Sins of Omission (6 page)

Suddenly, I was scared.  I wished that Sister Angela was with me as she had been with Frances when her time had come.  Her calming manner would be a great help right now even if she couldn’t do much to stop the pain.  I just wanted a mother-figure to help me through this. 
And what if something is wrong?
I suddenly thought.  Contractions were supposed to start out with dull pain that was far apart and grow closer and stronger, not come on so unexpectedly.  What if this wasn’t labor, but an indication that something was amiss? This pain was reminiscent of what I felt when I suffered a miscarriage.

I doubled over as a terrible pain tore through me.  I was shaking and sweating by the time it was over, though it couldn’t have lasted more than thirty seconds.  I climbed into bed and grabbed on to a pillow as if it were a life raft. 
Archie, please hurry
, I thought frantically as my body tensed in anticipation of another attack.  It came quickly, tearing me from the inside and making me gasp with shock.  My hands flew to my belly, and I wrapped my arms around myself as if I could hold back the pain that seemed to reverberate all through me.  It seemed to circle my belly and travel up my spine, making my lower back and shoulders stiff with tension.

I curled into a fetal position and wrapped my body around my belly as I waited for the doctor.  I hadn’t even realized that I was praying.  My lips were moving of their own accord, begging God to let everything be all right and to allow both me and my baby to survive.  I nearly screamed with relief when I heard the opening of the front door.  Archie was back.  I let out a low moan as another pain sliced through me, leaving me breathless.  I tried to breathe through the pain, but my breath stilled when I saw Archie’s face.  He was still wearing his cape which was dusted with fresh snow.  His lashes seemed to glitter as the snowflakes melted and turned to water, and his cheeks were ruddy with cold. 

“Where’s Doctor Durant?” I moaned.

“He’s not coming, my lady.  He’s been taken ill.  I asked his housekeeper if she might know of a midwife in the area, but she just scoffed at me and said the good doctor didn’t associate with those ignorant creatures.” 

Archie threw off his cape and came toward me as I let out a low wail of despair.  “Archie, I’m scared,” I cried.  “It hurts; oh, it really hurts.”

“Shall I go fetch his lordship?” Archie asked as I grabbed his hand.

“Don’t leave me, please.  I don’t know what to do.”

“Let me get the girls,” Archie said as he reclaimed his hand, which was red from my hard grip.  “They’ll know what to do; they are women after all.”

That was not reassuring in the least, but I let him go.  Those girls were young and ignorant.  What could they possibly know?  Perhaps the cook might be of help, but she didn’t live at the house.  She went home in the evenings to her husband and returned in the morning to prepare our
petit dejeuner
.

I rocked back and forth as another contraction seized me.  I was suddenly very warm, my cheeks burning while my forehead was covered in cold sweat.  Somewhere, a clock chimed ten o’clock.  Hugo wouldn’t be home until at least midnight. 

Archie came back into the room, his face full of determination.  “Where are the girls?” I whined. 

“Marthe is afraid, and Elodie went to the kitchen to prepare some hot water and towels.  She’ll be up shortly.  I don’t think she knows much, but she said her sister recently had a baby.”  And Archie had recently saddled a horse, but that didn’t mean that I knew how to do it by association.  Elodie would be useless.

I looked at Archie in surprise as he unbuckled his sword, removed his dagger, and began to roll up his sleeves.  He washed his hands in the basin of water and then wet a towel and brought it over to the bed.  Archie wiped my brow with the cool towel then pulled me to my feet and turned me around to face the bed.

“Bend down,” he said as he began to massage my back.  He stopped for the duration of another contraction, but then went back to work. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, shocked.

“I remember my sister’s husband saying that it helped when he massaged her back during labor.  He said it eased the tension.  I don’t know what else to do, and I need to do something,” he replied as he continued to knead my lower back.  I had to admit that it did help somewhat.  “Try to relax,” he advised, which made me want to kill him. 

“Can you relax when you are in acute pain?” I growled as another contraction silenced me.

“I’m sorry, my lady, I’m only trying to help.”

“I know you are.”  I was about to say something else, but I simply couldn’t form the words.  The pain was so intense that my knees buckled, and I slid to the floor screaming.  I barely registered as Elodie came into the room carrying a bucket of hot water and a stack of clean towels.  She looked shocked, but didn’t say anything as she pulled back the bedding and covered the mattress with a layer of towels to keep it from being ruined. 

I wanted to keep quiet, but I no longer had any control.  The pain subsided for only a short while before coming again and again in relentless waves of torture.  I was screaming and rocking back and forth on the floor as Archie tried to get me back onto the bed. 

“Come now, you need to lie down.  You don’t want your baby to fall on the floor,” he said soothingly as he finally managed to help me onto the high bed.  I arched my back and spread my legs as the pain dictated.  The sweat running down my face stung my eyes, and Elodie tried to dab at it with a damp towel as she bent over me.  Her light eyes were round with worry, but she kept smiling reassuringly and prattling in French.  I grabbed her hand and held on for dear life until she began to scream with pain.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Here, take mine,” Archie offered, and I grabbed onto his hand with all my strength.  I could barely see or hear anything by that point.  All my awareness was concentrated on what was happening inside my body, all my senses attuned to my womb.  My belly was heaving, and suddenly I let out a primal, low scream. My pelvic bones felt as if they were being pried apart.  The pain was so unbearable that I could no longer even speak.  I was roaring with agony as I bore down to keep my bones from breaking.  Archie’s arm was covered in scratches, but he didn’t peep as he tried to talk to me.

“It can’t be long now.  It must be coming.”  I stared at him in alarm.  Was it really possible for the baby to come so quickly?  Labor usually lasted for hours, but I couldn’t survive hours of this; it was too intense.  My back felt as if it would snap from the tension, and the acute pain of the contractions seemed to have morphed into pressure. 

I slid my free hand between my legs and felt the hard, smooth curve of the baby’s skull.  It was just the top of the head, but it was obviously time to push.  My body knew what to do, and I pushed as hard as I could.  I felt terrible pressure building up in my body as nothing happened.  I continued to push, but the head seemed to be firmly lodged in the perineum.  I didn’t know it was possible to feel such pain.  I was being torn apart, eviscerated.  I was no longer screaming, but growling, which scared Elodie, who fled the room in tears. 

I wasn’t even aware of Hugo until his face loomed above me.  He was white to the roots of his hair, but it wasn’t rice powder; it was shock.  He was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear him above the roaring in my ears.  I was dying; I knew it.  I was a throbbing, raging, nucleus of unbearable pain.  I was completely incoherent as my body heaved with every push.  Archie was behind me now, supporting my back as Hugo pushed my legs apart.  His hands were slick with blood as I arched my back and roared, giving this push everything I had.  The baby slithered out of my body into Hugo’s waiting hands as I collapsed back against Archie, crying and shaking.  The pain had receded somewhat, but my tender tissues were on fire from being stretched so much.  I couldn’t even move my legs.  They were bouncing on the bed from the strain that my body needed to release.  I felt as if my spine had been broken in two, and my head ached terribly from the pressure of pushing. 

Hugo left the baby between my legs as he reached for Archie’s dagger and cut the umbilical cord, severing the child from me.  He wrapped the baby in a blanket and held it, unsure of what to do next. 

“You must clean its mouth and nose,” Frances said forcefully as she swept into the room.  She took the baby from Hugo and went about gently cleaning its face with a damp handkerchief.  Only a moment ago I had been relieved to feel less pain, but now my heart was hammering, tears running down my face as I tried to see around Frances.

“It’s not crying,” I wailed.  My voice was raspy from screaming, so my cry came out as a whisper, but I didn’t care.  “It’s not crying.  Please make it cry.”  I was thrashing again, trying to get to my baby.  Frances looked terrified, confirming my worst suspicions.  I watched, horrified as she unwrapped the blanket and slapped the baby on the bottom.  There was a stunned moment of silence before the baby began to scream in outrage, its face turning purple from crying.  Mucus flew from its nostrils and mouth as it screamed, but I didn’t care.  It was alive, blessedly alive.  Frances threw me a look of apology as she wrapped the baby back up and handed it to me.  I held it close to me as it calmed down and seemed to settle.  A tiny hand escaped from the blanket and pushed against my breast.  I was sobbing with relief as I felt the baby’s stomach rise and fall as it sucked air into its lungs.  The tiny mouth was moving, but the eyes were closed against the light of the candles. 

Frances’s bodice was covered with bloodstains, but she looked on happily, proud to have been able to help.  Hugo’s shirt was utterly ruined, and his hands were still covered in blood as he sank onto the bed, just staring at me as his mind finally accepted that it was over, and we were both alive.  Archie tactfully removed himself and went to stand by the window where he wasn’t in the way. 

I suddenly realized that I no longer felt any pain.  All I felt was an overwhelming sense of wonder and a fierce love, the kind I’d never experienced in all my life.  The tiny baby had been in the world for roughly two minutes, but everything that had been important just fell away and nothing mattered except the tiny being that now snuggled against my breast.  I felt an all-encompassing joy, which could only be described as euphoria as I carefully pushed aside the blanket.  I had been so terrified that the baby was dead that I hadn’t even noticed if it was a boy or a girl.  I took a peek and smiled. 

“Hello, my funny little valentine,” I whispered to her and kissed the warm little head. 

“So, that’s it then?” Hugo asked with a smile as he drew closer and cupped the baby’s head.  He looked overcome with love as he beheld his daughter.  “Is she to be Valentine?”

We’d discussed several names over the past couple of months, but none of the names we picked seemed to fit now that we were looking at our baby.  We’d come up with several good male names, but the female names just didn’t appeal to me at all.  It was customary to give women traditional names, such as Elizabeth, Anne, or Catherine.  Most women named their daughters after whatever queen happened to be on the throne, but I felt no such compulsion, wanting my child to have a name that was even a little unique.

“Yes, I think that’s it.  Valentine Elise Everly.  What do you think?”

“I think I love it,” Hugo replied as he reached out and accepted the baby from my arms.  Elise had been his mother’s name, and although he never mentioned it, I thought it was nice to acknowledge the woman who had given him life and died at a young age in childbirth.  He held the baby close, studying her little face.  “I’ve never seen a newborn baby before.  Are they always this little?”

“You wouldn’t call her little if she just emerged from your body,” I retorted.  “I feel as if I just gave birth to a cannon ball.”

“What happened to Doctor Durant?” Hugo asked Archie as the younger man made to leave the room.

“He’s very ill.”

“God, of all the days to get ill,” Hugo said, exasperated.  “I’m so sorry you were alone,” he said to me.

“I wasn’t alone; Archie was with me.  He was a great midwife.”

“Thank you, Archie,” Hugo said emotionally as he clapped Archie on the shoulder. 

“It was nothing; just don’t expect me to do it again,” he replied with a smile.  “I might never recover.”

Hugo removed his bloodstained shirt, wadded it into a ball, and threw it into the corner to be rescued by one of the maids tomorrow.  Right now, he couldn’t think about practicalities.  Elodie had finally gone, taking with her a pile of bloodied linens and rags that she’d used to clean up the afterbirth.  Neve was asleep in the big bed, her face flushed and her forehead covered with perspiration.  Her hair clung to her face, and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes, but to Hugo she’d never looked as beautiful as she did at that moment.  He picked up the candle and walked closer to the bed to make sure she was sleeping peacefully.  Hugo touched his hand to her forehead.  She was warm, but not too hot, praise God.  Frances said that she’d also felt fevered when the milk first began to come in, so this was normal. 

Hugo left Neve to sleep and turned to the baby who was lying in a cot they’d found a few weeks ago in one of the attic bedrooms.  It was lined with fresh linens, and the little girl who was swaddled tightly in a soft blanket was sleeping soundly.  Now that no one was around, Hugo could finally drop the façade of calm and allow himself a moment of pure panic.  He’d never expected to find Neve in labor when he came home tonight, and her screams terrified him as he ran up the stairs and into their bedroom.  The baby was a few weeks early, but the fact that Doctor Durant was not in attendance was what frightened Hugo more.  Doctor Durant was the most respected
accoucheur
in Paris, but that meant little if he couldn’t attend the birth.  Hugo supposed it might have been worse had the doctor managed to attend and brought an infection with him which might have carried off both mother and child.  Thank God for Archie and his quick thinking.  Hugo had no doubt that had he and Frances not returned home in time, Archie would have managed to deliver the baby in the quiet, competent way he did everything.

Hugo returned to his chair by the fire and rested his head in his hands.  He’d heard women in labor, but had never been present during a birth.  His mind could hardly accept that a human being went through such unspeakable suffering to bring a child into the world.   Neve’s agony had been indescribable, and he’d momentarily frozen, unable to think of what to do.  Thank God for Frances, who seemed to know more than him, having given birth only a few months ago.  Hugo had a new respect for the girl when he realized that she’d gone through the same torture only to lose her child in less than a day.  How painful it must have been for her to see their baby and know that her Gabriel was lost to her forever, his grave miles away at a secret convent in the woods. 

Hugo hadn’t realized that he was crying, but hot tears snaked down his cheeks.  He wiped them away, angry with himself for being weak, but his heart thumped painfully, reminding him with every thud just how close he’d come to losing both Neve and the baby tonight, just as he nearly lost them less than six months ago when Neve had been carted off to Newgate Prison.  He suddenly felt utterly exhausted and emotionally drained.  Was there never going to be a time when everyone was just safe?  Even now, anything could still happen.  Countless babies died every day, as did their mothers who developed fevers and infections after the birth.  He had to find a physician come morning and make sure that everything was progressing normally. 

The baby began to fuss, making noises of discontent, and turning her head from side to side, her mouth opening and closing like a landed fish.  Her eyes flew open as Hugo bent over the cot, gazing at her father in the dim light of the bedroom.  Hugo carefully scooped up the child, remembering to support the head, and held her against him.  Father and daughter stared at each other for a moment before Valentine filled her tiny lungs with air and let out a cry of protest.  She kicked her legs and managed to work her arms out of the swaddling, shaking her little fists.  Hugo held her tighter, suddenly afraid of dropping the infant.  Were they all so feisty within hours of being born? 

“Give her to me,” Neve called from the bed.  “I think she must be hungry.”

Hugo eagerly surrendered the writhing, squirming bundle and watched as Neve put the baby to her breast.  Valentine instantly quieted and began to suck, her cheeks puffing out like those of a chipmunk.  Her eyes were closed in concentration, but she seemed to be content for the moment.  Neve grimaced as the baby latched on, but bit back her gasp of pain. 

“It hurts?” Hugo asked, surprised.  Nursing was so natural, yet Neve seemed to be squirming as well. 

“My nipples are tender,” she replied, “and she’s gumming them very hard.  It’s painful.”

“I’m sorry you suffered so,” Hugo said as he brushed back a curl of Neve’s golden hair.  “I would have gladly taken your pain if I could.”

“And I would have gladly given it to you,” Neve replied with a chuckle.  “I don’t know how some women do this again and again.  I felt as if I were being torn apart.  Don’t ever touch me again,” Neve said with mock seriousness.  “Well, at least not for a year or so.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to without remembering what I’d put you through,” Hugo replied.

“How is Frances?  Is she all right?” Neve asked as she shifted the baby to the other breast.

“Frances was wonderful, actually.  She made quite an impression at Luke’s soiree.  There wasn’t a man there who was immune to her charms.  Luke got quite territorial; he hardly left her side.”

“And what did Frances think of that?”

“She was gracious, but I think she was glad to leave. She’d never attended this kind of gathering before and felt quite overwhelmed by all the attention.”

“I hope you didn’t hover over her shoulder the entire evening, scaring away eager young men,” Neve said with a raised eyebrow.  She knew him too well.

“No, I spent the evening indulging in mindless chatter, false flattery, and vicious gossip.  I was on my best behavior,” Hugo replied with an impish grin.  “But when it’s time for Valentine to be introduced into society, I will be armed to the teeth and ready to challenge any man who so much as looks at her.”

“Oh, God,” Neve moaned, “don’t even talk to me about marrying her off.  She’s two hours old; let me enjoy her before you start playing the overprotective papa who’s plotting an advantageous match.”

Hugo just laughed joyfully.  He was suddenly unbearably happy.  Neve seemed to be feeling much stronger, and the baby was sucking vigorously, ravenous after her ordeal.  She seemed robust, which was all he could ask for at this moment.