass—which seemed to take forever—then on her hands and knees she crawled back to her folded blankets to wait for this set of spasms to end.
She heard footsteps below come running, then hurry up the ladder.
“Merry Anna!” A deep voice, with an accent far more highborn than anyone who worked here in the stables. The familiar way in which he called out her name sounded as though he knew her. But it wasn’t Richard.
She turned her head, and in the dim light of a snowy dawn, looked into warm brown eyes filled with concern for her. He looked a bit familiar, though she couldn’t place him. How did this man know her? And more importantly, how did he know she was here?
“I don’t know who you are, sir.” She paused to breathe through the spasm starting in her back and coming down and around to her low belly. “But I’m in need of a friend of mine in Frau Klaus’ Haus. Her name is…is Bríet. White hair. Blue eyes. Please? Can you…fetch her?”
He looked over the railing of the loft and yelled at a boy, ordering him to fetch Bríet immediately. He had an educated voice, and was comfortable commanding. Could this be the soldier who’d arrived the night before? And how did he know her?
“Sir, I have no idea who you are, and…as you can see, I am in need of my friend because I cannot do this”—she motioned to her belly—“alone.”
“I’ll not leave you, Merry,” he said, taking a seat on the stool next to her bed. “Merry Anna Hughes, I’m Richard’s friend, Joseph. I know we’ve only met once—though it was just for a moment—in Haywards Heath, but Richard spoke of you often, and wrote of you in his letters to me.”
Merry startled at the name of her beloved, but another clenching pain immediately yanked her attention away from him. In minutes Elke and Bríet hurried into the stable. They asked the soldier to leave them, and he went below. Though it was soon obvious he didn’t go far.
“I told you you should have sent that girl out here,” Elke chided. “You cannot have this child up here in the freezing cold.”
“Well, I cannot make it down that ladder now,” Merry said.
“I can get you down, Merry Anna,” Joseph said.
“Ilke,” said Bríet, “the girl in her room is now running a fever. I would think Merry Anna is better off out here than in her room now, lest she or the babe catch the fever too.” Bríet helped her lie back on the bedding. “How long have you been in pain?”
“This started a few minutes ago, and I thought I could manage, but it’s… ahhh,” she sucked in a breath, held it a moment, then released it slowly. When the pain eased she finished, “It hurts enough to make me double over.”
“Did your water break?” Elke asked.
“Not yet,” Merry said.
Ilke scowled suspiciously down at Joseph, who seemed to be impatient to help. “Who is that man, Merry, and how does he know you?”
“He said he is a friend of Richard’s from Haywards Heath,” Merry whispered. “He looks familiar, though I cannot place him.”
“Sir,” Elke said loud enough for the man below to hear, “see if Mick will clear the boys out of the room below us, and let us have it for Merry to labor in.” To Merry she said, “The chimney might be here, but the fire is down there. So we are going to move you.”
“If there is a fire there,” Bríet said, “I can heat water over the coals.”
“Fine,” Merry said, extending her hand to Bríet. “Help me get up.” When she stood, Merry stretched, momentarily in a lull between her pains. “I should go down now while I can.”
“No, Merry Anna,” came the deep voice from below. “I will get you down safely.”
“Thank you, I can manage on my own,” she said.
The soldier came up with a length of heavy rope, and tossed one end through the center truss that supported the roof. Mick grabbed the length that dropped to the ground. Richard’s friend took the opposite end of the rope and made two loops, then ran the end through and tied them together. He put his foot in the lower loop and pulled the knot tight, then he did the same with the second loop. When he was done, he turned to Merry.
“You can do this one of two ways,” he said, demonstrating each. “You can step into the loop and raise it to—” His face turned a little pink above the scruff of several-days growth of facial hair as he brought the rope up to his crotch. “Or, if you feel stable enough and strong enough, put your foot on the bottom loop, as I just did, and your arm through this loop and crook your elbow like so.” He stepped to the edge. “Mick, can you lower me to the ground?” He smiled at Merry earnestly. “Watch, Merry, it’s very safe.” With a nod from the head groom, Joseph let the rope
slip slowly through his hand as he floated smoothly to the ground. Looping the rope over his arm, Richard’s friend climbed back up to the loft. Merry heard the commotion of all the boys cleaning and rearranging the few items of furniture in the work room, and looked into Joseph’s eyes.
“I will not drop you, Merry Anna, I promise. Richard would—” He paused and swallowed hard. “He’d be very upset with me if I did.”
Merry took the rope from him as Elke made her way down the ladder. She placed her arm through the upper loop. Joseph nodded. “Wait until I get down there and I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you to step off the edge.”
He waited for Elke to finish her descent, then went down after her. Once he had the rope in hand, he told Merry she could take as much time as she needed. Bríet held her left hand when she stepped off the edge of the loft, and she was fully supported by the rope held by Joseph, her right foot and right arm in the knotted loops.
It was just a few seconds between stepping off and being on the floor, and her landing was smooth and soft. She heard him let out a deep breath he’d been holding. He bent to remove her foot from the rope, and Mick began gathering up the coils from the floor. “I’ll clear this from the floor so’s ye don’t trip over it.”
Bríet came toward her, tucking her Nordic braids tighter under her woolen cap. “Let us get you tucked in the work room.”
Their boot boy, George, came rushing into the barn, stating that there were travelers who wanted to leave today and they wanted their breakfasts.
“I will be right there, George,” Elke said.
Merry felt guilty. “I am fine now, Elke; I can gather eggs and start the fire…”
“You will do no such thing,” Bríet said. “Your babe will be here tonight, I’m sure of it. You’re going to give your man a child before this day is through.”
“I thought I had a few weeks yet,” Merry said, with a wry grin.
She felt the dull pain beginning again and leaned forward, almost falling to her knees as she had when she’d tried to climb down the ladder. In the blink of an eye Richard’s friend scooped her into his arms and carried her into the work room that doubled as the dormitory for the boys who worked in the posting house stables.
He held her in his arms for several long minutes while Bríet and Elke selected a bed near the coal fire, but not too close. Elke moved the work table closer to the foot of the bed they chose, and Mick cleared it for her.
Ilke spoke quietly to Mick about sending in clean linens and pots. Then she and Bríet discussed feeding the guests stranded in the brothel, each day and night until Pierre returned, or the snow melted.
Merry looked up at the man who held her so effortlessly. “Sir, why are you here?”
“I will explain in a bit,” he answered, “after we get you comfortable and situated in the b…the bed.” He paused, and Merry saw his cheeks turn pink.
“It’s just a bed. You can say it. I’m no longer a blushing miss,” she said. “I’d be married to Richard by now if…” Merry held her lower belly and gritted her teeth to contain a groan. “I’d be…married if…argh!—it weren’t for my father.”
His face paled. “Oh, God, Merry, I felt something move…then your body tensed, and—”
“—And she’s going to have a babe sometime this afternoon,” Bríet said. “Now put her down on the bed gently and give us some privacy, please.”
Once Joseph was gone, they helped Merry remove her drawers and get some towels and old bedding under her.
“Birthing is a messy thing,” Elke said. “I’ll send some more linens across as soon as I get back to the haus.” Elke went to the door and out to the barn aisle.
Briet fussed about her a minute more, adjusting the bedding, then sighed. “I must go and help Elke in the kitchen,” Bríet said. “I will come check on you in a few hours.”
“I’ll have the babe before that!” Merry whispered.
“I will be here before the babe comes, Merry,” Bríet said, “I promise.”
“I’m scared, Bríet.” Merry grabbed her friend’s hand and held it tight. “What do I do?”
“Do not fear, Merry. The pains now prepare your body for later,” her friend said. “If your water breaks before I get back to check on you, send your friend to come get me.”
“Richard’s friend; I do not know him,” Merry said. “I think he’s come to bring me news from home. Though I do wonder how…” She took a slow, deep breath, and exhaled just as slowly. When it passed, she finished her thought. “I wonder how he found me, and if he did, then surely Richard will, too? I should ask him what address to send my letters for Richard.” She took another slow breath. “It’s easing now, but…” She released her friend’s hand now that the pain had subsided. “Go, Bríet. Elke needs you, and I’m blithering.”
“It is normal to be nervous, except you should not worry.” Bríet gave her a reassuring smile. “Worry isn’t good for you or the baby. Now, shall I send your friend in?”
“Yes,” Merry said managing a grin. “I’m eager to hear what news he brings from Richard.”
Chapter 3
When Richard’s friend Joseph entered the room, Merry motioned for him to take a seat on the stool next to the bed.
“Thank you for helping me earlier, Mr…?”
“Just Joseph,” he said, drawing the stool closer.
Merry found his smile warm and reassuring, and his eyes comforting and caring. And, from the moment she heard him call her name, she was buoyed by renewed hope. Richard wouldn’t have friends who were untrustworthy. He must have sent Joseph, and hopefully wouldn’t be far behind.
“Are you comfortable, Miss Merry Anna?” he asked.
“Yes, though I don’t believe he is.” She rubbed her baby belly. “I imagine it’s getting cramped in there now that there’s less room to swim around.”
He laughed, and it was a deep, true, from-his-belly laugh. Just like Richard’s. In fact, Joseph even looked somewhat like Richard, except for his hair and eye color. Richard had blue eyes, as did she. Joseph’s eyes were the color of whisky, but with occasional flecks of sunlight through the rich brown. Richard’s face was softer, and he was…
Not here.
“Joseph, do you have news from Richard for me? He hasn’t written me, you know. Of course, he would have no idea where to address a letter to me, and I have no idea where to send a letter to him.”
She waited for him to say something, but the longer he took and the look on his face told her something dreadful was about to happen. A large knot of terror grew in her breast, and a cry of a different kind of pain, of something deeper and more primal, started to work its way out from her soul.
He came forward and held her while she cried, for what felt like hours to Merry. What brought her out of her grief was another cramping pain, starting at her spine and working around to her front, causing her belly to tense. She tried to take deep breaths and exhale slowly, as Bríet had instructed. Except it was difficult to think of anything except this: Richard was no longer here. The man she loved wouldn’t share in the joy of raising their child, or create more children with her. There would be no growing old with him as they’d dreamed in those stolen intimate moments.
And as her body practiced the moves necessary to bring forth her child into this world, her heart was rent in half because her child’s father had been taken out of it. Merry wanted to know how, when, why? Once the pain eased, she asked his friend. “What happened, and how did you know where to find me?”
His voice was solemn, deep and quiet. “I went home to bury my father last week, and I was surprised to not see Richard at the funeral.”
“I’m so very sorry for your loss,” Merry said, sincerely in sympathy for the gentleman who was obviously saddened at his father’s passing. “It’s evident you love him greatly—enough to ask for leave from your regiment to return home.”
“I did,” Joseph said, choking back tears, “and he loved each of us dearly as well.” He
collected himself and continued. “The day after we buried Father, I went to visit Richard’s parents, as Richard was my friend, we grew up together, it was unlike him to not—” Joseph paused to bolster his emotions, and Merry took his hand in hers, sharing what little strength she had. “When I asked her about her son, Mrs. Poole burst into tears, and through her sobs, she said Richard was of the ten sailors who died on the HMS Avon back in early September.
“The minute she said that, I knew your father had to be involved in Richard ‘becoming’ a sailor. He’d turned green at the thought of coming out onto the lake in my punt to fish with me! It certainly wasn’t what he’d planned for himself.”
“Richard couldn’t swim,” Merry whispered. “I was going to teach him after we married.”
“Richard had hoped to take over for his father one day, and be the steward at Blakeney Hall. In his very last letter he wrote to me in May, he confided that you were carrying his child, and that you were going to be married. He was happy, proud, and very much in love with you. He also said you both feared you would not receive your father’s approval and planned to elope, then return after you were married.
“But we know that never happened, and I am so very sorry, Merry.”
She began crying again, and again Joseph comforted her. Minutes later, she remembered she had one more question for him. Leaning away from his embrace, she asked him, “How did you find me?”
“The day before I left Haywards Heath, I received a message from Lucy Black, with whom I’m told you are familiar.”
Merry nodded. “She’s the upstairs maid at my father’s home. She helped me.”
“She sent me a note; she heard I was asking after Richard and you, and she had information for me. I met her and she told me where to find you, and what had happened. Your father was cruel to do what he did, and his behavior was hideous and appalling.” Joseph’s kind face momentarily darkened in a scowl. “And while he did not directly murder Richard, his actions hastened his end.”