Page 59 of A Lady in Name

Dion jumped, and then she flew across the room, tugging at the bell-pull with unnecessary violence. In a moment, she was back again, wringing her hands and jumping from foot to foot in an agony of indecision. “What shall we do? What shall we do?”

Lucy had lowered Paulina back into the chair, and was engaged in holding her head up and encouraging her to breathe. She looked up with impatience and immediately realised Dion’s inexperience was sending her into panic. Lucy summoned every ounce of natural authority. “Be quiet, Dion, and listen carefully.”

The command had an effect. Dion ceased shifting from foot to foot and fixed fearful eyes on Lucy’s face.

“We need the nearest bedchamber prepared at once. Give order for it the instant the servant comes, do you understand?”

Dion nodded, the fright lessening a little in her eyes. Lady Sarclet’s groans were increasing in volume, and Lucy had to raise her voice to be heard.

“Lady Sarclet’s maid should be sent for. She is probably waiting in the hall. Ask Mrs Lovedown to come immediately to me here, for there is a lot to do.”

By this time, Hawkesbury had appeared, bearing a tray with fresh coffee on it. Dion flew to obey Lucy’s commands, running up to him at once. “Never mind the coffee, Hawkesbury. We have more important matters on hand.”

Satisfied, Lucy gave her attention to her half-sister. “We will have you in bed directly. Pray be calm.”

The woman’s eyes were cloudy with pain as she opened them. But she recognised Lucy and made a half-hearted attempt to push her away. “You. I don’t want you near me!”

“Unfortunately there is no one else,” Lucy said calmly. “Come, let me help you. I have assisted at a number of births.”

Paulina began to cry, her sobs interspersed with bitter comments directed at Lucy. “Why did it have to happen now? Why must it be you, of all people? I don’t want you, I don’t need you!”

“I am afraid that you do,” said Lucy bluntly. “There is no one else who knows what to do. At least until we have summoned a doctor to you.”

The sobs intensified. “Where is Sarclet? I want my husband! He should be here when I need him.”

Lucy did her best to soothe, one eye upon the door as she waited for the woman’s maid to make an appearance.

“Should we not make a start?” came Dion’s anxious voice behind her. “It is such a long way. I don’t know how she is to get up the stairs.”

“I can’t,” wailed Paulina. “I can’t even walk.”

“Yes, you can,” said Lucy in a voice that brooked no argument. “We will help you. Ah, here is your maid. Now, let us see.”

Lady Sarclet looked wildly round. “Bannock, why are you never where you are wanted? Come here at once! Bannock, help me.”

Lucy met Dion’s rolling eyes, and was hard put to it not to burst out laughing. Inwardly she sighed. If her half-sister resented her arrival, she was about to be wonderfully revenged. Lucy was anticipating a difficult time ahead.

Changing out of his riding gear in his bedchamber, Stefan had no inkling of the uproar into which his household had been thrown until he emerged into the gallery and came upon the cavalcade just arriving at the top of the stairs.

He halted, staring blankly at his cousin Paulina, emitting raucous groans and supported on either side by her personal maid and, of all people, Lucy. Behind them marched Mrs Lovedown, and they were accompanied by Dion, who was skipping about in great excitement. She no sooner saw her brother than she pounced.

“Stefan, thank goodness! We are at sixes and sevens. Here is Paulina upon the point of giving birth in the breakfast parlour!”

But Stefan had taken in the situation in one comprehensive glance. He wasted no time on pointless exclamations, but became immediately brisk. “What needs to be done?”

“We have a room all prepared — we are going there now. Turton has run to the kitchens, for Cook is to set water on to boil. And —” She was counting off on her fingers, but Stefan put her gently aside and addressed himself to Lucy as the cavalcade came slowly towards him.

“Let me help her. She is too heavy for you.”

Lucy looked up, a faint colour creeping into her cheeks. But she shook her head, waving him away. “I can manage perfectly. Pray summon the doctor, if you will, Stefan.”

Paulina’s groans redoubled. “Sarclet! Let him fetch Sarclet to me.”

“Oh, yes, that too,” uttered Lucy, casting him a look chock-full of entreaty.

“Immediately, cousin.”

He left them on the word, reflecting that Paulina’s coachman must be here and could readily be sent to fetch the errant husband. He ran downstairs, shouting for Hawkesbury.