Elizabeth Meyette (34 page)

Jonathon caressed Emily’s cheek and ran his thumb along her lips.

“Emily, you are remarkable. I thank God for you every day.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to rest her head on his shoulder. Together they looked down at Grace who smiled and waved in contentment.

• • •

Ice covered the lawns and grounds surrounding Brentwood Manor on the late January morning with sleet falling in torrents making roads impassable and keeping the occupants of the manor at home. The family was at dinner when Dulcie burst into the dining room.

“Miss Deidre’s baby is coming.” She ran out toward the kitchen house to gather the necessary items.

“It will be impossible for Dr. Anderson to attend the birth,” Joanna said looking around the table, her eyes resting on Emily. “I must help her, along with Dulcie.”

Jonathon looked at Emily, too, his eyes full of sorrow. A surge of compassion rushed through her, and she looked at Joanna.

“I will help, too.”

“No, Emily. I do not want you near that woman,” Jonathon said.

“She cannot hurt me in her condition, Jonathon, and no one should bring a child into the world without help.”

He stared at her, his eyes soft and tender.

Emily and Joanna left the room and headed for the staircase. Hurrying up it, Emily heard a moan coming from Deidre’s room. Upon entering, she was shocked by the woman’s ragged appearance. Dark circles smudged the skin beneath her eyes, and her hair was matted and snarled. Seeing Emily she sneered at her.

“Get away from me you whore!” she screamed, then doubled over as another contraction grabbed her. “Oh, my God,” she cried out.

Joanna went to her bedside as Emily poured water into the basin. Casting about, she saw one of Deidre’s towels flung across a chair; she picked it up and dipped it into the water. Walking over to the bed, she started to place it on Deidre’s forehead, but the woman slapped her hand away with such force, Emily stumbled back.

“Stay away from me! I detest you!” Deidre’s voice was hoarse with hatred, and her face was screwed up in a scowl.

“Deidre, calm down, you need to focus your strength on your baby right now,” Joanna said, her voice low and soothing. She picked up the damp cloth Emily had brought over and wiped Deidre’s face. Deidre looked at her and nodded.

Dulcie entered with a stack of clean linen cloths and towels followed by Jedadiah with more water and a hot tea kettle. Jedadiah averted his eyes so he would not see the scene on the bed, and then withdrew closing the door.

Emily’s stomach clenched as she watched Deidre writhe in agony with each contraction. Had it been so painful? She could not remember now, for the minute she had looked at Grace, all memory of pain had left her. Trying not to anger Deidre anymore, Emily stayed away from the bed, instead, wringing out fresh cloths as needed and keeping the kettle hot in the fireplace.

The afternoon wore on, and Deidre’s labor intensified. As Emily observed the women tending her, she wondered if Deidre would bear a son. She wondered if the child would even live, for many times women lost babies at birth, especially their firstborn. For a moment she allowed herself to think, perhaps even hope that might be the case, but then felt sick that she could ever entertain such a thought. She shook her head to banish it. This child was Jonathon’s and like it or not, would be in their lives forever. And if it were a boy, he could change her life forever.

As the afternoon sky darkened to dusk, Deidre entered the last stage of her labor. Joanna and Dulcie propped her up as the contractions came faster and harder, and they prepared for the delivery.

Emily dug her fingernails into her palms with anxiety. Except for her own labor, she had never witnessed one, and the incredible pain Deidre was in allowed sympathy to flow over her. She wanted to help, but her presence only increased Deidre’s distress. Finally, Dulcie spoke to her.

“Miss Emily, you are either going to help raise Miss Deidre up or you are going to have to catch the child,” she said.

“Oh my,” Emily said and she hurried to take Dulcie’s place so the woman could assist the birth.

“Noooooo!” Deidre screamed trying to push Emily away, but a strong contraction caught her and she fought to breathe.

“Time to push now, Miss Deidre,” Dulcie said.

Deidre snarled, her teeth clenched and she groaned low in her throat as she leaned forward. Leaning back she rested, her eyes closed, gasping for breath.

“Again, Miss Deidre.”

“Aarrgggghhhh,” she howled as she leaned forward.

“Here is the head. One more push, Miss — ,”

“Aarrgggghhh,” she cried, and the baby emerged, a bluish, wriggling bundle that let out a lusty wail.

Emily’s heart seemed to stop beating as she held her breath.

“Congratulations, Miss Deidre. You have a beautiful baby girl.”

“Nooo!” Deidre screamed. “It is a boy! It must be a boy!”

“Well, I know the difference between a girl and a boy, and this is surely a girl.” Dulcie chuckled as she gently washed the baby.

Deidre’s eyes bored into Emily’s with hatred so tangible Emily felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Get out.” Deidre snarled at her.

Emily and Joanna lowered Deidre to the pillows, and Emily walked to the door.

“This is not over.” Deidre spat after her.

Closing the door behind her, Emily leaned against it and began to weep. Her knees gave way and she slid to the floor crying silently. Jonathon had another child, but at least he did not have a son.

• • •

Jonathon and David rose as Emily came into the parlor, and Jenny poured her a glass of hot mulled cider. Seeing the exhaustion on her face, Jonathon led her to the settee and awaited the news.

“Jonathon, you have another daughter,” Emily said quietly.

His breath came out in a long stream. “Thank God.”

He sat beside her and wrapped one arm around her shoulder, but she did not move.

“Em, are you all right?” he asked softly. He could feel her trembling and removed his longcoat to place around her shoulders. As he watched her, tears ran unchecked down her cheeks, and he brushed them away. She sat like a statue and he waited until she was ready to speak.

“Birth is a miracle, but to be there with her was like being with the devil.” Emily’s voice was barely a whisper. “I have never felt such hatred in my life.”

Jonathon drew her close, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Jenny had brought down a quilt from her bedroom and snugged it around Emily’s lap.

Jonathon’s emotions churned within him. He had another daughter, but at what cost? His wife sat beside him trembling at the shock of attending the birth. He would do whatever he could to make this right, he vowed this to himself.

Emily sat up and turned to Jonathon, her lids heavy over tired eyes.

“You should go see your daughter, Jonathon.”

“No, Love. I will stay with you.”

• • •

Emily had been sleeping soundly for over an hour as Jonathon lay beside her. She had nestled against him, her soft breath tickling his shoulder. At last she turned to her other side, rolling away from him, her breathing even and deep. He slid out from under the covers and donned his breeches and shirt. Silently, he crept out of the room and headed to the east wing.

Unlocking the door, he stepped into Deidre’s room. Dulcie sat dozing in the chair, and the cradle was tucked by the hearth. Jonathon stepped over to the cradle and looked down at the sleeping baby. Gently he lifted her into his arms noting what a good size she was, and he sat beside the fireplace gazing at her perfect face. Unwrapping the blankets, he counted her fingers and toes and removed her bonnet. Her hair was golden like her mother’s, soft and wavy. He brushed his hand across it and the baby shifted and hunted for her fist.

“Her name is Victoria,” Deidre said.

He stood and walked over to stand by the bed.

“Victoria for victory. My victory over
her
.”

“Deidre, you will destroy yourself with that hatred.”

“I want to destroy
her
. I want her to be in agony as I have been in agony since she arrived.”

“Stop, Deidre.”

“I will not stop, Jonathon. You were meant to be mine.”

“We have gone over this before … ”

The baby started to whimper, and Dulcie roused in her chair. Jonathon paced, rocking the baby in his arms to soothe her, but to no avail. Her whimpers turned to incessant cries. Dulcie took the child from Jonathon and brought her to Deidre who simply stared at the baby.

“Your baby is hungry, Miss Deidre,” Dulcie said, urging her to prepare to nurse the child.

Deidre slowly raised her hand to her shift and slipped it off of her shoulder exposing one breast; Jonathon turned away.

“There was a time you enjoyed this view, Jonathon,” she said in a low sultry voice.

Dulcie busied herself tidying up the cradle.

“As I told you, Deidre, that was long ago,” he said as he exited the room.

• • •

As Grace slept for longer periods throughout the night, Emily began to put her in the nursery affording less distraction when she and Jonathon were together in their room. At first, she was reluctant to be so far away from her baby, but she found that she slept more soundly, and Sarah, one of the maids, slept in the nursery with Grace. If Grace woke in the night, Sarah would bring the baby to Emily to nurse her.

Emily entered the cheery room one afternoon upon hearing Grace’s cries. Yellow chintz curtains framed the windows brightening the winter’s fading sunlight. Mahogany wainscoting ran along the lower walls beneath the yellow ocher paint with heart stencils in pink and green that ran along the ceiling. Several samplers that Emily had stitched during her pregnancy hung above the crib, and the wall opposite the windows had a quaint forest scene painted on it. Emily felt happy whenever she was in this room because the colors were so bright, and because Grace was here.

She crossed over to the crib and looked down at Grace who wailed louder when Emily did not immediately pick her up.

“Come here, my sweet girl,” Emily said as she lifted the complaining child. Though she ate well and was very healthy, Grace was petite. Emily sat in the rocking chair and loosened her gown as Grace started to settle down. She nursed while Emily sang to her softly. After a while, when she was satisfied, Grace would smile up at Emily, not letting go of her breast.

“You are a silly one, Grace,” Emily said softly. Grace smiled again. “You are my precious little girl.”

She tucked her finger inside Grace’s balled fist and brought it to her lips kissing the baby’s hand. She wondered if Deidre felt the same about her baby. Emily learned that she had named the child Victoria — an unusual name, Emily thought. The child was over a month old now, but Emily had not seen her. She stayed in Deidre’s room, and the weather was too inclement for Deidre to venture outside with her. She knew that Jonathon visited with the child to ensure she was taken care of properly, and he said Deidre seemed to have become more rational since the baby’s birth. Emily could not imagine anyone loving a child as much as she loved Grace, and overwhelming joy rushed through her. She nestled the baby closer. Grace giggled, and Emily could not imagine life being sweeter.

• • •

Emily lay with her head on Jonathon’s shoulder as they spoke softly in the dark. He ran his hands along her arm feeling her silken skin, and he kissed the top of her head. They spoke of ordinary things, what they had done that day, Grace’s newest efforts at grasping objects, and the news from Williamsburg about the progress of the war. Their conversation faded and they lay in silence for a while. Finally, Emily spoke and Jonathon could tell by her voice that what she said was different than the ordinary.

“Jonathon, I must ask you something.”

“What is it, Love?”

“How do you feel when you look at … at your other child?”

Jonathon shifted his position, propping up on his elbow to look down at her. Moonlight streamed in across their bed and he saw the worry in her eyes.

“I shall not lie to you, Emily. Are you sure you want to ask this question?”

Emily looked into his eyes for a moment.

“No, I am not sure, but it is eating me from inside.”

He brushed a tendril from her forehead and kissed it.

“I feel … I feel tenderness toward Victoria.”

The sound of his saying her name was a knife in Emily’s heart.

“Do you love her?”

Jonathon pondered her question for a moment trying to be honest with himself, knowing he owed her that much.

“I do.”

They lay there in silence, and he rested his head against hers.

“Emily, I would move heaven and earth to change the course of events, but there is nothing I can do to change them now. Victoria is an infant; she does not have the sin of my actions on her. When I hold her, I feel a tenderness that I cannot deny. Do I love her as I love Grace? Not at present, but I do not spend as much time with her as I do with Grace. I am so sorry if my words bring you pain, but I cannot — I will not — lie to you.”

Emily’s eyes glistened with tears that ran down along the sides of her face and into her hair.

“Does she look like you as Grace does?”

“No, she has her mother’s fair hair, and she is bigger than Grace was at birth. Where Grace is petite, Victoria is not. She is already close in size to Grace.”

Emily thought about that. She knew that Grace was healthy and thriving, and it was not unusual for babies to vary in size. As difficult as it was to hear about Victoria, Emily could not deny her curiosity.

“Thank you for your honesty, Jonathon. I must learn to accept her — no, to come to love her as she is your child and I love you so.”

Jonathon bent his head and kissed her softly. He wrapped his arms around her and dozed. Emily stared at the ceiling.

• • •

Emily was not happy that Grace and Victoria shared the nursery, but she saw the sense in it. With their expanding family, they were running out of bedrooms, and it was much easier for Sarah to tend both girls if they were in the same room. She was taken aback the first time she entered and saw both cribs, and as Grace was sleeping peacefully, she walked over to Victoria’s crib.