Page 61 of A Lady in Name

His sister jumped. “I am needed.”

She began to slip back into the chamber, but Stefan reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Tell Lucy I will hold myself in readiness. If she needs anything, she has only to send to me. I will wait in the Red Saloon.”

Dion nodded, and vanished into the chamber. Stefan stared impotently at the closed door. This was undoubtedly women’s work, but with Lucy on the other side, he found himself anxious beyond anything he had known. If he could have wafted a wand and lifted her burden, he would have done so.

During a lull, Lucy straightened up, putting her hands behind her and rubbing into the small of her back. How long had it been? Two hours or more? She remembered hearing a clock striking the midday hour some time ago.

Paulina was quiescent for the moment, her eyes closed while little moans came out of her mouth with each breath. It was proving a difficult labour, and Lucy was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong. Stefan had sent to tell them the doctor was delayed, having been called out upon another case. Lucy wished he might come sooner rather than later.

Worse, from the patient’s point of view, Lord Sarclet had not yet arrived. From the maid, they had learned he was not from home, which Dion had surmised when he made no immediate appearance. But Paulina had ceased to wail for him, or indeed for anything but the cessation of her many discomforts.

Looking down at her half-sister, Lucy could not but feel sorry for her. Coaxed out of her confining clothing, she had been put into one of Mrs Ankerville’s nightgowns. It was damp with sweat, which also streaked across the plump features and ran in rivulets down her neck, mingling with the woman’s intermittent tears. Her long dark hair lay lank and lifeless about her head, except where it had worked into knots as she threshed against the pain.

“How much longer, do you think?”

Lucy turned to where Dion had sunk on to the press by the window, looking exhausted. “I do not know.” She smiled at her. “Why don’t you go and rest, Dion? You have done enough.”

Dion sat up sharply, straightening her shoulders and putting up a determined chin. “And who will run your errands then? No, I shall remain at my post. If you can do it, then so can I.”

“That’s the spirit, Miss Dion,” came fondly from the large dame who held sway over the servants’ hall. Mrs Lovedown had proved invaluable, setting the maids to keeping up the supply of hot water; ensuring there was plenty of lemonade to administer to the patient, not to mention those working to bring her through; and in general maintaining an attitude of calm good sense which did much to ease Lucy’s path. They had been obliged to eject Paulina’s own maid, for Bannock could do nothing but weep and clutch at her mistress’s hands. Mrs Lovedown had set her to preparing an improvised cot and bandages for the swaddling, in anticipation of the arrival of the infant. A compromise which served to brighten her out of her gloom and take an onerous task out of the hands of the already overburdened maids.

All at once, Lucy was hit with a wave of tiredness, and she had all to do to remain upon her feet. Mrs Lovedown, who was sitting on the bed engaged in chafing Paulina’s hands, looked up.

“Why don’t you take a little breather, miss? Miss Dion and I will manage here for a little.”

Dion added her entreaties. “You have been working like a Trojan, Lucy. Do as Mrs Lovedown says, pray. Take a turn in the garden.”

The notion of a break from being in this room was tempting. “I would, but I am loath to leave her until the doctor should arrive.”

Dion came to her and bodily pushed her to the door. “Go! I promise I will run to fetch you the instant there should be any change.”

Thus adjured, and seeing Mrs Lovedown nodding and smiling, Lucy consented to leave the chamber. But instead of taking the recommended walk, she headed for the Red Saloon. At least she might use the time profitably to discover if Lord Sarclet had yet made his appearance. Or whether anything had been heard of the doctor.

But when she reached the saloon, she found it empty. Casting a hasty glance about, she was conscious of a drop in spirits. She had been so busy, there had been no time to remember her own concerns. Now she realised how much she had been hoping to see Stefan.

Immediately, Lucy chided herself. Had not this morning’s events shown her how urgent it was she should remove from Pennington Manor? There must be no yearning after Stefan. He was far beyond her reach.

She crossed to the window and stood looking out upon the green lawns. If only life were not so complicated. But a few short weeks ago, she had never heard of Pennington Manor. Even less had she ever imagined the secrets it would prove to hold.

A slight sound behind her made her turn her head. Stefan was standing just within the doorway, watching her. The rhythm of Lucy’s heart went out of kilter. She had forgotten it all, in the press of Paulina’s needs. But at sight of Stefan, it swept back. The headache, which had receded into the background, and its probable cause. And those invasive dreams!

“You look tired, and no wonder,” he said.

Lucy detected awkwardness in his tone and her heart sank. What in the world had happened in his study last night? She forced a smile.

“I am all right. I was already a trifle out of sorts this morning.”

What had possessed her to mention that? She felt herself flushing and quickly turned her gaze back to the gardens below the window.

But Stefan did not pick it up. “Is there anything more I can do? You have only to say the word.”

She turned back to face him, unable to prevent the warmth within her falling into a smile. “Thank you, yes. Dion said you were within call. I am excessively grateful for it.”

“You are grateful!” He moved a step or two closer. “Good God, Lucy, it is the rest of us who have reason for gratitude! Had you not taken charge, I dread to think of the chaos.”

She laughed. “I am sure you would have managed.”