* * * *
In the early afternoon Sir Geoffrey Manning and Lady Manning arrived at Salston. It was apparent to Prudence that they had informed Ledbetter of their impending visit, but he had neglected to mention the fact to her. Which would have made little difference, except that she would have preferred to be wearing a more attractive gown in which to receive them.
As this was her first opportunity to entertain company at Salston, she would also have liked to confer with Mrs. Collins and the cook as to what tea consisted of for guests. But in the event, it hardly mattered, because the Mannings had not been there half an hour when Catherine Manning experienced the first sign of impending childbirth.
One moment she was seated quite comfortably on the red velvet chair next to Prudence's, and the next she was standing horrified in a pool of fluid. “Oh, God, I'm so sorry,” she cried. “I've ruined your chair. I told Geoffrey coming out this close to my confinement might not be the best possible idea.”
“So you did, my love,” he replied, contrite. “We'd best start for home instantly.”
His wife stared at him with understandable astonishment. “I can't ride home in a carriage, Geoffrey. Riding in a carriage would be agony if not disaster. You
know
how fast the babies come.” She looked helplessly at Prudence.
“You are not to concern yourself,” Prudence said, calm in the face of emergency. “I'll have a room prepared for you straightaway. Shall we send for your midwife?”
“Oh, if you would.” Catherine smiled tremulously at her hostess. “Though I must warn you that she hasn't made it in time for either of the last two births.”
Ledbetter looked a little pale at this announcement. “Then who delivers the baby?”
“Oh, the housekeeper did last time. The time before Geoffrey's mother was with us.”
Prudence had pulled the bell cord and instructed the footman who arrived to have Mrs. Collins see that a room was prepared immediately for Lady Manning, and to have the midwife sent for. Then she turned to Catherine and hooked her arm through her guest's. “Come. I'll take you upstairs. Once we have you comfortably in bed, we'll allow Sir Geoffrey to have a word with you, if you wish.”
Catherine was looking considerably distressed by her situation, but this prosaic plan seemed to relieve her. Prudence turned to her husband and said, “Ledbetter, would you have Mrs. Collins bring up a cup of tea for Lady Manning? And some toast perhaps? When she's there we'll consider what else needs to be done.”
“Certainly, my dear,” her husband replied, looking rather pleased with her.
Prudence refused to allow Catherine to murmur further apologies as they made their way up the stairs and down the hallway to the largest of the guest chambers. “You haven't a thing to apologize for,” she assured her companion. “I shall find it immensely exciting to have a baby arrive right here at Salston. But your children will be so disappointed not to see the new babe at once.”
“They will,” Catherine admitted. “They've been looking forward to seeing which side gets added to—the boys or the girls.”
Prudence laughed. “Well, Sir Geoffrey will just have to bring them over to see you and the child as soon as you're rested.”
“But I couldn't stay here!”
“There is nothing else you
can
do,” Prudence said reasonably. “Don't distress yourself. You have more than enough to concern you at present.”
As a pain gripped her guest at that moment, the two paused to wait it out. Prudence had been ten when her youngest sister was born, so she was not entirely unfamiliar with the routine surrounding childbed. When they came to the guest chamber, a housemaid was just finishing setting out towels. Prudence asked her to have Tessie bring a nightdress from her own room and the girl hurried off.
“Just how quickly
do
your babies come?” Prudence asked when she saw that Catherine was having another pain.
“In less than two hours,” Catherine confessed. “At least the last two have.”
Prudence grinned. “Well, we shan't have long to wait, then. Let me help you out of your gown.”
But Tessie arrived then and took this task upon herself, efficiently ridding the baronet's wife of her clothing and disposing her in bed in one of Prudence's soft cotton nightdresses. “I'll be pleased to help, if you'd like me to,” she said. “I've been at my sister's lying ins.”
“Thank you. That would be very kind,” Catherine agreed.
Prudence pulled a chair up to the bed and talked gently with her visitor until another pain came. Then she held her hand out for Catherine to grip tightly as she withstood her body's assault. “All in
such
a good cause,” Prudence murmured sympathetically.
“Well, I do love the little dears,” Catherine said when she was able to reply. “But I wouldn't mind having them a little less often.”
At the foot of the bed Tessie cleared her throat as unobtrusively as possible. “You could, you know,” she said.
Both women regarded her with astonishment.
“Forgive me.” A blush stole up her face and she shrugged her shoulders. “I didn't mean to speak out of turn. Pay no heed to me.”
There was a twinkle in Catherine's eyes, despite her present situation. “I don't think Geoffrey would take kindly to being denied. Nor, for that matter, would I care to deny myself.”
“You don't have to—refrain,” Tessie said, looking uncomfortable. “My sister said the midwife talked to her after her second came so fast on her first. Less than a year.” She shrugged again and looked pleadingly at Prudence. “I don’t mean to put myself forward, Lady Ledbetter. Only Jane has been so pleased at the results. It's been three years now since the last baby.”
Prudence had no idea whether this was a topic she should pursue or not, but fortunately they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Tessie informed them that it was Sir Geoffrey, and at Catherine's warm smile, Tessie and Prudence left the two alone together. Out in the hall, Tessie was apologetic.
“I meant no disrespect, my lady. Only ever since Jane told me about it I've thought it unfair that so few women seem to know. And a lot of the gentlemen do, but they never admit it! It hardly seems right!”
Curiosity overcame Prudence’s scruples. “What is it the gentlemen know?”
“There's something they can wear on their . . . well, you know. They call it a French letter. Jane said some of the gentry use them with their mistresses. Imagine! But not a word to their poor wives going through childbed once a twelvemonth! As though giving birth was a rare treat!”
Tessie sounded so disgusted that Prudence had to laugh. “I daresay they're only thinking of the end result, you know. Adding to their families.”
Tessie snorted. “It's not as if the quality need a number of little ones to work the farm. Begging your pardon, ma'am. I know it's none of my business one way or 'tother.”
“No, it isn't,” Prudence agreed gently but firmly. “But Lady Manning may well benefit from our discussion. I have a feeling she won't forget, and if she's interested, perhaps her own midwife can offer her some advice.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Sir Geoffrey emerged from his wife's room then, looking a little distressed. Prudence hurried over to him, asking, “Lady Manning is all right, isn't she?”
“She says so, though how she can when one of those pains grips her I cannot understand. Think you should be with her now, ma'am, if you don't mind.”
“Of course not,” Prudence assured him. “We'll send you word as soon as anything happens, Sir Geoffrey.”
“My thanks,” he said gruffly. “I know you'll take good care of her.”
“We will. Please send the midwife up directly when she arrives, but we'll be fine until then.” Prudence smiled and hurried past him into the bedchamber, followed closely by Tessie. They found Catherine grimacing with pain and rolling her head on the pillow, but she waved aside their concern.
“Perfectly normal,” she grunted. “It's almost time, I think.”
Prudence calmly advanced and removed the covers from Catherine's lower body. “The midwife hasn't arrived yet, so you must direct Tessie and me how to go on. Do you need anything?”
“Tessie might warm a blanket at the fire to wrap the babe.”
“Right away, Lady Manning.”
Catherine motioned Prudence closer. “Did you find out what she meant?” she whispered, indicating Tessie with her head.
“I did.” Prudence frowned slightly. “You'd best ask the midwife if she knows what a French letter is.”
Her guest looked mystified but smiled slightly. “To be sure I shall. I would be just as happy to have a child every
other
year. Oh!”
Prudence watched as Catherine succumbed to a fierce urge to deliver the child. To her astonishment, she could see the hair on the baby's head before the crown of the head receded once more. “Why, it's almost here. Tell me what to do.”
“When I push again,” Catherine said, puffing hard, “it will start to slide out. Make sure it's breathing.”
Though she would have liked to ask how she would know, Prudence restrained herself and awaited the moment when the baby's head emerged from Catherine's body. And then, all by itself, the little shoulders twisted and the whole body slipped right out. Prudence turned the baby's face to her and watched the infant take a great gasp of air—and begin to wail.
“It's a girl,” she said in wonder, “and she's breathing just fine.”
Catherine laughed in relief and happiness. “Julia, that's the name we decided for a girl. Oh, will you wrap her in the blanket and hand her to me? Just leave the cord attached for now.”
Tessie handed Prudence the warm blanket and Prudence carefully wrapped the fragile little being in its voluminous folds. She reminded herself to have Mrs. Collins search out a proper baby blanket that didn't envelop the poor little thing so overwhelmingly.
Prudence managed to tuck the large bundle at Catherine's side so the new mother could gaze into her child's face. “She's beautiful,” Prudence said, “just beautiful.”
Catherine touched the little cheek with a gentle finger. “And look at all that hair! None of the children have had so much when they were born. Perhaps she'll have as glorious a mass as yours one day, Lady Ledbetter.”
“Surely you must call me Prudence now,” her hostess insisted, blushing slightly at the compliment. “Shall I have Sir Geoffrey in now, or do you wish to await the midwife?”
“Best wait. But do go and tell him the news. He'll be fretting.”
Prudence nodded and moved toward the door just as the midwife was ushered into the room by Mrs. Collins. After a quick curtsy to Prudence, the midwife shook her head with frustration. “Not again, my lady! And the groom even sprung the horses! I'm surprised you would leave home so close to your time, but there . . . Forever leaving me with nothing to do.”
“I've left the last bits for you, Mrs. Rogers,” Catherine assured her, grimacing. “In fact I think that's happening right now.”
Delighted to be of some assistance after all, Mrs. Rogers moved briskly forward and Prudence escaped from the room. She could feel herself smiling right down to her toes, she was so delighted with the whole experience. A new life in the world! And she had delivered the babe—as much as anyone had. Mostly Catherine had done everything herself. What a remarkable afternoon!
Two months ago Prudence could not have contemplated the possibility of having a child anytime in the near future. And now here she was, married, with every chance that she would become enceinte shortly—if she managed to overcome her ridiculous fears. Or if her husband lost patience with her.
Prudence paused in the hallway to look out the window over the courtyard. She could envision children there playing with hoops and cricket bats, dogs barking excitedly, a nursemaid keeping a watchful eye. Ledbetter teaching his son the finer points of boxing, herself laughing when her daughter rolled down the sloping lawn in her good dress. They could be a close and loving family—if Ledbetter wouldn't leave her there alone, wouldn't abandon her while he continued his accustomed life in London.
Nonsense, she scolded herself. This was no time to worry about her husband's intentions. That little slip of the tongue of his at Sir Geoffrey's shouldn't conjure up such lowering concerns. Besides, today was not the day to allow one's spirits to be dampened by her familiar but unworthy thoughts of abandonment. Baby Julia had arrived, safe and beautiful, Catherine was well, and Prudence would be the one to bring the happy news to Sir Geoffrey.
Her smile returned. She withdrew her gaze from the courtyard and hastened down the stairs. Her husband and his friend were in the Gold Drawing Room, each with a glass in hand, both pacing about the room. They turned at her entrance and Sir Geoffrey started forward.
“You have a daughter, Sir Geoffrey. And Lady Manning is well and in wonderful spirits.” Prudence felt the prick of tears in her eyes from an excess of emotion. “Oh, she's the most beautiful child. You may go up to them in just a very few minutes.”
Ledbetter moved to shake Sir Geoffrey’s hand and thump him on the back. “Congratulations, my dear fellow! How very lucky you are to have such a fine family.” His gaze moved to Prudence. “And did the midwife arrive in time?”
Prudence's eyes glowed. “No. It was just Tessie and me there with Lady Manning, and it was the most wonderful experience, William. But the midwife is here now, so Sir Geoffrey need not worry.”
Ledbetter's brows had risen. “You delivered the baby, Prudence?”
“I did, after a fashion. Lady Manning delivered her to me, really. She has a great deal of hair, and her name is to be Julia.”
Ledbetter looked rueful. “Well done, my dear. Perhaps it won't be so very long before we have a baby of our own.”
His wife met his gaze unflinchingly. “I trust that may be the case.”
“Well, of course it will!” Sir Geoffrey exclaimed. “Nothing could be more likely. Do you think I could go up now?”
With her gaze still on Ledbetter, Prudence said, “Of course, Sir Geoffrey. I'll go with you.”
Chapter Fifteen
A more hectic day Ledbetter could not remember experiencing. Not two hours after the baby was born, all the Mannings' children arrived to greet the new member of their tribe. They were extremely excited about this advent of an infant sister, and, though they tried to be on their best behavior, their high spirits couldn't quite be contained.