“Flounder being the operative word,” said Arlington. “How are you and Warren, by the way? Any thaw in the air?”
August glanced out the window at the black winter night. “No, not really.”
“You’ve got to talk to him. By God, the four of us have been friends a long time.”
August didn’t reply. Yes, the four of them had been friends forever, and August would like to be friends with Warren again, but he couldn’t undo the mistakes he’d made in the past few months.
“I say, we must be nearly to the inn now,” August said instead. Arlington nodded and dropped the uncomfortable subject of his rift with Warren, because that was the sort of thing a good friend did.
*** *** ***
They arrived to Warren Manor at midday, to find the courtyard in an uproar. Minette’s heart jumped into her throat. She recognized the local physician in his dark coat and hat, carrying his bag into the main house. Her Aunt Overbrook’s coach stood by the stables.
“Something has happened,” she cried.
August grabbed her about the waist before she could open the door of the moving carriage. “Wait. Let them put the steps down.”
“Something is amiss,” Minette said. “The servants look terrified. Why is the physician here? What if something has gone wrong?”
“If something’s gone wrong, they don’t need you falling out of a carriage to make things worse,” Arlington said, peeling her fingers from the door handle so August might pull her back to sit beside him on the seat.
As soon as the carriage stopped, Minette flew down the steps and ran to the front door. Inside the house, she caught one of the servants. “Has the baby arrived yet? What is happening?”
“Oh, milady, such a time,” said the flush-faced girl, dropping a hasty curtsy. “Lady Warren is abed trying to birth the child, Lord Warren is pacing around in a panic, and the midwife’s setting up a ruckus telling him to go away. Lady Overbrook is here, and the very best physician from Cowley, the one what saved the Atkins boy last year when he fell under that horse—”
“How long? How long has Lady Warren been abed?”
“Hours now. Since last evening.”
“They are in the countess’s chambers?”
“Yes, milady, but—”
Minette left the girl and ran for the stairs. She heard August call her name but she had to go to her friend and ease her suffering any way she could. When she reached the top, she followed the sounds of agony to Josephine’s bedroom. She nearly collided with a maid carrying an armful of bloodied toweling.
“Oh, no,” Minette breathed. “Oh, please, is she all right?”
August caught up to her and took her shoulders. “I’m not sure you ought to go in. You heard the maid downstairs. Things are in confusion.”
“I must go to Josephine. If there is any way I can help, I must do my part.”
She pushed open the door, to heat and noise and more panicked servants. Her brother stood by the physician, pleading with him to stop his wife’s suffering.
“What in God’s name do you mean, this is normal?” he shouted. “Is it normal for her to cry and scream and sweat for hours? Why aren’t you doing anything?”
“Idylwild!” scolded Aunt Overbrook in her high pitched voice. “You are not helping. If you can’t be useful, you ought to go away.”
The harried midwife and her trio of assistants seemed to share the dowager’s sentiments. The midwife actually pushed Warren aside to apply a cold cloth to Josephine’s forehead as she let out another groan.
“Let me do that,” said Minette, rushing to Josephine’s side and taking the cloth from the midwife. She tried not to gawk at her sister-in-law’s belly, which had grown enormous since she’d left town. “Oh, my dearest love. I’m so sorry to find you suffering.”
“Minette, you’re here.” Josephine regarded her with an unfocused gaze. “I’m glad. But I’m afraid I won’t be very—good—company at the moment.” Her last word cut off in a grunt, followed by a ragged scream. “Help me get up,” she said with breathless urgency. “Help me to my feet. I must walk.”
Warren shook his head. “You mustn’t try to walk, Josephine. Minette, how are you?” He acknowledged her arrival with a distracted kiss. “Mopsy, tell her she must rest in bed.”
“What does the midwife say?” asked Minette.
“The midwife says she must walk,” said Aunt Overbrook, “as any lady who’s borne a child will know. I’ve worked in Women’s Charities long enough to know what’s what.” She frowned at her nephew. “Help her up, Warren, and then be gone with you, so your wife can bear your child in peace.”
Minette stared at her brother. She’d never seen him like this, wild-eyed and frantic, practically in tears.
The physician cleared his throat as Aunt Overbrook and the midwife labored to help Josephine stand up. “It’s possible that your wife will find this easier, my lord, if you were to absent yourself and allow her to preserve her modesty. You might, er, retire to a distant parlor for a drink.”
“August,” Minette cried, hurrying back to the door. “Arlington! You must take Warren away from here and get him drunk.”
“I did not say drunk,” the physician corrected from across the room.
The two men peeked in, looking rather terrified as Josephine set up another wail. “Come along,” said Arlington, beckoning Warren. “Why not leave this business to the ladies? I believe it’s customary to do so, and they appear to have matters in hand.”
Warren dug in his heels. “What if she needs me?”
“The servants will get you,” said August. “Let’s go have a drink, old chap.”
“I’m not leaving my wife.”
Arlington and August exchanged glances. “I’ll stay here, just outside the door,” said Arlington. “You go downstairs with Barrymore, and if the slightest need arises, I’ll send someone to fetch you. I swear, I’ll send someone on the spot, or come myself to drag you smartly.”
“Go on with you,” said Aunt Overbrook, prodding her nephew toward the door. “Let Josephine do what she must, without you fretting in the background. All her strength and attention are needed for this task.”
Warren gazed in anguish at his suffering wife, now plodding back and forth in her shift, clutching her back.
“It won’t be long now,” said Aunt Overbrook. “Go await the news of your firstborn like a proper man should.” The stolid dowager finally accomplished what the midwife and physician could not, and banished Warren from the chamber.
Minette walked beside Josephine, supporting her and sponging her forehead. “What can I do, dear Josie? Please, how can I help you?”
“I don’t know. I’m so tired. I don’t know if I can go on much longer. I’m... I’m scared.”
“You must be brave. Aunt Overbrook says the baby will come soon. The midwife is preparing the bedding right now. Isn’t it exciting?”
Josephine threw back her head and shouted, “I want it out of me.”
“Of course you do,” said Minette. “And out it shall come, although it’s taking a terribly long time. You’re right to be frustrated, and I think you ought to cry and scream as loud as you like.”
“They say the first one is the hardest,” said Josephine between pants. “And it’s really, really hard.”
“Perhaps, but you can do it. You’ve always been so strong.”
Josephine went to her knees. “I need to lie down again. I need to lie down.” She looked over at Minette, her pain-hazy eyes snapping to irritated focus for a moment. “Your brother did this to me, and I’ll get back at him for it someday, mark my words. I’ll punch him or something. Plant him a facer right on the nose.”
“I think you ought to. He’s definitely got it coming,” agreed Minette. “I won’t even warn him of your plans. Now take a deep breath, my dear, and rest for a moment on the bed.”
*** *** ***
Warren paced the room with such agitation, August could barely chase him down with the cl
aret.
“Take it,” he said, when Warren tried to refuse him. He put the glass in the man’s hands and led him to a chair. “You’re not doing your wife any favors, you know. Someone’s got to be the calm and steady one.”
“She’s the calm and steady one.” Warren sat heavily, and then jumped back to his feet. “She’s been at this since yesterday with hardly a complaint, only that endless crying and moaning. You can’t understand what it feels like, watching your wife suffer so.”