Adrienne Basso - How To Seduce A Sinner

“She’s fallen into an exhausted sleep, but it won’t last long.”

Fearfully, Dorothea snatched her hand away. “Then I shall let her rest while she can. I heard that there were some difficulties with the birth.”

“’Tis just taking a bit of time, that’s all. A common occurrence with a first baby.”

The midwife’s words should have offered comfort, but they did not, for she refused to meet Dorothea’s eyes when she spoke them.

“Kindly look at me, Mrs. Johnson,” Dorothea commanded. After casting several worried glances her way, the midwife finally complied. Her blank expression offered no reassurance. “My sister will deliver her baby, her babies, safely and quickly, is that understood?”

Dorothea knew she must sound utterly ridiculous, but it seemed desperately important to use every ounce of her will and determination to influence the outcome. Gwen would not lose her life giving birth to her children. She would not!

“Yes, my lady.”

“My brother-in-law believes you to be a highly qualified individual. Is he right, Mrs. Johnson?”

“Aye.” The midwife’s chest swelled with pride as she straightened her shoulders. “I’ve delivered more babes than I can count, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

“Then I expect you to use every ounce of that hard-earned skill to save my sister and her infants. She is more precious to me than I can adequately say.”

The lingering resentment in Mrs. Johnson’s eyes turned to sympathetic kindness. “I’ll do all that I can, I promise you.”

Dorothea smiled faintly. “Good. And I shall help.”

At that moment, Gwen moaned. Her body restlessly twisted from side to side as though it were trying to avoid the pain and then suddenly she arched forward. The bedcovers flew off her body. Startled, Dorothea jumped from the bed.

“What’s happening?” Gwen screeched.

Mrs. Johnson pushed past Dorothea to get to Gwen. She spoke to Gwen in a low, hushed voice, then motioned for Dorothea to come near.

“Is it really you, Dorothea?” Gwen asked in a reedy tone.

Dorothea swallowed hard, searching for a calm voice. Gwen’s eyes were enormous in her pale face, which was etched with pain and fatigue. “Yes, it’s me.” She bent near the pillow and stroked Gwen’s forehead.

The gesture appeared to calm the laboring woman. “I’m glad. It’s hard being alone. I know that Jason is near to coming out of his skin because he wants to be with me, but truly, Dorothea, I cannot bear to have him here right now.”

“Shh, don’t worry about him. Jason understands. Birthing is women’s business.” Dorothea attempted a smile. “Carter came along, so I put him in charge of your husband. No doubt they are swilling brandy together at this very moment.”

A tear slid down Gwendolyn’s cheek. “I’m so tired, Dorothea. So very tired.”

“I know, Gwen.” She wrung the water from the cloth in the bedside basin and ran the damp linen over Gwen’s brow. “I’ve just had a nice chat with Mrs. Johnson and we are in agreement. You will deliver these babies very soon. There are two?”

Gwen began nodding, then her head suddenly stilled and she gripped her belly with both hands. Dorothea felt a chill of pure fright wrap around her heart as the searing pain paralyzed her sister. Mrs. Johnson quickly appeared. She instructed Dorothea to prop several pillows behind Gwen’s back and hold her hands tightly.

And thus the long vigil began. The minutes slid into hours. At one point the maids began lighting the candles and Dorothea realized night was approaching. And still Gwendolyn screamed and panted and labored to deliver her babies.

Knowing bravado was needed, Dorothea kept up a steady stream of encouragement. At times she doubted Gwen could even hear her, but she continued to speak, rattling off happy stories from their childhood, recalling fond memories of their parents.

It was loud and messy and monstrously frightening but the miracle of life would not be denied and, with her ebbing strength, Gwen at last pushed her children into the world.

“A boy and a girl. Fancy that,” Mrs. Johnson muttered as she washed the afterbirth from the scrawny bodies of the protesting infants.

“Are they all right?” Gwen whispered.

Dorothea turned and craned her neck. “I can see their arms waving and their legs moving,” she reported with a lopsided grin. Never had she felt such a giddy sense of relief.

The bedchamber door opened. Dorothea fully expected to see her brother-in-law, but instead Emma hovered hesitantly in the doorway, her eyes blinking uncertainly. “I thought I heard…oh, dear, the baby has arrived!” Emma’s joyful expression quickly turned to puzzlement. “Two babies?”

Dorothea puffed out her cheeks. “You know our Gwen. She never does anything in half-measures.”

The midwife and her assistant brought the babies to the bed. Dorothea and Emma eagerly crowded close to get a proper look.

“Would you like to hold them?” Mrs. Johnson asked Gwendolyn. “I need to go and find your husband and tell him the good news.”

Gwen shook her head. “I fear my arms are too weak right now. Give them to my sisters instead.”

Emma squealed with delight and reached out with both arms for the nearest babe, but Dorothea hesitated. Without waiting for her consent, Mrs. Johnson laid a swaddled bundle into Dorothea’s arms. The infant nestled quietly for a few moments, then suddenly arched its back and turned its head in a frantic attempt to find her breast.

“Ah, this must be your son,” Dorothea said with a smile.

She placed the knuckle of her little finger near the babe’s mouth and he greedily latched on, sucking furiously. Meanwhile, the baby girl in Emma’s arms slept quietly and contentedly.

Jason entered the room, barreling past the maids clustered near the bed. Mrs. Johnson followed behind him. “Is she all right?” he asked the midwife. “Truly?”

“She is exhausted and jubilant, as only a new mother can be,” Mrs. Johnson remarked as she gathered a pile of soiled linens and pressed them on one of the maids.

“But she will recover, will she not? You told me she would recover,” Jason insisted, his voice rising.

“Do not carry on so, my love,” Gwendolyn scolded in a tired voice. “You will frighten our children.”

At the sound of Gwendolyn’s voice, Jason froze. His eyes darted worriedly down to his wife. Dorothea could see his throat move as he swallowed, struggling to compose himself.

“Come, Jason, and greet your son and daughter,” Dorothea said merrily, hoping to lighten the somber mood.

Her brother-in-law glanced toward the infants, his expression distracted. “In a moment.” He sat on the edge of Gwendolyn’s bed, then gently gathered her into his arms. He held her thus for a long time before Dorothea noticed his shoulders were shaking. With a start, she realized he was crying.

Turning away from the intimate moment, she walked near the window, the baby snuggled happily in her arms. Emma did the same. In unison, the new aunts began rocking to and fro, delighted to discover the babies liked it.

“Forgive the interruption.”

Dorothea tore her gaze away from the baby and found Carter standing in front of her. “You are not interrupting,” Dorothea bustled. “This is a family moment we are all thrilled to be sharing. Gwendolyn has safely delivered her babies. Look, this is her son.”

She angled her arms and raised the baby so Carter could get a good view of the child. His expression turned curious. She smiled encouragingly and he inched forward, touching his finger to the baby’s hand. At the contact, the infant’s perfectly formed fingers curled around it.

“He’s very small,” Carter whispered.