The Gentleman Who Loved Me (Heart of Enquiry Book 6)(85)

Pulling down her veil to shield her face, Rosie pushed both hands into Andrew’s chest. Andrew staggered back a step, obviously unprepared for her actions—probably because he thought she would be a good little girl and go home like he ordered—and she used that opportunity to hop down from the carriage, her half-boots hitting the ground.

Facing Fanny, she said, “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever problem Andrew is dealing with, I can help him with it as well as you.”

“You think so?” The bawd’s smirk was visible even through the filter of Rosie’s veil. “’Ow many brats ’ave you pulled into the world with yer lily-white ’ands, eh?”

That was what Andrew and Fanny were doing… assisting in a childbirth?

Rosie had never attended a birthing, seeing as she’d been an unmarried miss until recently and she was squeamish by nature. Her belly gave an uneasy flutter, but she lifted her chin. There was no way she was backing down to Fanny.

“I can follow the physician’s orders as well as anybody.” She prayed this would be limited to fetching things like hot water, towels, and whatnot—errands that would keep her out of the birthing chamber as much as possible.

“Physician?” Fanny’s laugh was like a slap to the face. “Do you think Corbett and I would be elbow deep in blood and guts if we ’ad a quack around to ’elp?”

Blood… and guts? Eww.

Bile hit her throat, yet Rosie stood her ground. “Well, you have someone to help now. Me.”

Fanny opened her mouth, Andrew silencing her with a glare. “Go inside, Fanny.” His tone was so lethal that the bawd did as she was told. Then he turned to Rosie. “As for you—”

“I’m staying.” If he thought he could order her about like some employee, then he had better think twice. “If Fanny can help, then I can too. I want to.”

“Damnit, this isn’t for you,” he growled.

“Why—because you think I’m a useless, milk-fed chit who isn’t good for anything but looking pretty?” The words burst from her like fester from a boil.

“Where in blazes did you get that insane idea?” He raked a hand through his tawny mane, a gesture of supreme male impatience. “I never said that.”

“You think it.” Her voice trembled with accusation. “That’s why you don’t want me here. That’s why you’re always helping me while I’m never allowed to reciprocate. That’s why you let Fanny stay but not me—your lover. You told me once that you expect me to share not just my body but my mind and spirit as well. For your edification, I expect the same,”—she poked a finger into his chest—“of you.”

He stared at her as if she were a candidate for Bedlam. Then his gaze rose upward, as if searching for divine intervention. Then his hand clamped around her arm, dragging her unceremoniously toward the building.

Her feet and mind struggled to keep up. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t look back at her, just kept going. “You wanted to be part of this.”

Hope percolated through her. “You’re letting me stay?”

“Not only are you staying, you’re helping.” Opening the door, he pulled her through. “An enemy of mine has seen fit to threaten or pay off all the available midwives and quacks in the vicinity. Now I find myself with three women all on the verge of delivering their babes—and there’s me, Fanny, and a maid who just fainted at the sight of blood to handle it. Luckily,”—he sent her a sardonic look—“I now have an extra pair of hands.”

Swallowing nervously, Rosie didn’t dare say a word as he led her through a kitchen, up some stairs, and into a long hallway. Rooms branched off on either side, the layout suggesting the place’s prior use as an inn or boarding house.

A scream came from a room on the right. Rosie jerked—then jerked again when a long wail followed, this time from a room on the left. A string of unladylike curses came from some other room up ahead.

Fanny’s head poked out from the nearest room, her brown curls plastered to her forehead.

“Babe’s coming and not easily,” she said tersely to Andrew. “I need you in here.”

He rolled his sleeves as he strode over.

Rosie couldn’t seem to get her feet to move. “I’ll, um, fetch some hot water,” she said feebly.

Fanny managed to get off a snide look before she disappeared into the room with Andrew.

Sighing, Rosie deposited her cloak and bonnet on a bench and headed back to the kitchen, where she’d seen a large pot boiling on the stove. She filled a pail and lugged it back up the steps. Inhaling deeply, she entered the room where Andrew and Fanny had gone.

“I’ve brought the water…” A light-headed sensation hit her. A woman was groaning and writhing on the bed, her knees up, blood soaking the sheets beneath her swollen body…

“Leave it by the door,” Andrew instructed.

Gladly. Rosie dropped the bucket and dashed out.

In the hallway, she pressed her clammy hands to her cheeks, fighting back nausea. For goodness sake, don’t cast your accounts. You have to show Andrew that you’re equal to the task.

What if you’re not? Her inner voice mocked her. What if you are just a useless chit…?

“Please. Someone ’elp me.”