Colin's Conundrum: A Steamy 19th Century Romance (The Victorians Book 3) Page 8

  “What's wrong?” Daisy asked. “What is that?” her heart pounded as she feared her friend had lost some vital organ. Don't be stupid, she reminded herself. It's only the afterbirth. Dogs and cats have them too.

  “Nothing, nothing,” Mrs. Turner said, eyeing the object with concern.

  Working quickly, she tied off the baby's umbilical cord and cut it. She quickly wiped the baby's face and scooped out a mess of slime from his mouth. Unhappy with the outside world's coldness and loudness, the little one howled.

  Daisy grinned.

  “Let me see him!” Katerina exclaimed breathlessly. “Is it a him?”

  “See for yourself,” Mrs. Turner replied, extending the squalling infant towards his mother.

  “Oh, a baby boy! My boy!” Katerina leaned down and kissed the little face. The infant stopped howling and regarded his mother with solemn eyes.”

  “Doesn't he look just like your husband?” Daisy suggested.

  “He does,” Katerina agreed. “Oh, argh!” Her body tensed and she dragged herself more upright.

  “Here we go,” Mrs. Turner said cheerfully. “Good. Daisy, come here please.”

  Seeing that Katerina was back in control of herself, clutching the bedposts and bearing down, Daisy slithered off the bed and hurried to the midwife's side. Mrs. Turner wrapped the cotton square around the infant and handed him to her, settling him against her shoulder. “Here. Keep this little one warm and monitor his breathing. It's fine if he cries.”

  Though Daisy's instincts wanted to protest—surely, she shouldn't hold this near stranger's baby before his mother did—the delivery of the second twin made it necessary. She cradled the tiny boy, listening to his snuffles and whimpers. They sounded moist but not uncomfortable. She patted his back.

  Mrs. Turner eased her fingers into Katerina's birth canal. “The second baby is breech—He's coming bottom first. He's small though. I think it will be fine. Kat… Kat?”

  Katerina's head turned toward Mrs. Turner, but Daisy could see she wasn't paying attention. “Let's get your second son born.”

  A massive contraction clamped down Katerina's body before the midwife could finish speaking, and she gritted her teeth and pushed.

  “Is a slow pace such a big problem?” Daisy asked in an undertone. “Is it necessary to hurry the delivery of a breech baby?”

  “No,” Mrs. Turner replied. “It's not that. Ideally, a breech baby is delivered slowly. However, do you see the second cord here? They shared one placenta, and that can be…” she glanced at Katerina. There was no indication the laboring mother was even aware of their presence. “It can be dangerous to the second baby.”

  “Oh, dear.” Daisy snuggled the baby closer to her. Please, Lord, don't let this little one be harmed.

  Katerina bore down, growling as before, but halfway through, she stopped, panting.

  “Don't!” Mrs. Turner urged.

  “It hurts,” she wailed. “I can't, I can't.” She sagged and tried to sit down.

  “You will,” the midwife snapped, gripping her arm and forcing her back upright. “You must. You knew this would happen, Kat. We talked about it. You must draw on your inner strength for this second baby. If you want him to live, you must push him out, now!”

  Anger creased Katerina's pretty features, and that anger lent her strength. She straightened her spine and pushed. A round, plump bottom emerged, then legs and torso, bent into a bundle. Arms crossed over the little chest. Katerina paused, panting.

  “Now the head,” Mrs. Turner barked. “Push.”

  Katerina obeyed, and sure enough, the second boy slipped into the midwife's hands. Mrs. Turner exhaled noisily as she laid her hand on the baby's chest. Even from a few steps away, Daisy could see the pulse throbbing in his neck.

  He's alive! Thanks be to God!

  The midwife worked quickly, almost roughly to rub the baby with a clean cotton square. She wiped his face and patted his thighs and cheeks until the boy howled in protest.

  The women in the room all sagged. Katerina collapsed backwards onto the bed with a groan. She threw one arm over her eyes.

  Mrs. Turner, her shoulders slumped, wrapped the baby in cotton and made soothing noises.

  Daisy lowered the child she was holding away from her shoulder and looked down into his face. He regarded her for a quiet moment before screwing up his face and wailing.

  “Mrs. Bennett?” Daisy said, drawing the exhausted mother's attention to her. “I think your son wants you, not me. Are you feeling well enough to hold him?”

  Though she looked pale and her hands trembled, she reached out her arms. Daisy laid the child on Katerina's chest. She rolled to her side. “Oh, my darling,” she breathed, leaning down to kiss his face.

  Exhausted, Daisy sank to the floor, not in a faint, but just to take her weight off her legs.

  “How's the other one?” Katerina asked.

  “He's just fine,” Mrs. Turner replied, cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping the boy in a blanket to bring him to his mother as well. She set the second twin beside Katerina's belly, just below his brother's feet. Katerina reached down and laid a hand on his abdomen. “Oh, my precious sons. My perfect boys.” Her voice broke.

  From her spot, cross-legged on the floor, Daisy could see Mrs. Turner examining Katerina's genitals. The mother had crooked one leg to allow the examination but was otherwise ignoring the midwife, fixated on her sons.

  “You didn't even tear,” Mrs. Turner said, “and your bleeding is normal. I imagine you're plenty sore though.”

  “A bit,” Katerina said, though she still looked a bit shaky.

  “Let me give you some soothing salve and a sanitary napkin.” She turned to rummage in her bag.

  Now that the crisis had passed, Daisy found herself studying the room, which had not been able to see well the previous day, as the light had been poor. Now, in the morning, she could see that the room had been draped in luxurious fabrics—rich gold paisley for the draperies and deep blue on the bed and upholstering the armchairs—but the walls were plain and white. A complementary color and pattern would enhance the room. Perhaps they prefer it this way?

  Mrs. Turner smeared some herbaceous-smelling substance on Katerina and helped her into a huge, padded undergarment.

  That's a lot of blood, Daisy thought. Is that really normal? I guess it must be. The sight quenched some of the primal hypnosis she'd experienced from participating in the birth.

  “And now, love, it's time to put the babies to breast,” the midwife explained to her patient. “Are you certain you want to feed them both and not hire a wet nurse for one?”

  Katerina shook her head fiercely, one hand on each baby as though to protect them from some undefined threat. “Mine,” her expression seemed to say.

  “Then let's get you settled upright. Feeding them will help your womb clamp down. It's healthy for you.”

  She helped Katerina scoot up to the pillows in a seated position.

  “Would you like your nightgown on?” Mrs. Turner didn't wait for an answer. Tugging the sweaty shift over her head, she lifted a white garment and settled around the mother's body, opening the bodice. “Remember how this works? How many years has it been?”

  “Eight,” Katerina said. Her color had improved, but her voice still sounded hesitant. Raspy from so much roaring. “I remember some.”

  The midwife assessed the two infants and chose the one with the louder bellow. “We'll start with you, noisy boy.” She handed the baby to his mother, placing Katerina's hand on the back of the tiny, fuzzy head. Together, they positioned the lad, tickling his cheek with his mother's nipple. A moment later, he was attached.

  I wonder what that feels like. For the first time since the ordeal began, Daisy remembered the previous night; Colin's mouth and hands on her intimate parts. Heat rose in her body. I could get pregnant. I could already be. Good Lord. She shuddered. I'm not ready for all this. Mr. and Mrs. Bennett have a wonderful, loving bond. These boys will be a blessin
g to them, and wasn't Mr. Bennett lovely with his daughter? Colin and I… we're nowhere near ready for this. I hope I didn't conceive.

  A bit of maneuvering had both babies settled, one on each of Katerina's breasts. Soft smacking sounds filled the room. Mrs. Turner began to massage Katerina's belly vigorously, below the pillows on which the twins rested.

  Daisy's attention wandered away, suddenly focused on herself, on her ridiculous marriage and the possibility that last night's impromptu deflowering might be even more significant than she'd thought. Her heartbeat increased, not quite pounding, but definitely harder than normal. She drew in a deep breath through her nose and focused on a single curved shape on the curtain.

  “Are you all right, Mrs. Butler?” Mrs. Turner asked, extending a messy hand to Daisy. “Did you get lightheaded?”

  “I'm fine,” Daisy replied hauling herself to her feet without help. “I just needed to sit down for a moment. This was… intense.”

  “Birth always is,” Mrs. Turner informed her. “Now that mother and children are situated, I'd like a cup of tea. How about you?”

  Daisy's stomach growled. “Yes, most definitely, as well as something to eat.”

  Mrs. Turner smiled. “Good. Then, you can tell me just who the devil you are.”

  Daisy flushed. “What do you mean?”

  “I know the name Butler very well, but never mind about that just now. Let's ring for some food and drinks. I'm certain Mrs. Bennett could use something as well. Kat, are you hungry?”

  Katerina lifted her head. “Starving,” she replied. “I think I could eat everything in the house.”

  “Shall we start with tea and sandwiches?” Mrs. Turner suggested. “It's time for luncheon.”

  A quick ring of the bell had them set up with a tasty repast and a pot of steaming tea—and a lap tray for Katerina to use in bed. She tucked her sleeping sons into a cradle stationed at arm's reach beside the bed.

  “How are you feeling, Kat?” Mrs. Turner asked.

  “Better, now that labor has ended and my boys are here, safe and sound.” She reached across to caress one sleeping face and then the other.

  “I suspect your struggles have only begun,” Mrs. Turner commented dryly. “You are going to have your hands full with these two little men and Sophia. Have you decided what to name them yet?”

  “I'll wait until Christopher returns,” Katerina said. “We need to be sure we still agree.” She turned to Daisy. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Daisy replied. “I only hope you didn't feel your privacy too badly invaded. I mean, we only met yesterday.”

  “It's no bother,” Katerina replied. “I appreciate your assistance.”

  Daisy smiled. I suspect I've made a friend for life. “Shall we stay in touch by letter? I have no idea when I'll be back to town.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

  “Where will you be going?” Mrs. Turner asked, staring at her with a shrewd look on her face.

  “My husband's estate, apparently,” Daisy replied. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Turner, but I don't know much myself. I… we… we married yesterday after a very brief acquaintance and I'm a bit at a loss what to think of any of it.”

  “So then, who is your husband?”

  “Your son,” Katerina said, chuckling. She shoved a sandwich into her mouth at reckless speed, chewed and swallowed, washing it down with a swig of tea.

  Daisy's jaw dropped. Realizing her mouth was full, she snapped it shut again. “Oh,” she said. “I didn't realize.”

  “I mentioned it,” Katerina pointed out.

  “You did, but… but… I didn't put it together. Butler… Turner…”

  “Yes, my son and I have different last names,” Mrs. Turner said, still scrutinizing Daisy. “I remarried after his father died. Why did you marry him?”

  Daisy bit the inside of her cheek, wondering how best to answer. “Neither of us had much say in the matter. My father… he misunderstood something that was… harmless. When there's a weapon involved, conversation and… and sense tend to get lost. Now, here we are, wondering what to do next.”

  “Have you considered an annulment?” Mrs. Turner asked. “Or are you afraid of returning to your father?”

  “I wouldn't return,” Daisy replied. “That option is no longer safe for me. I have the means to live independently. However, an annulment… isn't an option I'm willing to entertain.” Her face heated.

  “I see. Has my son told you why marriage isn't wise for him?”

  Daisy shook her head. “He keeps hinting but refuses to explain.”

  “Means?” Katerina asked from the bed. She sipped her tea and sighed. “If your 'means' are substantial, you might be able to stay together. That is if you still want to.”

  “Are you certain you just delivered twins?” Mrs. Turner asked. “You're might feisty.”

  Katerina grinned. “I feel better than I have in months. I know I'll be sore later, but right now, I'm euphoric.” Her gaze strayed to her sleeping twins. She yawned.

  “You should try to rest,” Mrs. Turner urged, “now that you've had a bite to eat. Before you know it, those lads will wake up and keep you running. You must rest, Katerina. You're doing well so far, but you're not out of the woods, yet. Infection and hemorrhage are possible. Rest. Get help with the boys from anyone who offers it. Your only tasks are to feed them and rest. Let your husband and your staff handle everything.”

  “I understand,” Katerina agreed. She scooted down and closed her eyes.

  “We should go,” Mrs. Turner urged Daisy. “Let her sleep. I'll check on her a bit later.”

  Setting her napkin on the small table near a bookshelf crammed with volumes, Daisy rose and followed the midwife into the corridor.

  At the railing along the edge of the staircase, Mrs. Turner whirled to face Daisy. “You married my son.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Daisy replied.

  “And you refuse to seek an annulment?”

  “Yes, ma'am.” Daisy gulped. “Can you please explain to me why it's such a problem? I mean, no one wants to be married to someone they've known a day. I don't either. But… since it's too late to change it, I'm making peace with it. No one else is. What's going on?”

  Mrs. Turner shook her head. “If Colin has decided not to tell you yet, I won't interfere. I hope you can forgive that one day. I must leave your marriage to the two of you to work out. I'm simply… stunned. Stunned, Daisy. You seem a nice girl, but…”

  “But the situation is wildly unexpected and troubling?” Daisy supplied.

  The woman nodded.

  Downstairs, the door banged open and the young girl Daisy had seen earlier pranced into the foyer. “Mummy! Mummy!” she called.

  “Hush now, Sophia,” Mrs. Turner hissed, hurrying down the stairs to meet the girl and her father, who had just entered the house. “The twins have arrived, but your mama is resting.”

  “Is she well?” Christopher asked, eagerly approaching and grasping Mrs. Turner's arm with one hand, holding his daughter's wrist in the other.

  “She came through it. She's as well as can be expected. I will remain to monitor her throughout the day and night and will return frequently over the next couple of weeks to ensure nothing happens.”

  “And the babies?”

  “You have two fine, healthy sons, Mr. Bennett.”

  Christopher beamed. They made their way up the stairs to meet the new arrivals.

  Another man appeared in the doorway. Colin. Daisy slowly walked towards him, descending the stairs as if in a dream. The powerful images of the delivery would not soon leave her. “Was your task successful?” she asked him.

  “Yes,” he replied. “I got the horse and the train tickets. We leave in an hour.”

  “I watched two babies being born,” she blurted.

  He tilted his head and regarded her with an unreadable look. “My mother attended the delivery, I presume?”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “I'm sor
ry to have missed her. She will be busy with the new family, exhausted and in no mood to answer a thousand questions. Meanwhile, we need to get underway. I'll send her a letter.”

  “I believe I shall as well. I quite enjoyed her company, despite the… excitement of the situation. How is the mother of a viscount a midwife?”

  “It's a long story,” he said.

  “You have a lot of stories,” she pointed out. “I'd like to start hearing them soon.”

  Colin didn't answer. “Do you need to pack up?”

  “I do,” she agreed.

  “Go do it then,” he suggested, brusquely but not rudely. “The answers to most of your questions await.”

  “Come with me,” Daisy urged. “I feel strange, and you're my man, I suppose. I don't want to be alone.”

  “Very well.” He walked along after her, back up the stairs to the guest bedroom. Daisy tucked the few items she'd removed from her baggage; her nightgown, yesterday's clothes and her hairbrush. Then she sank, overwhelmed, onto the edge of the bed.

  “Are you all right?” Colin asked.

  She opened eyes she didn't remember closing to see his boots. Scuffed and messy, standing toe to toe with hers. “I'm not,” she said softly. “I didn't sign on for any of this. I can't be upset because the alternative, had you not been there, is unthinkable.” She did think about what her father had planned for her, and a shudder ran up her spine. “That doesn't mean I'm happy about being married to a man who hates me, stuck in a situation I don't understand with no information, no idea what the future holds. Nothing. Colin,” she looked up into his eyes, “I don't think you should drink brandy anymore.”

  Colin's unreadable expression transformed with a wry twisting of his lips. “I rarely do, except when I visit my London friends. I don't invest in such useless, indulgent distractions. That's why it hit me so hard.” He extended a hand and she took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. His support felt necessary, as her legs didn't have their usual strength. “I wish I could say I was sorry. I know that… that last night wasn't wise, but…”

  “But something in both of us wants us to be together, even though your conscious mind rejects the idea and I have no clue what is going on?”