Page 54 of Again, Scoundrel

“She’s the one you want, not me.”

“Show me the way,” Violet said as a low moan emitted from the interior. “Now, if you please.”

Violet ducked her head and followed the child into the low-ceilinged home.

“Where is she?” she asked, and he pointed to a small figure covered in blankets in the corner of the room. Her heart shuttered at the sound of the woman’s cries.

No. It’s not a woman.

The huddled figure in the corner was barely more than a girl. Violet knelt alongside her.

“I’m here with you,” she whispered, grasping the girl’s hand. “How long have you been in labor?”

The girl turned her glassy eyes to Violet’s. “Since yesterday. It ain’t right. I know it ain’t right.” The girl stopped speaking and let out another groan.

“May I examine you?” Violet asked.

The girl nodded; her face contorted with pain. Violet quickly gestured for Alistair and the boy to turn around and face the wall to give them some privacy, and then she lifted the blankets covering her legs. They were skinny and knob-kneed, more tomboy than expectant mother.

Violet wished desperately for so many things then: clean water, blankets, a comfortable bed for the girl to lie in. Iron salts and a healthy diet. But she had none of those, and the girl could not wait.

“I’m going to put my hand inside you now,” Violet whispered. “It will hurt.”

“It already hurts,” the girl gritted out through clenched teeth.

“I know,” Violet replied as soothingly as she could. “And I am sorry.”

She slipped her hand inside the girl’s birth canal, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t find what she was expecting to find. She took a deep breath as her fingers explored, and then she removed her hand as quickly as possible, her heart sinking.

What she’d found was even worse than she’d feared. Given the length of time the girl had been in childbirth, Violet knew the baby was likely breech. But what she’d found instead was a baby turned on its side. A transverse birth.

She remembered the words of the midwife she’d studied under. “Pray you never find one on its side, girl,” the woman had said. “It’s a death sentence for them both.”

Violet pushed that memory aside and stood, giving the girl’s hand a pat. “A word,” she said to Alistair and motioned him to the other side of the room.

“This baby cannot be delivered,” Violet whispered grimly. “Not the way it’s positioned now. I’m going to have to turn it. And even then—”

“I’ll help you,” Alistair said.

“No, listen to me. You need to take the boy. It is probable that neither his sister nor the baby sees daylight. I’ll do what I can, but he should not be here.”

“Violet, don’t be absurd. I’m not leaving you alone in St. Giles.”

“Alistair, please. He’s just a child. He can’t witness this.”

“No. Absolutely not. I’ll take him outside if I must, but I’m staying close enough that I can hear you call for me.”

Violet acquiesced; she had no time to argue. Alistair had barely shepherded the boy out the door before she turned back to her patient.

“Will we die?” the girl asked. “Me and the babe?”

Violet held her hand and knelt back down beside her.

“I’ll do everything I can,” she promised. “But I’m going to need your help. Can you help me?”

The girl nodded again, her bravery nearly bringing tears to Violet’s eyes. She pushed them aside to concentrate on her duty.

“Good,” she said. “Right now, I need you to do something that’s going to sound quite strange. I need you to NOT push, no matter how much you want to. Do you understand?”