He resheathed the dirk he’d pulled halfway from the scabbard at his waist. He held Jamie’s gaze over her head for another moment before looking down at her. “Come,” he said. “Tira asks for you.”
Rose followed him through the castle, Jamie trailing behind. They climbed three flights of stairs to the remote apartments at the top of the west tower. From the landing, they could hear the screaming inside.
“Uh…Rose?”
Rose turned to find Jamie hanging back on the steps. Tira screamed again and he grimaced, head sinking down into his shoulders.
“I think I’ll wait here for you, on the steps…” Tira shrieked again, as if someone tried to murder her. Jamie swallowed. “Except further down.”
“Birthings can take a long time,” Rose cautioned. “I might be in there twelve hours or more. Why don’t you find some dinner and get some rest?”
Jamie’s gazed fixed on William and his lips curled. He said, with more strength in his voice, “I’ll wait on the stairs.”
Rose sighed. “Very well.” At least he wouldn’t be in the birthing room, fighting with William. He looked her up and down, as if considering whether he wanted to kiss her, then settled for a pat on her shoulder before retreating down the steps.
Rose turned back toward the door. William leaned against the frame, watching her. “You must be near to swooning from such a passionate courting.”
Rose glared at him. “I’ve been healing all day. I look hideous. No one would want to touch me.”
He laughed and shook his head. Before she could ask him what was so amusing, the door opened and Tira’s maid glared out at them. Hilda was a stout, sour-faced woman who made certain Tira obeyed every edict Roderick set forth regarding her pregnancy. After losing two wives to childbirth, Roderick was taking no chances. Tira hadn’t left the tower room in two months.
Hilda did not allow William entrance until he moved aside slightly, giving the maid a view of Rose. Hilda fluttered a hand over her ample bosom and threw the door wide. “You’re finally here!”
When William started to follow Rose inside, Hilda blocked his way. “The master says I admit no one except him or Miss Rose.”
Rose patted her comfortingly. “Worry not. Lord Strathwick is a skilled healer.”
But Hilda did not look convinced. Her brows lowered and her thick lips pursed together in a flat line, but she let him pass.
Tira sat up in bed, her belly huge beneath the sheet. Her face was ruddy with pain, and damp hair clung to hertemples. She glanced from Rose to William anxiously, her brows raised in worry.
“Good morn,” William said. “May I?” He indicated the stool beside her bed.
She nodded hesitantly. Long chestnut hair flowed over the snowy linen of her night rail and onto the bedding. Her skin was mildly scarred from smallpox, but it glowed with health, and her teeth were straight and white. She was a handsome woman, older than Rose by some years, a widow when Roderick had met her. She appeared downright robust to Rose—fully capable of delivering multiple weans with no harm to herself. Unfortunately, appearances were often deceiving.
After Rose made the introductions, she passed her hands quickly over Tira, assuring herself of her aunt’s and the wean’s health. Both mother and child were well. Rose placed her hands on Tira’s belly and found that the baby still had not turned.
The muscles contracted, bulging hard, and Tira gasped and cried out. Rose looked up at William. “The baby is still breech.”
“Can she give birth that way?” He looked uneasy, no doubt remembering Deidra’s disastrous birth.
“She’ll have to,” Rose said, comforted by William’s presence. The last breech birth she’d attended had been fatal for both mother and child.
“What does that mean? Am I going to die?” Tira cried, gritting her teeth against the pain. “It’s a monster, isn’t it? It’s too big! Oh, God!”
Hilda stood over the bed, her brow puckered in confusion. “It canna come until the master is here.”
Rose raised an amused brow. “That is of no concern to the babe—I vow it. He cares not at all whether his father is present or not. Besides, Uncle Roderick should not be present in the birthing room.”
Hilda’s gaze flew to William. “Then make him leave!”
“He’s a healer. We may have need of him if aught goes wrong.”
Tira moaned on the bed. “Oh God, Oh God!Get it out!”
William murmured soothingly to her.
“We need sheets,” Rose said to the maid. “And while you’re fetching them, see if you can find my uncle.”
