Love's Vengeance (57 page)

Honore’ adjusted his stock, looking through the window beside the front door, to see Jacques Monet raise his hand in a slight greeting, as he hurried to open the door, admitting him.

“Jacques what did the doctor have to say last night? Is she doing well today?” Honore’ blurted, as he entered and Jacques closed the door behind him.

“Honore’ come in to the drawing room, Antoine and Rene’ are here also. Please—come in.” He gestured the way and Honore’ strode briskly into the drawing room, taking a seat across from Rene’ and they all sat tensely upon the edge of their chairs.

Jacques sighed heavily and took a seat with the three, sadly shaking his head, “It does not look good I am afraid. The physician is totally baffled. He gave a slight indication it may be a problem with the baby but he has never seen such before in all his years. He holds little hope if she doesn’t turn about soon.” He lifted his hands in hopelessness, “He fears the babe may be lost to her soon.” He added, gazing into the troubled eyes of the three.

“But she was fine—just weeks ago!” Rene’ whispered, “On her birthday—remember?” he looked to Antoine, “That was only three weeks ago! How can this be?”

“It is a mysterious malady.” Jacques sighed, “But look here—there is always hope. I shall not give up yet!”

“Does she know the doctor’s fears?” Antoine inquired standing and pacing about the room.

“No and I want it to remain so. She does not need that added torment. I want each of you to give her encouragement—do you understand?”

They nodded and stood from their seats. Antoine turned from the window, where he had paused to look out at the wonderful spring day, “Well,” he began, “I think it would be best if we don’t all go rushing up to her—she will know something is amiss. I shall leave now and come back later.” He clasped hands with each of his friends and with a comforting pat upon Jacques shoulder, he took his leave.

“I shall go for now also.” Rene’ stated looking to Honore’, “Go on up to her and I shall see her later today.”

Honore’ nodded solemnly and as they departed, he turned to the stairs he had climbed often of late, to Desiree’s room, where she had been unable to depart for weeks.

It was the last of April now, but spring held no joy for those within this house. In the last weeks, Desiree had been gripped by nausea and an inability to hold down food of any kind. Her slim form was becoming painfully thin, her eyes hollowed by lack of sleep and proper nourishment. She was taken by convulsions and after such an episode last night, the doctor had been sent for once again and once again he was unable to do anything.

He had learned of the spell last night shortly after it had begun, for Philippe had been present for the bout and after being hustled from the room by Bridgett, he had made his way to his house, to relate what had happened.

“Mother of God—Honore’—she is dying! I know it!” he had cried. “She is so ill and it is worse every day.”

“Philippe take it easy.” He had said gently, bringing him into his house and fixing him a stiff drink. Philippe had tossed it down his throat in an instant and then paced back and forth across the room.

“She’s much worse then?” He had asked as his eyes followed Philippe.

“I don’t know—I don’t know!” Philippe had shouted, shaking his head and running his hands frantically through his dark hair, “I never saw one of the seizures before—it was…
Mon Dieu
! They are talking of bleeding her to cleanse her blood.” he anguished, “Bloodletting! That is usually a last effort and never a good sign.”

He had calmed Philippe last night, telling him he had witnessed the fits that possessed her and that she was probably no worse off but as he entered her bedroom now and watched Bridgett and Mary help Desiree to sit up and sip some tea, he nearly burst into tears himself. Her gaunt, drawn face was a mask of fatigue and pain. Her eyes were on him and they looked dead and glazed.

“Honore’.” She croaked, “Come here.” She smiled weakly and he smiled bravely in return, hurrying to her side and taking her tiny, frail hand in his own.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked, as though unaware of her bout last night, while taking a seat in a chair at her side.

“Fine.” Desiree lied, seeing the concern in his eyes. She attempted to squeeze his hand reassuringly but the effort was barely noticed by Honore’.

“You look very dashing this morning.” She took in his tailored suit of deep plum, which set off his light hair. His blue eyes twinkled, as he grinned.

“Just for you.” He chuckled.

“You are most handsome
Monsieur
.” Desiree nodded softly, “Bridgett I cannot eat, please take this tray away.” She requested, setting her tea cup upon its saucer and waving it away, lay back against the pillows. Bridgett removed the tray from her lap, motioning to Mary and the housekeeper accompanied her from the room, leaving the two alone.

Desiree sighed weakly, “Would you read from
Shakespeare
for me Honore’?”

Honore’ picked up the bound volume from the table beside him and chuckled, “I am not near as learned as you in translating. You must be patient.”

Desiree nodded in agreement. The book was written in English and she had never thought twice about translating the words to French as she read, but she listened intently as Honore’ read slowly, with choppy and stinted pauses, from a book of sonnets.

Some time later, Desiree’s eyes closed and her breathing became shallow and regular. Honore’ lay aside the book and gazed at her beautiful face, relaxed but not peaceful. He reached up to smooth a lock of hair from her brow and then placed his large hand over her middle, feeling the baby move with vitality. He watched his hand rise and fall as the child changed position within and he felt fearful of what the future held for Desiree and her little one.

“Hold on angel.” he whispered to Desiree, with a light kiss to her temple, “Hold on.”

***

Bridgett looked around from the counter where she peeled potatoes over a pewter bowl, as the swinging door closed behind Honore’.

“Is she asleep?” she wiped her hands upon her apron while gesturing to him to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“
Oui
,” Honore’ confirmed, sitting heavily across from her and patting her folded hands upon the table top, “Are you as terrified as I Bridgett?” he smiled weakly.

“
Oui
—if she would only eat—keep something down but it seems so hopeless. The doctor is talking of enlisting a barber but Jacques and Francois spoke up against the idea for now.”

Honore’ nodded, “If only…” he paused, “I just don’t know.” He whispered.

“Just pray for them.” Bridgett’s voice shook and a tear traced down her face, “And Honore’ she is so fortunate to have you and the others. You are truly the bright spots in her life now. Thank you for spending so much time with her.”

“Bridgett, no thanks are necessary. We love her. It is as simple as that but Bridgett I would like to ask a small favor of you if I could.”

“Anything.”

“Philippe came to my home last night—in tears. He is totally devastated. If you could give him a kind word when you see him next?” Honore’ begged with concern.

“I shall. I saw his fear last night. He is having a terrible time with this.”

Honore’ nodded, “Well, I best be getting home. I shall be over tomorrow.”

Bridgett was just coming from the kitchen after Honore’s departure when she heard a weak moan coming from upstairs. Then sobs fell upon her ears and she closed her eyes, with an anguished cry of her own and with a shake of her head, hurried up the flight.

***

Bridgett rushed through the door and to the bed, as Desiree clutched at some phantom in the air, her eyes open but unseeing, “Stephen—please Stephen.”

“Shhhh…” Bridgett crooned, taking Desiree’s hands in one of her own and stroking her brow, “Desiree?
Ma Cherie
? It’s only a dream. Wake up sweet.” She soothed, gently shaking her.

Desiree’s eyes came from her dream state, wide and searching, as she stared at her nurse, “Bridgett—it’s you.”

“I’m here dear, you were having a nightmare. Everything is just fine.” She assured, sitting beside her upon the bed and patting her hand.

“No!” Desiree sobbed, “He was here—I—I saw him…” her voice broke and she covered her eyes, “I saw every detail of his face—I could feel him.”

“You are fine sweet. He was not here.” Bridgett smiled gently.

“Oh Bridgett!” Desiree cried, struggling to sit and then clutching her nurse tightly, “I love him so—and I will never be able to tell him. My mind tricks me, he haunts me in my every dream—I tell him but he never hears me—he never hears.”

“There—there child. Don’t think of him, you’ll only get yourself into a state.” Bridgett pushed her back upon the pillows, stroking her brow, fearing she may throw herself into another seizure.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Desiree felt the first pains around two in the morning and by the time the sky lightened, heralding the new day; she knew, undeniably, that this was it. The baby was coming and three weeks early. She moaned softly as the pain crept like fingers around the sides of her abdomen, then peaked at her womb and slowly receded. She struggled to lean over the side of the bed and lift the crystal bell from the table. Bridgett had given her the bell when it had become obvious that she could no longer call out loud enough to be heard, were she to need assistance.

Within moments, Bridgett burst into the room with a cheerful smile but when she looked into the glazed eyes of Desiree, panting and holding her stomach, she rushed to the bed.

“The baby.” Desiree gasped, “Its coming—I’m sure of it.”

Bridgett patted Desiree’s hand, “Now lie still, I will be only a moment, I am going to call for Mary.” Bridgett spoke calmly and hurried from the room.

Mary flew into the room, taking control of the situation with authority, as Bridgett followed close behind.

“Bridgett, send for the doctor and tell those girls downstairs we need plenty of fresh linen. Now don’t worry Desiree, it is going to be fine.” Mary assured, sitting beside her in a chair, “And Bridgett, some cool water and clothes.” Mary called after her, “Now sweet, I want you to do something for me” Mary spoke gently, “When you feel the pain come on, just breath shallow—pant and you’ll see the discomfort will seem less.”

Desiree nodded with wide eyes, as she felt the tightness beginning once more and she breathed as Mary instructed, while Mary lightly touched her belly, “Good and strong.” she nodded, “I would say we shall have a little one soon.” Then she held Desiree’s hand until the contraction ended.

With the doctor sent for, Bridgett returned, carrying a pitcher of water and linens draped over her arm. Between the two, they were able to pull the covers back from the bed and Desiree lifted her hips while they spread a clean sheet beneath her and draped another over her, leaving her gown pulled up out of the way.

With the next pain, Desiree gasped as warmth spread beneath her and Mary smiled reassuringly, “It looks as though we timed that just so.” The water soaked sheet was removed and a fresh one spread beneath her, “Now don’t get all worked up sweet, it shall be hours yet.” Mary assured, seeing the panic in Desiree’s eyes.

Bridgett looked at the pale face, the sunken and deeply circled eyes and she prayed silently that Desiree would have the strength to endure what was ahead. She mopped Desiree’s brow with a cool cloth, smiling warmly, “Just think of it sweet, soon you shall hold your little one within your arms.”

“But it is so early.” Desiree fretted, “What will become of my baby?”

“Your baby will be fine sweet,” Mary assured, “You may be further along than we thought. This little one is probably right on schedule.”

***

Desiree labored throughout the day as the physician and Mary cared for her. Bridgett alternated between giving reports of her condition to the four young men milling about below as anxious as though expectant father’s themselves and tending to Desiree. Sitting beside her in a chair, she mopped her brow and gave small sips of water.

By evening Bridgett was unable to leave her side, as the pains had become unbearable and Desiree panted and gasped as the agony swept over her again and again.

“I can’t…” she would gasp at the end of each pain, struggling to speak before the paralyzing agony engulfed her again.

“Yes you can.” Bridgett urged her after each pain, “You are doing wonderfully. I am so proud of you sweet.”

Then, all at once it seemed, the pains changed. Desiree had an overwhelming urge to push and she was urged to do so, “You are doing fine.” The silver haired doctor assured, “It will be soon now. A few more—now relax for a moment.” He smiled kindly.

Bridgett watched the concern upon his face, as he turned to wash his hands in a basin at a stand, near the door. He wasn’t certain she was going to be able to endure either. Bridgett wondered if perhaps a midwife might have been a better choice than this old country doctor but dismissed her doubts. He was equally as qualified and had delivered most of the children in the rural part of Rouen, including Desiree herself. Desiree gasped for air and then looked into Bridgett’s eyes for assurance as another pain approached. Her eyes were so fearful, Bridgett thought. The effort was taking all the strength her frail body had left in it.

With this pain, Desiree made a determined effort to be done with it and pushed with all her might. A ragged scream tore from her throat, as the doctor was about to announce the child’s head had emerged and her body went limp.

“Desiree!” Bridgett screamed.

Chapter Forty-Nine

It was not until the next morning that Desiree slowly awoke from a nightmare of death to the reality that she was alive and in her own room. Bridgett sat slumped over the bed with her head upon her folded arms. It all came flooding back to Desiree and she felt her stomach to find it, not quite flat, but much smaller than yesterday. She glanced about the room and saw no cradle, no baby anywhere.