Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (17 page)

***

“RONAN,” MATTHEW SAID as he poked his head into the Egans’ house. “It’s your turn to watch Nicholas.”

“Right,” Ronan said. He gripped Liam’s shoulder and called out to Nicholas as he grabbed his jacket. “Let’s play marbles!”

Liam watched them leave and began to pace. “It’s grand of you three to watch him for me today.”

“You knew we would,” Gabriel said as Matthew collapsed into a chair. Gabriel wiped his hands as he came out of the kitchen. “That’s the last of the dishes. I cleaned up the one that broke when the pains started.”

Liam nodded his thanks.

“I never realized the little tyke had so much energy. How does Amelia do it all day?” Matthew wondered as he laid his head against the back of the chair.

“Why is it taking so long?” Liam muttered as he continued his pacing. He walked to the dining room table and back, six steps covering the entire distance. “When it started, I thought it would be a matter of an hour or so.”

“These things take time,” Gabriel said. He settled on the other chair, having no desire to test his luck on the rickety settee.

“And I’m fortunate it started on my day off, but I can’t be missing work tomorrow,” Liam said.

“Surely you could miss a day or two,” Gabriel argued.

“A day, maybe,” Liam said. “But I need to work.”

“Are there no women who will help her?” Matthew asked.

“There are a few from the Ladies Guild, but everyone’s their own family, you know? I wish one of you were married and your wife could help here.”

Matthew and Gabriel shrugged. Whatever might have been said was interrupted by a fierce scream followed by a weak baby’s wail.

“Amelia,” Liam whispered, white as snow. He moved toward the door, but Gabriel rose, gripping his arm.

“You might not be welcomed in there, Liam.”

“That’s my wife. I should be with her,” Liam said watching the door as he heard muttered curses from behind the closed door.

“Let the doctor and midwife help her. They know what they’re doing,” Gabriel urged.

“
She’s bleedin’ worse than a stuck pig
.”

They heard through the door the doctor’s bitter exclamation.

Liam broke free of Gabriel’s grasp, flinging open the door. The midwife turned toward him, aghast and then with relief as she thrust the mewling baby in his arms. “A girl,” she said as she turned toward the doctor and Amelia. She pushed aside the doctor and took control of the situation.

Gabriel poked his head in, blanching at the smell and the overwhelming sight of an excess of blood, with fear in his heart at Amelia’s limp, ashen form on the bed. He blinked to see the midwife bent over Amelia, one hand between Amelia’s legs. He jerked his vision to look at the doctor.

“Don’t they teach you anything?” the midwife rasped. “You have to massage the uterus. It helps stanch the bleeding.”

Amelia moaned and then slowly calmed before arching in pain again.

Gabriel gripped Liam’s shoulder as he stiffened in agony watching his wife.

“It’s all right, little mother. We’ll help stop this bleeding, and then we’ll get you all cleaned up to meet your daughter.” The midwife continued her ministrations, relaxed and in control.

“Come on, Liam,” Gabriel said, gripping his arm.

“Here, take the baby,” Liam said, pushing the infant into his arms. “I need to be here with Amelia.” He moved toward the head of the bed and knelt on the floor by her. He took hold of her hand, wiped her forehead and began whispering in her ear.

Gabriel moved to the living area, holding the squirming bundle.

“Is that the baby?” Matthew asked in awe.

“Yes, and I think she’s hungry,” Gabriel said as he saw her opening her little lips and making smacking noises. He used a piece of the blanket to wipe the baby’s face clean. He traced her cheek, making cooing noises as he held her in the crook of his arm and swayed gently from side to side. He held out his pinkie, and she suckled. After a few minutes he walked around the room, telling her stories about how he had met her father.

“She’s not going to care, Gabriel,” Matthew said from his chair.

“I know, but it keeps my mind off of what is going on in there,” Gabriel said with a quick nod to the bedroom. “And I think my voice soothes her.”

“I wish Amelia had made it to the hospital in time,” Matthew said.

“I guess it all started so suddenly they didn’t have time to get her there,” Gabriel said.

“And then it turned as slow as molasses,” Matthew muttered.

“Shows we’re not in control, doesn’t it?” Gabriel said as he stared at the baby, now limp in his arms with sleep. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Matthew said as he rose to look at her. “It’s my turn to hold her.” Gabriel passed her carefully to Matthew’s arms but continued to pace.

The doctor and Liam emerged from the room. “Amelia?” Matthew and Gabriel asked at the same time.

“She will be weak for a while, but she will recover. Thankfully the midwife was here to lend her expertise as the need arose,” the doctor said. He turned to Liam. “I shall return tomorrow to examine her.”

“Yes, Doctor, thank you,” Liam said.

He showed the doctor out then collapsed into his dilapidated chair. He sat with his head in his hands, massaging his scalp.

“Liam, do you want to hold your daughter?” Matthew asked.

“Aye, I would,” he said, trying to calm his shaking. He reached for the baby, settling back into the chair and holding her in the crook of his arm. “Hello, darling,” he crooned and kissed her forehead.

“How is Amelia, Liam?” Gabriel asked.

“Alive but for the grace of God. And the midwife,” he said, looking at them with terror-filled eyes. “If she hadn’t been here…” He broke off, shaking his head.

“But she was, Liam,” Gabriel said. “Focus on that.”

“I am. It’s why I want to name the baby Anne after her. Because if she hadn’t been here, my Amelia would be gone,” he said. “Because of Midwife Anne, we have a future as a family.”

“Liam, what can we do to help?” Matthew asked.

“I’ll need to be out of work a few days. This nearly killed her, and she can’t be expected to care for two little ones in her condition. I need to find someone to come in to help for a bit,” he said. “Lord, I’m so tired.”

“We can bring food in so Amelia doesn’t worry about that,” Gabriel said as Matthew nodded.

“That would be grand,” Liam said.

“Mr. Egan,” a commanding voice from the doorway boomed.

Gabriel and Matthew stood to attention, and Liam sat upright although he did not stand due to the baby in his arms.

Midwife Anne had removed her blood-soaked apron and stood watching them in a clean navy shirtwaist. Her black hair was pulled back severely in a bun, and her serious gray eyes watched Liam as he held the baby.

“Yes, ma’am?” Liam asked.

“Mrs. Egan is resting but would like to see the baby,” she said. “I will be back later this evening to see how she does and again every day until I think she no longer needs me.”

“Thank you. I will never be able to thank you enough,” Liam said as he struggled to a standing position with the baby in his arms.

She smiled. “It is one of my greatest pleasures to help keep a family whole.” She motioned Liam into the bedroom but remained in the living area to allow them time alone. “I will see myself out,” she said to Gabriel and Matthew as she left.

***

GABRIEL RETURNED to the boardinghouse later that evening to find a letter from Jeremy. He washed and changed for bed. He turned on the bedside lamp, and leaned against the pillow and wall before opening the envelope, studying Jeremy’s handwriting for a moment.

April 3, 1901

Dear Gabe,

I have been working at the workshop you left in Boston. It is a good space, with plenty of light. I am trying to remember all that you taught me before I went to war, though I have mangled many pieces of decent wood. I wish you were here to help me.

I enjoy the solitude of my work, but wonder how I will ever support myself. Richard has been understanding, but, if he becomes serious about Florence, I wouldn’t want him to have to worry about me as well. I doubt I will ever be fit for acceptable society again. I fear the war killed all that was good in me.

I miss you, Gabe.

Your brother,

Jeremy

CHAPTER 14

“WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE who has accepted an invitation for tea today, Clarissa,” Mrs. Smythe said. She fidgeted in her seat in anticipation, patting at the skirt of her plum-colored velvet dress. “It is quite a coup, and I am sure you will be impressed.”

“Of course, Stepmother.”

“Though you never seem to be awed by anything truly remarkable. You would rather discuss the horrid newspaper stories and twaddle about women’s rights than concern yourself with your role as an upstanding woman of society.”

“As you say, Stepmother.”

“It’s not like you to be meek, Clarissa.” She slapped her hand onto the mahogany arm of her chair. “Is it that you have finally seen sense?”

“Of course, Stepmother.”

“Or is it that your insolence knows no bounds and you refuse to pay me the attention I am due?” She hissed, slapping my knee with her fan.

I flinched and focused on her.

“What have I been saying these past minutes, Clarissa?”

“Your dress is one you are proud of.”

“No, you shameless girl. Wait until I speak with your father about your actions toward me.”

“I can hardly see where you have a reason for complaint. I am sitting here, in as uncomfortable a dress as I can imagine, waiting for another of your spoiled friends, rather than doing anything of actual import with my life. I care for your daughter, although you’d rather have her cry herself to death than have one iota of love shown to her. So, Mrs. Smythe, I do not know why you’d have a reason to complain to my da.”

“Your lack of respect for your elders. For your betters. You have no regard for those around you. You think you are so superior. But you will receive your comeuppance one day. And one day soon, my girl. For that worthless laborer is never coming back to you. He never truly wanted you. You will spend your life alone and miserable, if you do not begin to heed my advice.”

“You say the same, day in and day out, Mrs. Smythe, and yet I will never believe you.”

“Where is your letter inviting you to join him? I am no longer intercepting them, thus you know, deep inside, that he hasn’t asked you. That he doesn’t want you.” She sighed and paused for a moment before beginning to speak again.

“Do you want to be poor? Dependent on the charity of your family? What will you do when your father dies? For no one will have any reason to care for you. You will be destitute with no children and no home of your own. Only bitter memories of your folly as a young woman for not heeding the advice of those who knew better.”

A gentle knocking at the front door forestalled any further conversation. I sat straight in my chair, pleating and repleating the rose-colored wool of my skirts. I glanced toward the door and blanched, becoming paler than the ivory-toned shirtwaist I wore.

“Mrs. Wright!” Mrs. Smythe simpered. “How lovely to see you again. How gratified I am to have you visit me for one of my teas.”

“I would have preferred you visit me, dear Mrs. Sullivan. The South End isn’t what it used to be. I can’t imagine having to live in such a neighborhood. So many immigrants and workers. How you must worry about your safety.” Mrs. Wright sat on the settee between Mrs. Smythe and myself. A roaring fire added a gentle glow to this part of the room. A small table in front of the settee held the tea tray, cups, and a plate full of sandwiches and cakes.

“If that isn’t just what I say to my dear husband. But he is insistent that this is a reputable neighborhood and a decent home. Oh, how I worry about my daughter growing up in such a place.” She placed a hand to her heart.

“Clarissa, girl, it’s good to see you again,” Mrs. Wright said. “I may still call you, Clarissa?”

“Ma’am, nice to see you. It’s been a few years.” I nodded my agreement to her question.

“Yes, since my foolish son failed to marry you. I am hopeful that the situation can be rectified to everyone’s liking. I hear he has been welcomed back into your home again.”

“Oh, he has. He is always welcome in the Sullivan household,” Mrs. Smythe simpered.

“Hmm … although it seems he isn’t welcomed by all who live here.” A searching look in my direction came.

“Much time has passed, Mrs. Wright. Life continues. I hope you wouldn’t think me so weak a woman as to spend years pining for him.” I smiled toward her as I handed her a cup of tea. I then prepared and passed a cup of tea to Mrs. Smythe.

“I had heard you were amenable to his suit until another took interest. Although I hear the other man is no longer … in the picture, shall we say?” Mrs. Wright took a sip of her tea. “Ah, lovely, Clarissa. You remembered how I like it prepared.”

“Clarissa is most attentive to everyone. Why she is a wonderful sister to my daughter. You should see how she dotes on her.”

“I have never doubted she would be a wonderful match for my son, dear Cameron. I am hopeful you will make me a happy old woman soon, Clarissa. You know how fond I was of you, and I still am. I would like nothing more than to welcome you into our home on Commonwealth Avenue.”

“Commonwealth Avenue! Can you imagine such a fine address? Oh, how fortunate a girl you are,” Mrs. Smythe fawned.

“I recall your concern for your French porcelain miniatures at the prospect of my marriage to Mr. Wright,” I murmured, setting my cup of tea on the table in front of me. “I don’t recall any great urgency from your family for Mr. Wright to marry me.”

“Be that as it may, I’m sure we remember the past in different hues. Yours would be tinged with bitterness, of course.”

Her placating smile set my nerves on edge.

“As for now, I am aware there are certain … formalities that need to occur. However, I have every faith in your common sense, Clarissa, and that you will soon join me and my estimable family.”