Page 47 of A Curse of Hope and Shadows: Part I
She could get a full night’s sleep back at the manor, she thought as she curled up next to her, putting her arm around her small, warm body and inhaling the soft lavender scent of her hair.
Baby, baby, my baby.
A shaft of moonlight fell upon her pillow, but she did not close the curtains. She thought of Dimitri and what was happening back at the Manor, and wondered why she’d yet to remove the handkerchief wrapped around her hand, and why the silk suddenly felt hot against her skin.
Adeline had no reason to be nervous when her mother went into labour for the sixth and last time. After all, she had birthed many other healthy babies, and had received the best possible care. Nothing seemed wrong.
Nothing would, until it was.
She was almost excited to share this with her. She’d been present for Louis’ birth four years earlier, but another woman had attended too. This time, it would be just the two of them.
Until it was three.
Things went smoothly and quickly, as they had a tendency to do when the woman had had other births. Only a couple of hours after the others had gone to school did Edie Elsing appear in the world, a solid, squawling lump.
“You did it, Mama!”
Georgia Elsing beamed, and held out her hands to receive her new infant.
Looking back, Adeline could never remember how long it had been before things started to go wrong, how long her mother and Edie had had together, wrapped in a tiny little bubble of bliss. She tried to remember every word she’d uttered, little trinkets to pass down to Edie when she was old enough.
“Edie. We’ll call her Edie. A bit of your father, a bit of you.”
Adeline smiled, and felt a rush of warmth she’d not felt since his death, like for a moment he was back in the room with them.
And then her mother started to bleed.
Calmly as she could, Adeline brewed her witch hazel tea, and waited for it to stop.
It didn’t, and her mother grew paler and paler.
“It may stop soon,” Georgia said, and she tugged Adeline down to the bed with her. “If it doesn’t—”
“Mama!”
“If it doesn’t, you need to go into the town and find a wetnurse. I’ve fed her once, but she’ll need more in an hour or so. Do you understand?”
Adeline shook her head, but not at the instruction. She shook her head because she knew why her mother was telling her this, what it meant, why she was doing it.
And she was not ready.
Georgia Elsing wasted no breath in telling her daughter that she was brave or strong, or that they would look after each other. These were all things Adeline knew, even if she didn’t feel them at the time.
Instead, she took her daughter in her arms, the baby wriggling between them, and sang to her until she had no more words to sing.
Slowly, the tune shimmered away, and a little while later, she did too.
Sometimes, when Adeline was busy managing the house, barking out orders and ensuring everyone was fine, she thought about how her mother’s last words were instructions and songs, and wondered if hers would be too. If her last words would be of comfort for someone else and fear of what came after for them, not a thought for herself. If even her death would be spent thinking of the inconvenience it would cause.
But she could not die.
She had far too many people depending on her.
Adeline woke with Edie’s fingers in her nose. “Morning!” The child grinned.
Adeline half groaned, half smiled, and shifted up in bed. It was barely light, still too early for anyone else to be stirring.
Knowing she was free from early morning wakeups six days of the week, and wanting to give the rest of her family a much-deserved break, she dressed promptly, swept her sister into her arms, and headed downstairs. There would be no keeping her quiet for long, so she gave her a cup of milk and a biscuit, and decided to take her off for a walk.
