Page 59 of A Second Chance for Carys
The moans never quite became screams, and they were all the more heart-wrenching for it, because they betrayed Branwen’s exhaustion, anguish and determination to save her strength to help her baby along when the moment came. Carys had no idea what to do, save murmur soothing words in Welsh and bathe her forehead with a cool cloth.
The powerlessness was killing her but at least she was reassured on one point. Mistress Ivy had assured them that, although the babe was on the early side, there was nothing to worry about.
“I’ve delivered plenty such babies in my time. They just come when they’re ready, there is no stopping them. Born in the warm months, and with proper care, he will not suffer,” the woman had concluded in her soothing, matter-of-fact way.
She’d also warned them that first babies could take rather a long time to come into the world. Unfortunately, that prediction had proven all too true. Branwen had been laboring all day and for the best part of the night now, and it was showing. Her face was drawn, her hair matted with sweat, her movements slower, testimony to the strain put on her body. Would she have enoughstrength left to deliver the child? Having no experience of giving birth herself to calm her nerves, Carys felt utterly helpless, rather like a father-to-be would feel.
How ironic for a woman.
“Ah. Here we go,” Mistress Ivy declared at long last, sounding impossibly cheerful. You could have sworn she had just arrived in the room. “Now you’re going to have to push, my lady.”
“Push!” Branwen made a sound that might have been a laugh in other circumstances. “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”
“This will feel different, you’ll see.”
“How will it—” Carys squeezed her daughter’s hand in support because it was clear from the panic flaring in her eyes that she’d just understood what the woman was referring to. “Oh,” she moaned. “No. I don’t think I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. There is no other way.”
This time Branwen did scream.
Just as the first ray of sun shot above the pink horizon, the baby slithered out of her exhausted body. Something happened in Carys’ heart. It swelled, or tripped, or exploded, she wasn’t sure quite which. Mayhap all three at once. This had been the most intense experience of her life.
“A beautiful son.” She beamed as she watched the midwife clean the little body with competent gestures. The parents’ instinct had been proven right, they had been gifted with a little boy. Not that they would have minded a daughter, she was sure.
“A son,” Branwen repeated, sounding bewildered by the sudden ending to her torment. “I don’t know why, but I just knew it would be a boy. Is everything all right? I can’t hear him scream. Is he?—”
“Everything is perfect, don’t worry. Not all babies cry, you know,” Mistress Ivy soothed, placing the babe in his mother’sarms. Then she winked at Carys, as if the two of them shared a secret. “But some mothers, and even grandmothers, have been known to shed tears.”
As if on cue, Branwen started sobbing and the single tear that had been gathering in Carys’ eyes finally fell. For a long, beautiful moment mother and daughter hugged each other, the little boy nestled between them.
“I’m so proud of you, Branwenbach. Look at what you did. He’s perfect.”
“I know. I can’t believe it. It’s over and I have a beautiful babe as a reward for my efforts.” Huge amber eyes lifted to her. “I want Matthew. Please, Mam, go get him, he will be beside himself with worry.”
Without having seen the poor man, Carys knew her daughter was right. The midwife had been adamant that men were not allowed in the bedchamber during the birth. Branwen had been too racked with pain to argue and Matthew too intent on not getting on the bad side of the woman in charge of his wife’s well-being to insist but Carys could not help but feel it had been a mistake to send him away. The parents-to-be would have borne the ordeal more easily if they had been together.
She gave her instructions to the maid stationed outside the door for that very purpose. “Go tell his lordship he can come now. The babe is born, and well. Then go to bed. You look about to collapse.”
The girl nodded and disappeared down the spiral staircase.
Carys took the baby in her arms while Mistress Ivy dealt with the afterbirth and made Branwen more comfortable. Her whole body felt warm with joy. The little boy was perfect, so small yet already a person in his own right, with deep blue eyes and an impossibly small mouth. She could have watched him all day.
A moment later the door opened on a haggard Matthew. That he had not slept a wink that night was obvious. Pale, disheveledand unshaven, she had never seen him in such a state. He blanched when he saw that his wife was crying.
“Raven. Oh God, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault…I should never have— Are you all right?”
Branwen let out a laugh, the sound bursting through the last of her tears. “Yes, it is all your fault,” she said, wiping at her cheeks with slightly shaky hands. “I would never have allowed anyone else to do it. You gave me the most wonderful little boy and I love you for it. Take your son and come to me. Please, I need you both.”
Matthew walked up to Carys, looking guilty, as if he were loath to take the babe from her. But no one had more right to the little boy than he did. This man had given her daughter everything, his love, his protection, the life she deserved, a child to cherish. As if that was not enough, he had been the reason she and James had met. Had he not brought his new wife and her family to Sheridan Manor, she wouldn’t now be in a position to enjoy the gift of a grandson and a life with a man she loved and who loved her.
Smiling, she handed him the bundled up baby. He took him with the ease of a man who loved children and knew how to take care of them. Branwen had told her many times how good he was with his nieces. Carys could see that it was no boast. Her son-in-law would be the father every child dreamed of, loving and attentive.
“He has Branwen’s black hair,” he whispered, as awed as if that were a miracle, or even unusal for a baby to look like his parents.
“He does. And he has your mouth, I think. A perfect little boy.”
“Yes, perfect.” The smile he gave her shot straight to her heart. After one last nod in her direction, he walked over to the bed and bent to give his wife a tender kiss. “Oh,cariad, I thankyou for this gift from the bottom of my heart. I’m so blessed to have you both.”
