A Game of Shadows (39 page)

“
She’s hemorrhaging badly,” the doctor said as he wadded up two towels and stuffed them between Louisa’s legs in an effort to reduce the bleeding.  “Please clean the instrument and hide it in my bag before you unlock the door.”

Louisa did as she was told, opening the door just in time for the nurse to barrel in with a basin of steaming water and more rags. 

“God be praised,” she exclaimed as she saw the baby lying quietly on the bed next to its mother, but no one was paying attention to the infant.  Louisa was no longer screaming, just lying silently, her face white against the linen of the sheets.  The towels between her legs were the only splash of color in a colorless world as the fabric absorbed the blood, pouring out of her body at an alarming rate.

“Here, look at your baby,” Louisa urged as she placed the mewling bundle into her niece’s arms.  “Look at him, Louisa.”  She knew there was nothing to be done, but hoped the sight of the baby might give her some strength to hold on.  “He’s beautiful.”

Louisa gazed at her son, her face full of rapture.  The little boy was still covered in smudges of blood, but the golden fuzz and blue eyes were unmistakable.  Louisa smiled beatifically, planting a kiss on the baby’s downy head. 

“He’s perfect,” she said.  “Just perfect.”

Louisa never turned around as Doctor Wells stepped away from the bed, his hands covered with her niece’s blood.  She didn’t need to look to know that there was nothing more he could do.  She was still bleeding profusely, the blood pooling between her legs and soaking through the sheets, its metallic tang filling the room. 

“What would you like to call him?” Louisa asked, tears running down her face.  She could see the life slipping out of her niece as her lips turned bluish
, her face going from pale to gray. 

“Tom,” she whispered
.  “I want to call him Tom.”  She smiled at the baby one last time before closing her eyes forever. 

“I’m so sorry.  I did everything I
could,” Doctor Wells said, taking the baby out of Louisa’s arms.  The child looked at him with round blue eyes, completely unaware that a great tragedy had just befallen him.  “Will you tell the father?”

Louisa just nodded, unable to find her voice.  Tears blurred her vision as she stumbled to the door to break Theo’s heart.  He stood outside, his face full of hope until he saw Louisa’s face.

“I’m so sorry, Theo,” Louisa managed to say before doubling over with silent sobs, tearing her apart from the inside.  She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, but he knew.  Theo’s face was frozen in an expression of such grief that Louisa had to turn away from him, unable to see his pain.  He walked into the room, sitting down next to his wife and smoothing away the hair from her face.  Doctor Wells placed the baby in his arms, giving him a chance to study his son.  Theo pulled back the blanket, caressing the cheek with his finger, tears rolling down his face.

“I’ll take good care of him.  I promise you,” he whispered, kissing Louisa on the forehead.  “Do you know what she wished to call him?” he suddenly asked, turning to Louisa, his eyes slightly out of focus. 

“Tom,” Louisa said and ran from the room, unable to bear the grief any longer.

November
1625

Virginia

Valerie stepped outside
, eager to get away from the din in the house.  She could hear Louisa scolding Evie for something she had broken, Robbie chasing Harry through the house followed by an irate Genevieve, and Kit arguing politics with Charles as Annabel begged them all to be quiet for fear of waking up the baby.  Mrs. Dolly and Minnie were in the kitchen preparing the midday meal, while Fred Taylor set off on his daily walk in the woods, probably just as eager to escape the loony bin.  The sound of hammers punctuated the noise as the workers went about building the addition to the house, which would add a large parlor downstairs and two smaller bedrooms upstairs to accommodate the extra people now residing at Rosewood Manor.

The day outside was picture perfect, the sky a cobalt
-blue with fluffy white clouds floating lazily across the brilliant sun that cast a golden glow on the changing trees, their foliage ablaze with the vivid colors of fall.  Birdsong filled the air, rivaled only by the incessant croaking of frogs coming from the reeds surrounding the pond. The sun was deceptively warm for  November, almost letting one believe that winter wasn’t around the corner and that Thanksgiving wasn’t next week.

Valerie strolled toward the pond, taking a seat on her favorite bench and enjoying a short
-lived moment of peace and quiet before someone found her.  She didn’t really mind the noise or overcrowding; they were a blessing that she was thankful for every single day since the Sheridans turned up in Virginia a few weeks ago, fleeing from the worst outbreak of plague in years.  The disease marched across England, wiping out thousands with no sign of abating as long as the weather remained warm.  Valerie cringed every time Evie sang “Ring Around the Rosie,” which she taught to Robbie and Harry, not realizing that the song, which hadn’t even been written yet, but misguidedly taught to her by her mother, was actually about the plague.  Her young voice rang through the house, singing, “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down,” making Valerie run from the room in a fit of grief.

Poor Theo had been one of the first to die and
was buried next to his young bride only a month after her death.  Thankfully, he had the foresight to send baby Tom and his wet nurse to the Sheridans as the first symptoms appeared, knowing that they would care for the child and try to keep him safe from the plague.  Aunt Maud followed, dying all alone in her home without anyone to care for her in her final moments, having been deserted by the frightened staff and left without food or water, lying in her own waste for days before finally succumbing to the illness. 

Kit wasted no time in getting the family away,
having lost his first wife and mother to the plague years before.  The Sheridans had taken a ship from Plymouth before the plague reached that part of the country, with Kit personally inspecting the crew to make sure no one was ill and the family wasn’t in danger of being infected.  Normally, he would have needed permission from the king to leave Court, but under the circumstances, the formalities had been dispensed with.  People were running like rats from a sinking ship in a desperate effort to save themselves and their loved ones.

News of Louisa’s death had come only six weeks earlier, devastating the family.
  Valerie still couldn’t think of Louisa without an unbearable pain seizing her heart, and a sense of hopelessness rolling over her with such force that it left her frozen with misery, unable to cope, but she had to go on.  She was needed more than ever, especially by Alec, who was torn apart by grief.  He’d just shut down after receiving the news of his daughter’s death, unable to accept that Louisa died thinking he hated her and couldn’t forgive her.  Deep lines were etched into his face, more gray sprinkling his dark hair.  They clung to each other like two drowning people, joined in their misery, and torn apart by their guilt.  Valerie feared to think of what might have happened had the Sheridans not arrived so unexpectedly, bringing them back to life.

Alec honored his daughter’s wish by putting a marker for her in the cemetery next to one for Finn.  They couldn’t explain
why they would choose to honor their daughter in death, but not their son, so a marker had been erected for both children, tearing their souls apart just a little bit more.  Seeing those forlorn crosses side by side was more than either one could bear.  Valerie waited until everyone but Alec had gone back to the house before reciting a poem by Mary Elizabeth Fry that her grandmother had taught her when she was a girl.  It had been read at her grandfather’s funeral, and Valerie had been deeply touched by the words, finding comfort and a sense of peace in the message.  She took Alec’s hand, reciting the words of the poem, her heart filling with the balm of hope.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

They walked away, their hands still linked, their hearts united by loss and sorrow.  It was time to heal and move forward; there were too many people who needed them to remain strong, especially
when there was so much to be done. 

T
he charges against Louisa and Kit were never dropped, so that was something that needed to be addressed as soon as they set foot in Virginia.  Fortunately, a new governor of Virginia Colony had been appointed on September 18
th
, replacing Sir Francis Wyatt with Sir George Yeardley, who was a good friend of Alec’s.  He agreed to close the case, providing that Lord Sheridan made a healthy donation to the church fund and kept his wife in check from that moment on, promising to beat her if necessary.  Kit was also asked to compensate the guard he’d assaulted during Louisa’s rescue with a few coins of silver.  Kit had never been so happy to part with money or to make a pledge to beat his wife, a promise which he took great pleasure in reminding Louisa of every time she disagreed with him.

**

Valerie waved to Alec as he came out of the barn, heading in her direction.  He looked tired but content, thrilled to have the family together again and safely away from danger.  Alec sat down next to his wife, smiling at the sleeping baby in her arms. 

“He looks more like Louisa every day despite the coloring,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I know.  He looks like his father too, and Annabel is beginning to notice that.  She remarked on it just the other day.  I think she’s starting to guess at the truth.”  Valerie kissed the rosy cheek, enjoying the lovely smell of the infant who slept peacefully, oblivious to all the goings-on at Rosewood Manor.

“I don’t think I even remember how to do this
anymore,” Alec remarked, watching the infant with a look of pure love.  He’d barely let baby Tom out of his sight since the Sheridans arrived, needing to be close to him for fear of losing another part of his daughter, a part of her that so easily could have died during the birth or of the plague.

“Don’t worry; it’s like riding a bike,” Valerie chuckled, smoothing back a blond ringlet.

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Alec gaped at her.  “Actually, I would very much like to learn to ride a bike, and I’m sure Tom would as well.”  He grinned sheepishly, reaching for the baby and cradling him against his chest protectively.

“
I hope you’re not suggesting we take him to the future?” Valerie asked, surprised.  “If we did, we’d have to stay there.  No child would be able to keep such a secret, much less be happy in either place having known the other.  Some day, Tom will go back to England and claim his inheritance, but for now, we’ve been given another chance, for which I’m truly grateful.”

“
You’re right,” replied Alec, studying the sleeping infant.  “I’ll always grieve for Louisa and miss Finn, but at this moment, I’m almost happy.”

“Me too.  It’s a new beginning
for us all,” replied Valerie, putting her head on Alec’s shoulder as baby Tom wrapped his tiny hand around her finger.  “Let’s see what it brings.”

The End

Look for
Shattered Moments: Book 5 of The Hands of Time Series
  Coming in January 2014

I hope you
’ve enjoyed this latest installment of The Hands of Time Series.  After numerous requests from fans, I intended to send Valerie and Alec to the future for a much longer stay, but it seems they weren’t ready to go
—
there was too much unfinished business in the seventeenth century.  Some of the sub-plots for this novel actually came to me as I started doing the research, popping up unexpectedly and opening up a whole new range of possibilities. 

One such find was
George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham, who was a real person, and the rumored lover of King James I, who elevated him to the highest position at Court.  They shared a deep affection, their letters to each other proclaiming love and devotion despite the fact that they were both married to women.  James often referred to Villiers as his “wife and his beloved child”, and Villiers was at James’s bedside when he died of acute dysentery in March of 1625. 

Villiers had been known to have other male lovers, some willing and some less willing, so it’s within the realm of possibility that he could have blackmailed someone into his bed.  A person accused of treason
by someone of Buckingham’s standing would never get a fair trial, even if he were someone in a position of power, so Kit’s dilemma is not as far-fetched as some might think.

The Devils of Loudun
is an actual opera written by Krzysztof Penderecki in 1968 and based on a non-fiction novel by Aldous Huxle
y
.
The mass demonic possessions of the nuns described in the book actually took place between 1632 and 1638, some years after my story takes place, but the incident was just too intriguing not to mention in some way.  It would have been fun to have Rose possessed by the Devil, but alas, the time frame didn’t fit.

The forceps
used in childbirth had been invented by the Chamberlen family some time in the seventeenth century, but were kept secret for 150 years.  There’s evidence of the use of forceps that dates as far back as 1634.  The Chamberlens were a family of French Huguenot surgeons who specialized in midwifery and eventually became obstetricians to the royal family, particularly Henriette, the wife of Charles I.  They used forceps in difficult births to extract a living child.  I doubt that a doctor in 1625 would have had access to the instrument, but it’s not impossible.

As mentioned in the Epilogue, the outbreak of plague in the summer of 1625 was catastrophic
, and claimed approximately 35,000 lives, most of those in the London area, since people lived in close proximity to each other with lack of fresh water and sanitation.  Once the disease took hold, it spread like wildfire, carried by vermin and by the sick, who were not quarantined, but were free roam among the population, infecting people they came in contact with.  Most likely, baby Tom and his nurse wouldn’t have survived, but I don’t think my readers would forgive me the death of another innocent child, especially one who could bring Valerie and Alec hope and redemption.

As ever, I love hearing from you.  Some of you e-mailed me ideas for this book and they were all wonderful.  I tried to incorporate some of them into the story.  I can be reached at
www.irinashapiro.com
.  Please don’t be shy.  Your comments and praise mean the world to me.