Passion and Propriety (Hearts of Honour Book 1) (50 page)

“It’s time for me to examine you,” Grace said, and Hannah whimpered. They’d gone through the ordeal once already, an hour after beginning their strange, circular journey. William’s offer to leave the room had been rejected, Hannah gripping his hand tightly and begging him to stay. He’d kept his gaze on her face, murmuring reassurances while the midwife checked to see if they were getting anywhere. The news had been discouraging, but he hoped for better this time.

“Thank God,” Grace murmured a few minutes into the procedure.

“Progress?” William stifled a sob when he caught sight of the midwife’s relieved smile.

“Progress indeed,” she announced triumphantly. “You’re almost there, Hannah. Not much longer, and you should be ready to push.”

As the pains grew in severity and frequency, William wondered how his wife could possibly endure, but with an end in sight, her resolve strengthened. It was only when they’d almost reached the end that her courage failed.

“I can’t do it,” she said, weeping against William’s shoulder. “I’m too tired. I won’t be able to push the baby out.”

“Yes, you will,” he said with a certainty he was far from feeling but that they both needed to hear. “I’ll help you. We’ll do it together.”

Hannah pushed away from his chest. “Together?” She eyed him crossly. “The
together
part came at the beginning and was a hell of a lot more fun than this!”

“Hannah!” William shot a wary glance at their bemused audience.

“Oh, they’re well aware how I ended up in this predicament,” she snapped, turning to face her friend and sister, who had come to assist them. “Grace, Naomi, I’m telling you now, it’s not worth it. Don’t ever marry, no matter how much you might think you’re in love. You must become spinsters and raise puppies . . .” Her words gave way to sobs as she surrendered to another bout of weeping.

William was at a loss. It was one thing to blame himself for their “predicament,” as Hannah had so aptly named it, but he’d always had her reassurances to lift him from his doldrums. With the tables turned, he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“There, there,” he murmured, helplessly patting his wife’s shoulder.

“I’d be prepared for more of the same,” Grace advised him quietly. “It can be quite a shock to a first-time mother when they comprehend what must be endured as a result of their husband’s attentions.”

William grimaced, wishing he could suffer in his wife’s place and silently vowing to never again put her at such risk.

The thought brought him up short. For the first time, he’d allowed himself to imagine a future where Hannah
survived
their current ordeal. His faith had grown, and hope was burgeoning in his heart, though he feared it wouldn’t take much for it to wither.

Hannah’s volatile mood preceded the final stage of labour, or so Grace informed him when it was time to assist his wife back onto the bed. The torturous examination revealed the welcome news it was now possible for their child to leave the womb and be welcomed into the world. The reality was somewhat less congenial than the phrasing of the event, as it was not named
labour
for nothing.

“That’s it. One more push, and then you can rest,” Grace said. Hannah was propped up both by pillows and William’s kneeling form beside her, close to the end of the bed, from where Grace observed their progress.
 

William might not have been the one giving birth, but he swore he felt every pain as if it were his own. He held grave doubts that his hand would retain feeling after being squeezed so tightly for so long, but he didn’t complain.

“Well done, sweetheart,” he said when she sagged back against him, soothing her brow with a damp cloth provided by Marianne. He could only imagine what the young woman thought of her master remaining by his wife’s side when it came to the actual birth. He’d momentarily considered Grace’s suggestion it was time for him to depart. But the fear in Hannah’s eyes when she thought he might leave had convinced him otherwise.

“We’ll get through this together,” he’d promised, relieved when Hannah hadn’t rebuked him for the presumption.

“Together,” she’d echoed, but forty-five minutes of exhaustive effort later, he wished there were more he could do to assist her.

“You’re doing well, my love.” He captured her weary-beyond-measure gaze in an attempt to imbue her with his strength. “You can do this . . . you can bring our babe into the world for us to love and raise
together
.”

“Promise?” She whimpered as another pain built, evidenced by the tightening of her belly and the way her legs trembled.

“I promise,” he said, supporting her back.

“Nearly there, Hannah,” Grace said, and William sighed with relief. “The head is crowning. Just a few more pushes.”

“Come on, baby,” Hannah said between panted breaths. “Come meet your parents. Your mother is very tired and in need of a rest.” Her words ended on a sob, and William brought her head to rest against his shoulder.

The next few contractions saw little progress despite Hannah’s valiant efforts. Then, finally, their son’s head emerged.
 

“You’re almost done, my love,” William urged his exhausted wife. She nodded wearily, and then her final push—one so intense and prolonged it must surely have used every last ounce of her strength—delivered their son into the world.

“It’s
a boy,” Grace announced, catching the babe as he slid from Hannah’s body. His lusty cries filled the room, and William’s heart overflowed with relief . . . and pride.

“David,” he said with awe. They’d chosen a name that broke with tradition, one that hadn’t been used by his predecessors. With eyes blurred by tears, he returned his attention to his wife. “We have a son, Hannah, a beautiful boy.”

Her answering smile was tremulous, tears streaming from her eyes, but there was no mistaking her intention when she reached for the babe.

“Let me cut the cord and clean him up a little,” Grace said, and Hannah leaned back against William with a sigh.

“Are you all right? How do you feel?” he asked, suddenly wary.

“I’ll tell you after I’ve held our son.” She sniffed, and he hastily wiped his face on his sleeve so he could see clearly enough to wash away Hannah’s tears. His efforts proved futile, for as soon as their son was placed in his mother’s arms, they both started to cry once more . . . their tears mingled with laughter.

“He looks just like you.” Hannah’s face was aglow as she studied their boy. As if aware he was in his mother’s arms, the babe settled, his cries giving way to the odd snuffle.

“He has your mouth.” William ran his finger down the babe’s downy cheek and laughed when David’s lips opened and he attempted to suckle his father’s finger.

“He’s hungry. Should I feed him?” Hannah reached to undo the buttons of her nightgown, but Grace advised her to wait until she’d delivered the afterbirth.

“Just a few moments, and then there’s a little more work for you to do,” Grace said, while William and Hannah gazed at their son. After carefully loosening the swaddling to expose the babe’s tiny arms, they counted his delicate fingers before searching out his feet and doing the same for his little toes.

“He’s perfect,” William whispered.

“Indeed, he is.” Their gazes met, and they reached for each other across the squirming body of their son to share a tender kiss.

“All right, you two, that’s enough.”

William bridled at the midwife’s peremptory tone until he recalled the dangers that had not yet passed. The babe appeared in good health, but Hannah’s safety was far from assured. After David was re-swaddled, William lifted him from Hannah’s arms and cradled him gently against his chest before looking to Naomi.

“Don’t you want to be the one to show off your son?” she asked, relieving him of his precious burden.

William shook his head. “I’ll stay with Hannah, but I’m sure the others would like to meet him. They’ll have heard his cries and be keen to know what’s happening.” He referred with pride to his son’s healthy lungs.

As Naomi left the room, Hannah rolled onto her side, whimpering in pain.

“What is it?” William asked, instantly alert. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just the after-pains,” Grace explained, but she frowned when Hannah cried out.

Rolling onto her back, Hannah grabbed at William in fright. “There’s something moving inside me.”

“Don’t be afraid. It’s only the placenta coming away from your womb,” Grace said, washing her hands in preparation for another examination.

“No, it’s not.” Hannah dragged William’s hand to lay on her swollen belly, gesturing for Grace to do the same.

Feeling a definite movement beneath his fingers, William jerked back. “Another babe?”

Grace nodded, her hands measuring the writhing bump. “Twins. I should have known, but this one was hidden by his bigger brother.”

“Twins?” Hannah’s body shook as she began to cry. “You mean I have to give birth again?”

“Yes, but it will be all right.” Grace offered a tentative smile. “This one’s smaller.”

William bit back a particularly vile oath. He had no idea how he was supposed to survive a repeat of the ordeal, let alone his poor, exhausted wife. Supporting Hannah in his arms, he did his best to soothe her fears while Grace prepared for the arrival of a second
babe. Within minutes, the blood-soaked sheets were replaced, the oilcloth beneath having thankfully done its job protecting the mattress. Too weary to move unaided, Hannah clung to William as he positioned her further down the bed.

“Don’t raise her up yet,” Grace said. “I’ll need to determine how the baby is lying.”

Hannah’s face twisted with pain as Grace performed the examination. With all concerns regarding dignity and propriety long since forgotten, William kept his eyes on the midwife’s face.

“What’s happening?”

For weeks he’d been assured the babe’s head was facing the correct way—downwards—and had dropped to the entrance of the birth canal, but this second babe could be any which way.

Grace’s shoulders sagged. “The babe’s lying crossways, and his arm is in the birth canal. He’s holding my hand.”

“And?” Fear lodged in William’s chest at the midwife’s tone.

“I can’t save them both.”

Chapter 39

Blessed

Hannah could barely think for the pain and mind-numbing fatigue, but there was one thing of which she was certain. She might have known of this new babe’s existence for only a matter of minutes, but she already loved him with the same fierce protectiveness she felt towards her son.

“Save the baby,” she gasped, her words almost
drowned out by William’s plea that Grace do everything in her power to save his wife.

“Hannah.” He turned towards her, his face a mask of pain. “I need you. Our son needs his mother.
Please
.”

A sob caught in her throat, and she begged her friend. “Can you not try to save us both?”

Hannah knew from previous discussions with Grace that a transverse presentation was the worst possible in terms of successful delivery.

“I’ll try.” Grace’s expression was grim but determined. “But you’ll need to be very brave. I’ll have to turn the babe to force a breech delivery. It’s going to hurt. A
lot
.”

“Do what you have to.” Hannah reached for both of William’s hands as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

The next few minutes were the most torturous of Hannah’s experience. The pain seemed to go on forever and was beyond bearing . . . and yet she bore it with William’s help. When Grace finally announced she was done, Hannah opened her tightly screwed eyes and looked in amazement at the babe’s tiny body, delivered all bar its head.

“It’s a girl!” William declared in astonishment.

“What’s wrong with her?” Hannah was dismayed by the babe’s bluish tone and utter stillness. “Is she dead?”

Grace shook her head. “Not yet. But your contractions have stopped, and I don’t think she’s getting enough sustenance. Your body thinks its work is done.”

“Then pull her out!” Hannah cried. “Quickly, don’t just leave her there to suffocate.”

“I can’t.” Grace’s voice was filled with sorrow. “Her neck and head are too delicate. You need to
push
her out, but without any contractions to assist you—”

“I can do it,” Hannah insisted, her exhaustion dissipating as determination took its place. “William, help me to get more upright. Marianne, lift me from the other side.”

When all three were in position, Hannah took a deep breath and then bore down with all her might, desperate that her daughter should live. Everything hurt, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, not to mention the tearing sensation from her body’s attempt to expel a second babe. But she ignored the pain and the fact her body had long since spent its very last drop of energy. Digging deep, she found reserves she’d not known she possessed . . . but to no avail.

The babe’s head didn’t budge.

“Oh, please, God, please.” She took a moment to catch her breath. They were so close. It couldn’t end tragically now, it just couldn’t.

“You can do it, sweetheart,” William murmured close to her ear, strengthening her with his support.