Page 85 of The Lovers
“It’s ripping me apart,” Elise cried as Mistress Wynne carefully maneuvered the shoulders. Tears were rolling down Elise’s face and hot, sticky blood pooled in a basin beneath the chair’s opening.
“That’s what babies do,” Mistress Wynne said matter-of-factly. “They put ye through unbearable pain and suffering, and once ye heal, ye can’t wait to do it all again.”
Elise doubted the wisdom of those words, but she had no time to wonder if they might be true. She let out an animal scream as the child slithered from her body into the waiting hands of the midwife. Elise’s back seized and she went rigid from the pain as her legs bounced of their own accord to relieve the strain.
“Maisie, give ’er some brandy,” the midwife said as she severed the cord and took the child away to be cleaned. Elise was still shaking as Maisie held a cup to her lips. “Here, take a sip. It will help relax ye.”
Elise’s teeth chattered and made a metallic noise against the pewter cup when she tried to drink, but she managed to get a few sips of the fiery liquid down her gullet. It burned its way down, but then a nice warmth began to spread as the brandy took effect. Elise suddenly forgot all about her discomfort. The baby wasn’t crying. She tried to rise to peer around the midwife’s wide back, which hid the baby from view.
“Is it dead?” Elise cried. “Please, I need to see it.”
She cringed when she heard a resounding slap on the bottom and the child began to howl in outrage, no doubt wondering if it might be too late to return to the womb, where it had been safe and warm, and no one was hitting it on the rump.
“A fine boy, me lady. A fine boy, indeed. And very large.”
The midwife swaddled the baby, who was still screaming furiously, and showed him to Elise. She reached out and gingerlytook the child. He felt heavy in her arms, but she held on tight, terrified of dropping him. He stopped crying and opened his eyes, studying her for a long moment before closing them again and opening his tiny mouth instead.
“Put him to yer breast.”
“But I don’t have any milk,” Elise protested.
“Don’t worry. There’s enough there to sustain ’im until the wet nurse comes.”
“I don’t wish for a wet nurse. I’ll nurse him myself.”
Maisie and her mother exchanged shocked glances, but the midwife quickly rearranged her face. “Of course, me lady. As ye wish.” Her tone was indulging, but her expression said that Elise would quickly change her mind.
Elise put the baby to her breast, and he moved his little head about until he finally found what he was looking for. Elise yelped as the tiny gums clamped around the nipple and began to suck. It didn’t feel as if anything was coming out, but the baby seemed content and dropped off to sleep a few moments later.
Elise glanced behind Mistress Wynne’s shoulder, suddenly aware that the door had opened. James stood in the dim corridor. He was perfectly still, his face ghostlike in the gloom, but Elise could see the wonder in his eyes and the silly grin on his face. Their eyes met and she smiled just for him before he disappeared. They had a son, and Lord Asher had the heir he so desperately needed. Perhaps everything would work out after all.
Elise gazed down on her newborn son. Until this moment, the child in her womb did not seem real. She felt him move and knew that in time he would be born, but she had no clear idea of what to expect or how she might feel. She’d never witnessed a birth, although she had heard her mother’s muffled screams when Amy and Anne were born, and she’d held her newborn sisters,feeling proud and overcome with tenderness for the little girls. This was different, however. As she looked at her son, she felt a kind of fierce protectiveness, the likes of which she’d never known before. She was seeing her boy for the very first time, but it felt as if she’d been his mother forever, and the love she felt for this tiny human being was beyond anything she might ever feel for anyone else. The fact that the baby was James’s forged a new emotional connection between her and James, a connection which suddenly and irrevocably bound three separate beings into one whole—a family.
Elise wished that she could invite James to come into the room and allow him to hold his son, but that would be inappropriate, and quite telling to the servants, so she focused instead on the beautiful child in her arms and took an extraordinarily long time to study his every feature and become familiar with his wonderful scent. The baby slept peacefully for a short while, but then his mouth began to open and close, and his head turned from side to side, reminding Elise of a blind newborn kitten seeking its mother’s tit purely on instinct. She pulled down her shift and moved the baby closer to her breast. He began to suck fiercely, determined to get the nourishment he needed.
“Shall we send word to the master?” Mistress Benford inquired as she stood in the doorway, admiring mother and child. “He’s a fine boy, no doubt about it, me lady. And looks so like his dear papa.”
Elise almost blurted out that he did resemble James but bit her tongue just in time. Of course, people would look for a likeness between her son and Edward, and she was sure they would find it since people tended to see what they wanted to see.
“Yes, please send Pete with a message for Lord Asher. He’ll be most pleased.”
Elise smiled gently as Barbara materialized outside the room, ghostly in her white nightdress. “Take a look at your brother, Barbara,” Elise called out as she turned the baby toward Barbara. Barbara remained outside the room, kept from entering by Mistress Benford, who warned about the baby catching cold and was insisting on Barbara returning to bed immediately.
“Never seen a live one before,” Barbara said as she beheld her brother. “Always dead. Always sad.”
Elise knew that Barbara was referring to her siblings, who had never even drawn breath, and the sadness of her parents, but Elise still felt as if someone just walked over her grave. She was glad when Barbara turned and left, unimpressed with the baby.
“May I take a look at the new arrival?” James asked, all innocence as he stepped into the room, having returned with Peg and Mercy, who was bouncing with excitement. “My most sincere congratulations, your ladyship,” he said with a deep bow. “May your son know nothing but robust health, good fortune, and much love.”
“Would you like to hold him, Master James?” Elise asked, matching his innocence with her own.
“If I may.” James took the baby and studied his sated features. The child had drifted back to sleep and lay contentedly in James’s arms. Elise couldn’t help noticing the likeness between father and son. The baby had the same stubborn chin, the same full lips and dark hair as James. She was sure that no one else would notice these similarities, but she was so intimately familiar with the features of both her men that she couldn’t help but see them.
“A fine boy, my lady,” James said as he handed the baby back to Elise. “What will you call him?”
“I’ll have to wait for Lord Asher to arrive. I’m sure he’s got a name picked out for his heir.”
“Doubtless, he has,” James replied, a note of bitterness creeping into his words. James would never be able to acknowledge his child, not while his father was alive and maybe not even after, not if the child was to be the next Lord Asher.
