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“Let’s explain,” Charles said. “She deserves the whole truth.”
Andrew seemed unsure. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “It feels as though everything is happening at once.” Raising his head, the worried expression on his brow caused Amelia’s stomach to tighten in apprehension. “Mrs. Halpert hasn’t done well today. She needs a careful eye on her for the next few days until she is out of the woods again.”
Amelia felt rooted to the chair, her body sinking in shame and mortification. She had hoped to avoid the woman, to have a night to herself, and Mrs. Halpert was quite literally fighting for her life and that of her baby. “Who is with her now?”
“Tabby. But she could use more help.” Andrew’s eyes beseeched her. “I would be more at ease knowing you were with her if I am to be out of the house.”
“Of course.” Amelia got to her feet. He was putting himself in danger to retrieve her horse. Assisting him in this way was the least she could do. “I’ll go up straight away.”
“Thank you,” Andrew said.
Passing Charles, Amelia held her breath until she reached the door. Shooting her brother a smile, she glanced to the small and terrifyingly quiet Mr. Boyle, then to Charles. Allowing her gaze to linger on the latter, she said, “Good luck. Please bring my Howard home.”
“We will do our best,” Charles said, his voice low, hoarse.
“I know you will. I have faith in you. All of you.”
Leaving the room, Amelia’s heart didn’t slow as she mounted the stairs and took herself to Mrs. Halpert’s room. Letting herself inside, her stomach dropped at the image before her—Mrs. Halpert lying on the bed, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn, cheeks pale and mouth pinched. Rushing to her side, Amelia placed a hand over one of Mrs. Halpert’s where she gripped the blanket so tight her knuckles were white.
“What can I do?” Amelia asked, her voice hardly touching above a whisper.
Mrs. Halpert was silent and still, but for an infinitesimal shake of her head. She seemed to be holding her breath, and Amelia found herself doing the same.
Another few minutes of silence passed in the same manner before Amelia removed her hand, sitting back in her seat and watching her friend cycle through various expressions of discomfort, refusing to respond to any of Amelia’s attempts at questioning. After a half-hour of no improvement, a rustle near the fire stole her attention, and Amelia turned beseeching eyes on Tabby, who gestured toward the wall with a flick of her head. Never before had Amelia’s maid summoned her in such a manner, so she rose at once and crossed the room with haste, certain Tabby had a very good reason for doing so.
“What is it?” she whispered.
Tabby’s dark brown eyes were wide, brimming with worry. “She’s not well, ma’am.”
“Yes, Andrew said as much.” Amelia had seen as much the moment she had stepped into the room.
Shaking her head, Tabby looking over Amelia’s shoulder before lowering her voice once more. “Forgive me sayin’ so, but I don’t think she is very truthful with him or you. She doesn’t want to worry Dr. Mason, and she hides the worst of it from you both. She’s done so this whole time.”
“The worst of what, exactly?”
Tabby swallowed. “Her pain, ma’am. Her discomfort.”
Amelia tried to understand what her maid implied, but it was difficult to wrap her head around it. She subtly gestured to the bed behind her. “Mrs. Halpert has been this uncomfortable the entire time she has been at Falbrooke? Why have you not brought this to my attention?”
“Not this uncomfortable, but certainly worse than she let on, though she never told me anything. I only watched her. I noticed it. But now, this…this is much worse. I think her pains have started.”
“Pains.”
“Yes, ma’am. I think”—she glanced around nervously, swallowing before continuing—“I think this baby is coming tonight.”
* * *
Charles pulled up on the reins to slow his horse, looking over his shoulder to find Andrew close behind him, Boyle to his left. “Is this where you had in mind?”
“Yes,” Andrew said, dismounting quietly and throwing the looped rope over his shoulder.
Moonlight hardly filtered through the treetops overhead, making it difficult to see very far beyond his own hand, but Charles’s eyes had adjusted enough to recognize where in Donning Grove they were. Two paces to his left and they would leave Charles’s property, but they were still close to the Tucker farm, and in a thick portion of woods where they could leave the horses undetected. Tying their reins to the low branches of a chestnut tree, they grouped together.
“I’ll go first.” Charles reiterated their plan, his voice low. He pulled the sack containing bridles higher on his shoulder. They’d come prepared for any eventuality. “I know the way to the back barn well enough. Boyle, you’ll be close behind me, and Andrew you take the rear.”
They all nodded agreement and began the trek through the woods, reaching the road within a few minutes. The moon snuck behind a puff of clouds, making it even more difficult to see—though perhaps it was a benefit in keeping them hidden as they skirted the edge of the woods. Charles could just make out the emptiness of the lane with relief. He motioned that it was clear, and they crossed the road, their footsteps silent over the packed dirt. Slipping through the shallow ditch on the other side of the road, they made it onto the Tuckers’ field and crossed the space toward the barn with quick, quiet steps. They were exposed until they reached the barn, and Charles’s heart raced from fear of being discovered.
He couldn’t afford to fail in this quest. He needed to find these horses and get them back. For himself, for Mr. Green, for the strangers in Melbury—but mostly for Amelia.
