Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager(26)

‘If you don’t mind, miss, we’ll head back to the stables,’ put in Morton. ‘The old man said he would keep a good fire and have a kettle of something ready when we got back.’

‘Yes, yes, you had best go then, and get yourselves warm.’ The viscount waved them away and turned to look at Susannah. ‘This is bad news,’ he murmured, drawing her into the warmth of the parlour. ‘What will you do now?’

‘I must go back upstairs, I fear Jane is very near her time.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’ His readiness to help was comforting, but she shook her head.

‘Not unless you are a man-midwife.’

‘I regret I cannot help you there, my only experience of such things is when my favourite pointer whelped at Markham.’

Despite her anxiety she smiled at that.

‘Then you know less than I do. I was here last year when one of the girls was in labour. She was very frightened and the midwife asked me to sit with her, to calm her.’

‘So you are not totally inexperienced.’

Susannah clasped her hands together.

‘On that occasion the midwife had very little to do. The baby came into the world quite easily. If Jane’s birth is like that then there is nothing to worry about, but if not—’

She broke off, the horrors of what might happen crowding in on her. The viscount took her hands; the steady strength of his fingers around hers was oddly calming.

‘We have no choice but to try our best.’ A faint cry from above made him lift his head. He squeezed her hands. ‘Do you feel up to this?’

She met his eyes.

‘As you have said, there is no option. I must do what I can.’

‘Then go back upstairs. If you need me you only have to call.’

* * *

The hours ticked by. Susannah sat with Jane while the contractions continued. She had heard that sometimes these pains could die away, and the baby might not come for days. For a while she hoped that perhaps this would be the case and they would be able to send again for the midwife in the morning, but as the evening wore on Jane grew more restless and the pains more frequent. Susannah fetched a bowl of warm water to bathe Jane’s face and hands, and later Bessie came up with a tray, saying the viscount had ordered her to bring up tea and bread and butter for them both.

Susannah did not touch the food but she sipped gratefully at the tea, while Jane refused everything. She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, becoming more and more restless until eventually she was gasping and straining. Susannah knew the crisis must be very near now and she held Jane’s hand tightly, praying that nothing would go wrong.

The birth, when it came, was mercifully brief. Jane was crying out with the pain while Susannah stood by her, feeling helpless as she could do nothing but wipe her brow and murmur inadequate words of comfort. Jane’s anguish was growing by the moment and Susannah was on the point of calling for help when she saw with a mix of terror and delight that the baby was coming. Tentatively she reached out to cradle the head while she continued to encourage Jane. She watched, entranced, as the little body gradually emerged and she found herself crying with relief. The tiny form looked perfect and its angry cries were oddly reassuring. With infinite care she wiped the baby and wrapped it in a soft cloth before lifting it into its mother’s arms.

‘Look, Jane,’ she whispered, her voice hushed with awe and wonder. ‘You have a little girl.’





Chapter Ten

While Jane reclined against a bank of pillows and sleepily watched her baby taking its first, tentative feed, Susannah summoned Bessie to help clear up, then she went to tell Violet and Lizzie that all was well. The hour was advanced by the time she made her way downstairs once more and there was no sign of the viscount in the parlour. She followed the rumble of voices through to the kitchen, where she stopped in the doorway, staring in amazement.

A black range had been installed in the huge fireplace and the viscount was standing before it, stirring the contents of a saucepan. He had removed his jacket, rolled back his voluminous shirt sleeves and tied an apron over his pristine white waistcoat. He glanced round.

‘Ah, you are come down at last. Do come in and shut the door. Bessie told me the news. How are your patients?’

Susannah smiled at the term.

‘They are not my patients. I did very little, and we still need the midwife or a doctor to visit them as soon as the weather improves. But for now mother and baby are both well and resting.’ She looked towards the scullery, where Bessie was cleaning dishes. ‘You have had dinner, then. I am glad.’

‘There was a leg of mutton in the meat safe, so I have made collops for everyone.’ He reached for a frying pan and settled it over the fire. ‘Bessie and the ladies above stairs have already dined, but I was waiting for you to come down so that I could cook yours fresh for you.’

‘Oh, but there is no need, I am so tired, a little soup will do...’

‘Nonsense, you need to eat.’ He came across and took her arm, guiding her to the cook’s armchair at the head of the table. ‘Sit down there and do not move, save to drink the glass of wine I have poured for you.’

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I do not think I could move if I wanted to, I am quite worn out.’

Outside the wind was buffeting the house and hurling icy pellets against the windows, but the kitchen was warm and comfortable, and Susannah was content to sit back and relax. She watched, entranced, as the viscount moved around the kitchen with all the assurance of an accomplished chef. Bessie, too, was completely at home, pottering between the kitchen and the scullery, responding to his instructions as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be directed by a peer of the realm.

‘I did not realise how hungry I had become,’ murmured Susannah as the viscount slid a plate in front of her.

‘No, you have been far too busy.’ He brought his own plate to the table, along with his glass and the decanter of wine. Before he sat down he went to the scullery.

‘If you have finished those dishes you may go to bed, Bessie. The rest can wait until the morning.’

‘Very good, m’lud. Goodnight, ma’am.’ The scullery maid bobbed an awkward curtsy and hurried away. Susannah stared after her, shaking her head.

‘I am amazed. You have fed everyone, with only Bessie to help you?’

‘I have indeed. Her understanding is not great, but knowing everyone else was occupied upstairs, she was only too willing to help where she could. She showed me where to find everything, including Mrs Gifford’s secret store of wine and cider, something I understand she did not share with Mrs Jennings! I hope you don’t mind, but I used almost a whole bottle of claret to make the sauce for the collops.’

‘Violet told me Bessie had brought them dinner, but she did not say... that is, I thought she had served them up a little bread and ham.’

‘Oh, I think we did better than that.’ Meeting her wondering gaze, he laughed. ‘I had an eccentric uncle. When we were younger, my twin and I used to stay with him at his hunting lodge in Leicester, where we would fend for ourselves. We would hunt and fish and cook whatever we could find. My uncle was firmly of the opinion that a man should never be wholly dependent upon his servants, neither his valet nor his cook.’

‘Then I am greatly indebted to your eccentric uncle,’ she replied, savouring the delightful combination of flavours on her plate.

He grinned as he refilled their glasses. ‘You were otherwise engaged and it soon became clear to me that if I did not do something we would be obliged to call in old Daniel to feed everyone.’

‘You did very well. I am impressed by your abilities, my lord.’

‘As I am with yours. Not many ladies of my acquaintance could have taken on the role of midwife.’

‘And I am convinced no other gentleman of my acquaintance could have taken on the role of cook,’ she replied, smiling.

He lifted his glass.

‘Perhaps we should congratulate ourselves, then.’

She raised her own, meeting his eyes with a shy smile. All the old enmities were forgotten, for now.

The meal was delicious and she could not help comparing it with the elaborate dinner he had given her the previous evening. Then he had been aiming to impress and she had been far too anxious to enjoy it but now, this simple meal served in such lowly surroundings was by far the best thing she had ever tasted.

Better a dinner of herbs...

The old proverb came to mind but she banished it quickly lest it spoil the comfortable atmosphere they were sharing.

* * *

By the time they had finished their meal the kitchen fire was dying and the cold was beginning to creep back into the high-ceilinged room. Susannah pushed her plate away and gave a little shiver.

‘Let us move to the parlour,’ suggested Jasper, putting on his coat. ‘I left the fire banked up in there. Unless, that is, you would like to retire to your room?’