Don Gutteridge - Unholy Alliance

In contrast to this unexpected formalityamong the guests was the near disarray among the servants.Priscilla Finch, Austin Bragg and Graves Chilton made such aneffort to avoid coming within five feet of one another that theirantics bordered on the comical. More than one soup bowl was tippedtoo far and the pristine tablecloth was further splotched withdroplets of misdirected burgundy. So it was with relief rather thansatisfaction that Marc heard Macaulay clear his throat noisily andcatch the attention of the table.

“Now that our supper is concluded, with ourthanks once again to Mrs. Blodgett, please feel free to use thegames room or take a brandy and cigar in the parlour. The viewbeyond the French doors is splendid and not to be missed.” Just asthe guests began to move, Macaulay looked over at Bergeron and saidin halting French, “You look as if you have not yet slept well,Erneste.”

Bergeron nodded. “Maybe tonight,” he said,without much hope in his voice.

“I have a suggestion to make. My wife takeslaudanum for her ailment, and with a full vial from Dr. Pogue totake with her to Kingston, she has left a good quantity of her oldbottle here at home.” Macaulay paused while Marc translated. “Shekeeps it on the shelf above the bathtub beside the oils and soaps.It’s clearly labelled. If you take one small teaspoonful in atisane or wine before you turn in, you will get a full night’ssleep. I guarantee it.”

“Thank you,” Bergeron said. “I try to resistdrugs, but I may have to give in tonight.”

“You have been a most gracious host,”LaFontaine said to Macaulay in English. “We shall not forget yourmany kindnesses.”

Marc stood beside Macaulay in the halloutside the dining-room, and watched Bérubé and Hincks cross intothe billiard-room. Bergeron excused himself and followed Tremblay,who had said nothing during supper, though his sour mood had donelittle to dull his appetite. The two men disappeared across therotunda and up the marble staircase. To Marc’s surprise anddelight, LaFontaine started walking beside Robert up the halltowards the parlour. As they turned into the doorway there,LaFontaine’s hand came up and rested for a moment on Robert’sshoulder.

Marc steered Macaulay into thebilliard-room.

***

Marc and Macaulay had just finished their secondhand of piquet when the butler appeared discreetly in thedoorway.

“Yes, Chilton, what is it?” Macaulay said,glancing up from his cards.

“There’s some person at the front doorwishing to see Mr. Edwards, sir. A rough-looking sort, but heclaims he has urgent news.”

Marc dropped his cards and stood up. “It hasto be Beth,” he said as panic and excitement rose up in him. “Thebaby,” he said to Macaulay, who was looking alarmed.

“Ah. Then you’d better go quickly, ol’ chap.Babies don’t wait.”

“I’ll — I’ll try and get back here tomorrowas soon as I — ”

“Don’t give it another thought. A day or twowon’t make any difference after the work we did this afternoon.Now, go!”

Marc followed Chilton up the hall to thefront door. Jasper Hogg was on the front porch, stamping hisfeet.

“Is Beth all right?” Marc asked.

“She’s gonna have the baby, Mr. Edwards! Mrs.Cobb’s already there!”

“I’ll get my coat and things, Jasper. Turnthe sleigh around.”

The skies had clouded over, but the snow on thelandscape lit their path as if it were noon on a sunny day. Jasperhad few details for Marc, except that Beth’s pains had startedcoming several hours before and his Charlene had run to fetch DoraCobb and his sister Etta had come over to watch little Maggie. Marcprayed he would be present for the birth, not wishing to bedelinquent a second time. He prayed also that it would be a safedelivery and (not without a twinge of guilt) that all would be wellenough for him to return to Elmgrove sometime tomorrow to help withthe writing of the historic accord.

Just as they pulled up in the lane besideBriar Cottage, it began to snow.

Dora Cobb, swathed in a gargantuan smock, met Marcas he came in.

“How is she?” Marc said, pulling at hisgloves.

“Don’t strain yerself,” Dora said. “The lassis fine.”

“And the babe?”

“Doin’ fine also — tucked safe in his mama’sbelly.”

“Then I’m not too late?”

“In fact, you’re about a month early.” Dorawas grinning from plump cheek to plump cheek. “Beth’s had a bout offalse labour. It’s stopped an’ she’s feelin’ a bit peakèd, butotherwise healthy as a horse in hay. Go an’ say hello.”

Marc felt both relief and disappointment ashe went into the bedroom and found Beth dozing under thecounterpane, the handle of a warming-pan protruding from its softdepths. She turned groggily, opened her eyes and said in a voicebarely above a whisper, “Oh, Marc. I’m sorry you had to be draggedaway. We figured it out a few minutes after Jasper left to fetchyou.”

Marc ignored her foolish talk and clasped herin his arms, sliding one hand down over her belly to make sure hisson was truly safe inside.

When Beth decided she’d had enough hugging,she pulled away and said, “Now, luv, you must go back. There’s noreason to stay. Dora’s left a sedative. The baby’ll likely comenext month when he’s supposed to, and I’ve got more well-wishersclutterin’ up my house than I can stand. I’m trippin’ overthem!”

“Well, it’s awfully late now. .”

“An’ snowin’ to beat the band!” Charlene saidfrom the doorway. “Jasper’s puttin’ the horse in the barn. It’s ablizzard out there. Even Dora’s decided to sleep next door.”

“Then that settles it,” Beth said. “Youstay.”

“I’ll tell Jasper,” Charlene said. “Can he — ”

“He can sleep here,” Beth said. “ On thecouch. ”

When they were alone, Marc undressed andslipped under the covers. He left the bedside candle lit. “You needto go right to sleep,” he said. “You’re looking very pale.”

“The pains stopped a while ago. I feelfine.”

“You haven’t drunk your sleepingdraught.”

Beth put a finger to his lips. “Stopstallin’. I want to hear all about it. Every last detail.”

“Only if you’ll promise to take yourmedicine.”

She rolled onto her side. “An’ you can rub mymuscle-cramps while you’re at it,” she smiled.

Charlene Huggan took it upon herself to let hermaster and mistress sleep in. It was a glorious winter morning, allsunny skies and fresh, unstained snow. The blizzard had turned outto be a brief squall, depositing a three-inch blanket of fluffacross the cityscape. The trip back to Elmgrove would be quick andsmooth.

Marc felt too rested and ready to work to beannoyed with Charlene, and Jasper had got the stove and fireplacecrackling. The cottage hummed with heat and the cosiness of home.Who cared if it was almost nine o’clock?

Marc was just about to start in on his secondhelping of sausages when Charlene’s head popped into the doorway.“Sorry to disturb you,” she said, “but there’s a policeman at thedoor.”

“Cobb?” Marc said, thinking that Dora hadreturned home and informed her husband of Marc’s arrival lastnight. Cobb often dropped by on the way to work — or during hispatrol — for coffee and a chat.

“No, sir. It’s Wilkie, I think.”

Marc got up reluctantly, stepped aroundMaggie who was tottering from chair to chair with a huge grin onher face, and went to the front door. Constable Ewan Wilkie wasindeed standing on the stoop, hopping from one foot to the other,and blowing on his mitts. He had a worried look on his face, butthat was his usual expression.

“What is it, Ewan?” Marc said warily, havingspotted a familiar-looking horse and cutter standing in front ofthe cottage.