It was only at that moment that Araminta saw the sly smile the farmer’s wife gave her. She must have revealed her shock, for Mrs. Goodwin clicked her tongue and her lips parted to reveal her browning teeth.
Self-consciously she patted her mob cap and dropped her voice as she led them into the cool interior of the house. “I were a looker in me day, an’ a good friend o’ Millie Mobbs. We worked together, ‘er and I, ‘til I got inta the family way an’ Mr. Goodwin made an ‘onest woman o’ me. Worth ‘is while it were, jest like yer doin’ what’s worth yer while, m’lady. And don’t fink anyone’ll be the wiser. I got it all arranged. Now, ‘ere we go then. Inta the guest bedroom wot I made all cozy-like, jest for yer.”
She threw open the door to the homely, sparsely decorated room containing a bed, washstand, and two chairs beneath a window hung with blue and white printed curtains, with a view out over the paddocks.
“No neighbors round fer miles ‘bout, an’ Farmer Goodwin won’t be back from market fer anuvver day an’ a bit. I sent ‘im on ‘is way, I did, when the uvver young lady arrived.”
Jane pulled back the coverlet on the bed as she stared dubiously between Araminta and Mrs. Goodwin, obviously thinking what Araminta was thinking. Both were forestalled when the farmer’s wife reassured them, “I always ‘ave visitors ‘ere from me London days so ladies in all manner o’ finery don’t faze anyone ‘ere, let me tell yer. Now, let’s get yer shoes off, eh, m’lady. Then ya can do a bit o’ moanin’ an wotnot after I tells yer to. Up yer get, there now, jest get yerself comfortable an’ I’ll fetch yer a mug o’ porter to give yer strength.”
Araminta prepared to climb into bed, while Jane put down the small bag she was carrying, which contained a few necessities. She hoped she’d not have to remain long, but she’d have to send someone to The Grange in an hour or so with the message that she’d been accommodated by farmer Goodwin and his wife after the first labor pains had come on rapidly.
Perhaps in another three hours she could be holding the baby, or rather handing it to the midwife she knew Mrs. Mobbs was organizing and then, in the morning, she could return home.
Home without that ridiculous padding. Home to the comforts she could finally enjoy once more.
Home to the anticipation of seeing Lord Ludbridge once more.
Mrs. Goodwin returned when Jane was holding up Araminta’s fine lawn night-rail.
“Got yer one o’ mine, dearie, cos ‘er ladyship, yer mama, will think it mighty odd yer came with yer own, don’t yer think?”
Araminta shuddered when she felt the coarse linen against her delicate skin, but she suffered the indignity without complaining. At least the hateful cushion was finally a thing of the past. And soon she would be out of this dreadful place with her new babe. Mrs. Goodwin would obviously expect to be paid well for having provided this necessary service, and Araminta understood the need for keeping her onside.
Jane tucked the blankets comfortably around her, and Mrs. Goodwin was just telling her the message the boy would deliver to The Grange explaining Araminta’s predicament, when she looked up at the sound of wailing.
As the sound grew louder, Mrs. Goodwin’s smile broadened and she put her hands to her cheeks. “It’s the babe, the newborn babe; a lusty boy not an ‘our old,” she said, misty-eyed. “Soon ter be delivered inta yer arms, m’lady.”
“Indeed it is.” Mrs. Mobbs appeared in the doorway, a smile of satisfaction lighting up her sallow face. “Yer’ll want to ‘old yer new son, o’ course, m’lady.”
Shocked, Araminta stared between the child and the women. “Not really. I can see him quite well from here,” she said, waving Mrs. Mobbs away and trying to bolster her own trembling smile, for the babe was the ugliest she’d ever beheld. She tried to recall if the child to which she’d given birth was quite so unprepossessing. It certainly hadn’t been pretty. Perhaps it was just the way of newborns.
Frowning, she remarked, “It has no hair,” though that was a good thing. Her own child’s hair had been so thick and black—she shuddered, as she tried to put out of her mind the white streak that so branded its lineage. How lucky, though, that its hair had come early, giving her the chance to ensure the baby was removed.
“Many babes are bald, m’lady,” Jane said, taking the child when Araminta refused, and looking doe-eyed before she began to croon to it. Immediately it ceased its wailing and stared blankly,as if mesmerized by Jane’s plain visage.
“Well, I hope it improves in looks,” Araminta observed, worried. “Jane, you keep it. I don’t want to hold it.”
“But yer must, m’lady.”
“Don’t tell me what I must do,” Araminta snapped, closing her eyes briefly, then opening them to offer Mrs. Mobbs a beatific smile. “You’ve done your work very well, Mrs. Mobbs, and I thank you. Jane, will you give her payment, as agreed?”
Jane thrust the child into Araminta’s arms and, not looking happy at all, rummaged in the bag at the foot of the bed, withdrawing a small velvet pouch which she handed to Mrs. Mobbs.
“Most kind, m’lady,” replied the other woman, curtseying, before tipping the contents into the palm of her hand. The rubies and diamonds of Araminta’s wedding necklace glittered in the shafts of late evening sunlight, and both older women could be heard to sigh audibly.
“As this matter has been discussed already, I trust neither of you wil
l feel the necessity to revisit the events of this evening at some later date.” Araminta forced herself to smile, but hoped they heard the warning in her tone. “I have been more than generous, but this will help pay for the necessities I expect for my child, such as clothing and education. Please don’t expect me to offer more. My husband is not an easy man, and if he is ever made a party to this, it will not only be me who suffers. Do you understand?”
Mrs. Mobbs nodded. “Indeed, no one profits from quibblin’ ova matters like this, m’lady, to be sure. An ‘is Lordship’s temper ‘as bin remarked upon by me friend, Maggie Montgomery’s girls many a time. We undastand completely what yer are sayin’.” Her eyes glittered, reflecting the sharp-cut crystals from which she seemed unable to tear her gaze away. “Yer secret is safe, but there is still more we must do ter prepare the room fer yer mama’s arrival. Mrs. Goodwin, ‘ave yer the bowl of chicken blood? Oh Lordy, is that rain I ‘ear a-thunderin’down?” She sent a gleeful look in Araminta’s direction. “Well, well, ain’t that the Good Lord smilin’ on yer, m’lady. On such a dark night as this wiv our roads so poor an’ prone to floodin’, I can’t see yer poor mama makin’ it ‘ere amid the pourin’ rain. I’ll ‘ave me boy send a note ter that effect, shall I, m’lady? Reckon we might jest mention the tree wot’s fallen ova the road that leads to the ‘ouse.”
Araminta nodded. Suddenly, she felt more overwhelmed than she ever had, lying in that uncomfortable bed with Mrs. Mobbs and Mrs. Goodwin and Jane all looking at her but, worst of all, the baby grizzling in her arms, which did not smell at all nice.
A boy, was it? Well, that should please his Lordship. And surely it would improve in looks. After all, it had blue blood in its veins, both parents nobly born. She exhaled on a deep sigh. Her own child would be well looked after with a small fortune to rear it well, and it would never suffer at the hands of Debenham should he have discovered he was rearing Sir Aubrey’s cuckoo. Really, Araminta should congratulate herself for managing the situation to everyone’s satisfaction.
She was about to hand the child back to Jane, complaining that the noise it was making was hurting her ears, when a loud crack of thunder seemed almost to split the humble dwelling in two.
Jane shrieked and covered her ears, and then to everyone’s obvious shock, a loud female wailing could be heard, even above the din, growing nearer and accompanied by the sound of footsteps running down the passage. Upon a loud shriek, the door was thrust open, and a wild-eyed creature in a bloodstained night-rail hurled herself into the room and snatched the child from Araminta’s arms.