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“Her mother has arrived at the right time in that case,” Stone confirmed.
Mama was here? Hope surged through Jane. Mama would know what to do.
******
Mister Foote delivered her to the birthing bed, then he promptly left her to cope with the ensuing events. She felt his loss, but could otherwise do nothing about it as the Jardines were everywhere. Mama was here, holding her hand, as was a maid and a kitchen maid, who had clean cloths and warm water. One was ready with a cold compress for her forehead, and the other was packing swabs of fabric down near her legs ‘to catch the flood’ she’d said. The flood? Oh dear. Jane really had not been paying much attention to things and had no idea what would happen. The Jardine’s nurse came into the room, an air of grace and calm over her.
“All will be well, I’ve done this a few times myself.”
So reassuring and soothing. Oh goodness, if only it wasn’t so hideously painful! Another burst of agony ripped through. Could this event be any more awful? Of course, it could. Lady Jardine strolled in.
“This is not the Baron Ealing’s babe!”
No, no, this could not be happening. Not now.
“Get out!” Mama shouted as Jane had no breath to do that.
“It’s arriving far too early to be the Baron’s,” Lady Jardine declared to all the women in the room, then compounded her insult with, “She must have lain with another man before the marriage!”
Hysterical laughter erupted from Jane. “I assure you,” Puff, wince, pant, “I lay with no man before the Baron-n-n-n-aaaaahhhhhh!”
She had not intended to scream, but scream she did. One of the maids dabbed the sweat from her brow and face, while the Jardine’s nurse checked under Jane’s skirts.
“The babe is crowning! Lots of black hair, Ma’am!” Jane cried as another belt of pain took hold. Black hair. That was a good sign. “One more good push,” the Jardine’s nurse encouraged.
Epiphany yelled at her nurse, “You shouldn’t be helping. You should be tending to your own babe!”
What had she just said? Jane tried to breathe through another stab low in her spine and grunted, all the while completely sure she’d heard Lady Jardine say ‘your own babe’ rather than ‘your duties’.
Mama spoke for all in the room, “Who’s babe, Lady Jardine?”
Lady Jardine made scoffing noises. “The babe she must care for!”
“Get out,” Mama said once more.
Lady Jardine made more strange noises and then added, “I need to ensure it’s a girl and there is to be no sleight of hand!”
Jane gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might.
“Huzzah!” the nurse and kitchen maid cheered at once.
A mewling cry rang out through the room.
“It’s a boy!” The nurse said.
The kitchen maid held the wet babe aloft. Its face was crinkled, and its mouth distorted in annoyance. There was a purplish cord connected to its belly, and between its legs, the very obvious truth. It was indeed a boy. Lady Jardine said a curse word that Jane had never heard before, and collapsed on the floor.
“At least she’ll be quiet for a while,” Mama said.
Jane chuckled, exhausted, and held her arms out for the babe. The nurse and maid wiped his little face, tidied him, and wrapped him in cloth.
“My Lady,” the nurse said, “The next Baron Ealing has arrived.”
“Fetch Mister Foote,” Jane said.
“Is that wise?” Mama asked.
Epiphany was unconscious, so she wouldn’t tell.
