Bertrice Small - The Duchess

"I felt it move today," Allegra said to her cousin. “It was like a butterfly fluttering in my belly."

Sirena smiled. "Soon he will be like a horse, kicking and demanding to be let out of his confinement. At least that was how Georgie was with me. I want another."

The autumn came, and Allegra begun to grow rounder and rounder as the season deepened. Indeed she was larger than Honor, or even Lady Morgan had been, yet she seemed quite healthy. On the twenty-eighth of November, several weeks before she had believed the baby would be born, the Duchess of Sedgwick went into labor. The duke sent for Doctor Thatcher to come immediately.

Looking at herself in the full-length mirror, Allegra said, "I look like one of your mares about to foal. I will admit to being glad to be rid of this enormous burden. These last weeks have been awful. Why do not women speak on this instead of nattering on about all the delights of motherhood? So far I find no delight in at all." She winced as a wave of pain swept over her, almost doubling her over, an accomplishment in itself given the size of her belly.

"You don't make me feel like giving up my burden none too soon," Honor said, gazing down at her own girth.

The birthing room was well prepared with plenty of clean linens. The fireplace steamed with kettles of hot water ready for use when called for by the doctor. The ducal cradle adorned in satin and lace was ready for its occupant along with the proper amount of swaddling clothes for the baby. There was a basin set aside for cleaning the infant of blood. All waited upon the Duchess of Sedgwick to give up her baby.

"Ohhhh!" Allegra moaned, as another wave of pain washed over her body. "Damnit! Why does it hurt so, Doctor Thatcher?"

"It is a woman's lot, Your Grace," he answered.

"That, "Allegra replied, "is a most stupid answer."

The doctor looked startled at such a bold exclamation. He was used to birthing women either weeping piteously, or cursing out their husbands, or bearing their lot with dignity and stoicism.

"I believe, doctor, that my wife desires a more practical answer to her question," the duke said, close to laughter.

"Of course I do," Allegra said. "What causes the pain I am enduring now? Is the baby all right?"

"The pain, Your Grace, is caused by the spasms your body is making to help you expel your infant," Doctor Thatcher explained. "If they become too unbearable I can give you some laudanum."

"Would that not drug the child as well?" Allegra said.

"Well, yes, but…" He got no further.

"I will bear the pains," Allegra said. "Ohh hell, and damnation!"

Quinton Hunter burst out laughing, unable to help himself.

"Get out!" Allegra shouted at him. "You are responsible for my state, and I will not have you howling like a hyena at my distress. I will have them call you back when the child is born. Get out!"

"Duchess, I beg your pardon, but let me remain," he said.

"No," she said implacably. "You are banished, sir, and take poor Honor with you. She doesn't need to see this in her state."

Honor did not argue with her mistress. She hurried along after her master, saying as she went, "I'll wait in the salon, my lady."

"There, there, my lady," the housekeeper, Mrs. Crofts, said soothingly. "What do men understand? It'll all be over soon."

"Not soon enough," Allegra grumbled as her labors began in earnest.

After several hours the doctor saw the infant's head crowning, and so informed the duchess that her labors would shortly be at an end. The child's head and shoulders were born, and then as its little torso began to slip from its mother's body Doctor Thatcher gave a muffled cry of amazement.

"Zounds!"

"Well, bless my soul," Mrs. Crofts gasped, surprised, for as the baby was being born they could plainly see a tiny hand firmly grasping its right ankle.

"Get out of my way, woman," the doctor roared. "Take this infant while I attend to the other one."

"Other one?" Allegra shrieked. "What do you mean the other one?"

Mrs. Crofts took up the first child, a little girl, and hurried over to the table to clean her off. The baby was howling angrily as it was wiped free of the birthing blood with warmed oil, then carefully wrapped in the swaddling clothes. "I'll need more cloths," the housekeeper said to the goggle-eyed maid standing at her side. Then she thrust the baby at the girl. "Here, I'll get them. Put her ladyship in the cradle at once, you dolt."

"Come on, woman, I have the other one almost born!" the doctor yelled at the housekeeper.

Mrs. Crofts fairly Hew across the room with more swaddling clothes, hastily made up. She set them on the table, and said to the maidservant, "More fresh water, Mary, and do not delay." Then her face lit up with delight. "Ahh," she said, "here is his little lordship."

"There are two?" Allegra said. "I have two babies?"

"A daughter first, Your Grace," Doctor Thatcher said, "and now a son. A fine lusty son. Just listen to those cries."

Allegra, unable to help herself, burst into tears. "Let me see my babies," she begged them. "Let me see my children."

"Give me just a few minutes to complete your birthing, madame," the doctor said in kindly tones. "Then you may have your babies. Just a few moments' more business we have."

Allegra hardly noticed expelling the afterbirths, or the doctor and the little maidservant cleaning her up from her labors. She only knew she could hear the cries of her children, and those cries were music to her ears. Finally they brought the two infants to her, and put them in her arms. A great wave of emotion swept over her at the sight of the tiny faces. Unbidden, tears of happiness continued to slip down her cheeks. Then the door to her bedchamber burst open, and the duke dashed in.

He looked to his wife. He saw the two infants, one nestled in each of her arms. His mouth fell open.

"Two?" His voice was filled with emotion. "We have two?" he said.

"Two," she replied, smiling.

"Boys?" he ventured.

"Charles," she said, indicating the infant on her right, "and Vanessa," she told him, her gaze marking their daughter on her left. "I would like to name them after your parents, my lord, with your permission, of course." Then Allegra smiled brightly at him. "Is it not wonderful, my darling Quinton. We have at one stroke outdone everyone. Ocky and Sirena. Marcus and Eunice. Dree and Caroline, and Papa and Aunt Mama."

"And why shouldn't we?" he demanded with a grin. "Are you not the daughter of the richest man in England?"

"And you," she replied, "the duke with the bluest blood?"

Then he bent and kissed her, causing her to involuntarily squeeze her twins just a touch too tightly. Charles and Vanessa Hunter howled with their outrage, which only caused their parents to burst into a fit of happy laughter.

"Do you still want more?" he demanded of her.

She nodded. "I do, my dearest duke."

"Then so it shall be, Duchess, for I cannot deny the daughter of the richest man in England anything!"

“But, Vanessa, I do not understand why you want a season in London," George, Viscount Pickford, said pettishly. "Hasn't it always been assumed that you and I would marry one day?"

Lady Vanessa Hunter smiled sweetly at her suitor. "There is no contract between us, Georgie," she said. "And if you mean our parents' fond hopes, put it from your mind. And even if I do decide to marry you one day, I would still want my season in London like every girl of good breeding does. To not go to London for a season would imply that I wasn't good enough to join the yearly husband hunt. People would wonder what was the matter with me that I was married off to my childhood friend so quickly, and without even the tiniest foray into polite society. No. I am going to London."