Page 50 of The Gift of Patience
“What about also making a show of the others leaving, so that the mastermind lets down his guard? Lady Westwood’s time is almost upon us, and I’d like this resolved so she can give birth in peace.”
“Then let us prepare to put on a show.”
CHAPTER 13
Patience waited for news, but what news came was not what she expected.
“Patience!” Joy rushed into the room. “Come, it’s time!”
“The baby?”
“Yes!” Then she turned and ran back up the stairs, but stopped at the landing and turned around as though she had just remembered her original purpose in coming down in the first place. “Can you tell Westwood?”
“Of course.” Patience shook her head. It was clear that Joy expected Patience to take care of everything. First, she found the butler. “Armstrong, please send for Dr. Harvey. Lady Westwood’s labour pains have begun. And please ensure we are not at home to any visitors the rest of the day—no matter how insistent they are.” At least she could have a brief reprieve from any Fagges the rest of the day.
“Very good, Miss Whitford.”
Then she knocked on the door to the study, where Westwood had been for some time discussing matters with the soldiers.
Major Stuart opened the door.
“Forgive the intrusion.”
He raised a brow at those words.
“But it appears Faith has begun her labour pains. I have already sent for the doctor.”
Instantly, her ever-calm brother-in-law looked frantic. Without a word, he took off in search of his wife.
Patience fully expected the doctor would come and pronounce that it would be days before the babe was delivered, but it was always best to at least hear that reassurance, and make certain there were no complications.
Next, she found the housekeeper and asked Mrs. Armstrong to send up the necessary supplies.
Frankly, Patience was relieved to have something to divert her worries over Rupert. If he was already becoming so amorous without a betrothal, what would he try next?
Patience climbed the stairs to check on her sister, and she could hear the moans of pain before she reached her door.
Knocking lightly, she let herself in. Faith was walking around, holding her back. Grace, Joy, and Vivienne all sat there trying to distract Faith, while Westwood was hovering.
Patience looked on with dismay. If it were her, she would want her privacy, but perhaps Faith did not wish to be alone.
Her sister saw her then half-smiled, half-grimaced as a contraction overtook her, causing her to lean over the back of a chair, gripping it with white knuckles. She beckoned Patience over as soon as the pain subsided.
“Would you like me to make everyone to leave?” Patience asked.
Faith shook her head. “No. It helps distract me. I fear this may go on forever. Would you mind sending off a letter to Hope?”
“Of course not.”
“Thank you. I am certain I will need you more later.”
“Is there anything I can send up for your comfort? I’ve asked Mrs. Armstrong to bring towels and boiling water.”
“I cannot think of a thing at this moment, but there are many here I can send if I need something. Westwood might need some distraction, however,” she whispered.
Patience kissed Faith on the forehead before leaving, somewhat grateful to be sent away for now. Perhaps she was lacking something maternal, and she would, of course, be there for Faith when needed, but spending the entire time in there would drive her mad.
What did it say about her that she’d rather be solving the mystery surrounding the missing arms? Birth was messy and painful and she did not mind delaying the reality of it as long as possible.
