Page 75 of Pursued Beyond Treachery
Melior’s hand relaxed, and Susannah breathed a sigh of relief. Her grip had become increasingly painful.
“As to your question.” Her Ladyship took another step toward the bed, her gaze wandering to the ceiling. “I have done this before… several times, in fact.”
All eyes turned toward Lady Braithwaite, but she steadfastly gazed at the ceiling.
“You mean, you have helped people?” Melior asked.
“Yes. And I have done”—she waved her hand in a sweeping motion to indicate the bed— “this myself.”
Something in the way the steadfast woman’s voice cracked on the last word brought tears to Susannah’s eyes. Lady Braithwaite carried herself as a goddess, far above the world she lived in, but in that moment she seemed almost human in her brokenness.
“But what can you do that the physician has not?” Melior’s voice wavered and she let her head fall back on the pillow.
Lady Braithwaite snorted. “First lesson, Lady Stanford. Physicians are not your friend, at least not when it comes to female issues. Might I surmise that he entered, looked at you without even deigning to dirty his hands by touching you, then left with inane advice to ‘let nature take its course.’”
Melior gave one sharp nod of her head, her jaw tightening.
“There are ways to speed this process along once it has started. Ones that I stumbled upon during my second and third experience.” Lady Braithwaite approached the bed and peered down. “Let me help you.”
More tears gathered in Melior’s eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
Lady Braithwaite sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over Melior’s sweaty brow, her face losing its reserve and hergreen eyes lighting with compassion. “I know,” she said softly. “I know.”
The empathy before her pushed the tears from Susannah’s eyes and down her cheeks.
“What do we do first?” Melior finally said.
Lady Braithwaite’s genuine smile surprised Susannah. Something as human as a smile seemed beyond her, but when it formed on her face the sight was glorious.
“Javenia, please summon the housekeeper,” she ordered, then turned to Susannah. “Miss Wayland, help me get Lady Stanford to her feet.”
“You want me to stand?” Panic laced Melior’s voice.
The firm tone Lady Braithwaite had taken with the others immediately gentled. “Yes, it is necessary for the process. Please trust me.”
Melior searched her face, then finally nodded.
When the housekeeper entered, Lady Braithwaite ordered her to bring the copper tub and fill it with hot water.
“But, my lady—” The housekeeper protested, her gaze sharpening on Melior supported between the two ladies.
“Do not question me, Mrs. Clark. Get it now. Can you not see that your mistress is in pain?”
The plain looking woman nodded, her hand nervously fluttering around her waist. Turning to a maid who had followed, she gave the orders and asked that a footman bring the tub.
When all was in place, Lady Braithwaite ordered everyone out of the room. Susannah stared at her, thinking she’d meant only the servants.
“You too Javenia, Miss Wayland. Lady Stanford needs quiet and calm. Squeamish misses will do her no good.”
“Miss Wayland may go, but I am staying,” Javenia protested.
Lady Braithwaite narrowed her eyes at her, but it was Melior who spoke.
“Please go, Javenia. I will have Lady Braithwaite call for you if you are needed.”
A flash of hurt crossed Miss Harris’s face and her shoulders dropped. “If that is what you wish, Mel.”
“It is.”
