Page 49 of The Nabob's Designing Daughter
Two of the Kinmarty grooms had come to provide escort, the snow having fallen all through the evening and night. Local men, they knew the way, and they led them through the difficult drifts of snow. Still, it seemed to take forever, and the sky was beginning to lighten when they reached the castle.
Clutching the bag he’d carried, Errol hustled Ann in.
They passedtwo footmen stationed in the corridor and found the duchess in bed, the duke seated beside her. A maid hovered nearby.
“It’s about time, Robillard,” the duke said.
“Shush, Andrew.” The duchess managed a wan smile. “Dr. Robillard came as soon as possible.” Her smile broadened as Ann took her hand. “And Mrs. Robillard. I’m so happy for both of you.”
“I’m sorry we were delayed, duchess,” Errol said. “How is the pain?”
“Wrenching,” the duke said. “You must do something for her.”
“I fear the hard labor will be yours, duchess,” Errol said, “but I’ll do all I can to help you.”
“We both will,” Ann said.
Errol went to the basin, sleeves hastily rolled, and scrubbed. He nodded to the maid, who handed him a towel. “Bring in more water and some fresh linens.”
What else would he need? He’d assisted with many births, but never a duke’s child.Heaven help him.
Ann caught his eye and the faint smile she sent calmed him. She was here, contained and composed.
While the duke fretted, Ann slipped to the side of the bed and held the lady through a contraction. He glanced at the mantel clock, made a mental note, and returned to the bedside.
“Fil, love.” The duke gripped her shoulders. “Good God, Robillard.Dosomething.”
Ann murmured a soothing sound.
“This is all in accord with the natural process, duke,” Errol said.
Lips pursed, the duchess eased in a breath. She didn’t appear to be a screamer, but perhaps she was sparing her husband.
He needed to examine her soon, but the duke’s presence made things more awkward.
“I’m staying right here,” the duke said.
Errol sent Ann what he hoped was a meaningful look.
The duke stroked his wife’s cheek. “Are you cold?”
“I’m fine, Andrew. Well, not entirely fine.”
Ann signaled and a maid, a different one, brought over a cup. “Have a wee sip of the caudle, and then let Errol examine you.” Ann held a cup to the duchess’s lips and glanced at him. “I had the kitchen prepare it. It’s only a weak wine posset.”
He nodded and watched her assist the duchess, with the same gentleness she’d shown the lad, Rolly.
When Ann moved back, Errol leaned over the bed and began his assessment, checking for fever, unearthing an arm and wrist to count the beats of the duchess’s pulse. Though the room was warm from a blazing fire, a heavy blanket was pulled up to her bosom.
He stepped back, deciding how to go on. From past examinations, it appeared the presentation was not breech, but he’d like to palpate the lady’s abdomen again, and measure her cervical opening.
Preferably without the duke being present.
Errol checked the clock again. Several minutes had passed. He doubted birth was imminent. And if it wasn’t, it would be helpful for the duchess to walk around the room a bit or at least change her position.
The duke whispered endearments and fussed more with the blanket, pulling it up to his wife’s chin. Errol and Ann exchanged a look.
Another contraction made the duchess gasp, quietly, her face showing her agony. Ann crawled up onto the bed on one side and held her, while the duke supported her other side.
