The Might of Evil Dreams (A Novel of the Elemental Chronicles)

Fourteen - At Every Turn, Betrayal

^^Above: English actor Toby Regbo (any Reign fans here?) as Dr Hugh Braithwaite.^^

Emmeline

Our son was born late May, 1787. I remembered sitting out in the garden with Tom and Mrs Shute, sorting out seeds as he sowed them in the beds, when he signalled his arrival. We were hoping for some vegetables this year, possibly to take to the market. Despite his best efforts, Tom's textile mill finally went under in March, losing money much faster than he'd anticipated. The night he got the news, he never even came up to bed. He sat in the drawing room, drinking himself into a stupor.

When the first cramps started coming, I had to stop my work. I straightened and rubbed my lower back, biting down on my lip. Mrs Shute noticed, making her look over at me with concern.

"Are you all right, love?"

"Just some cramps, Mrs Shute. I'm sure it's nothing." I took a deep breath, trying to control it as much as possible. I'd been having them for the past few months as my middle expanded, along with back and ankle aches. I never could have predicted that pregnancy would be this hard.

That statement proved to be untrue when another one hit, stronger and more painful this time, followed by a wet rushing sensation. I dropped the seeds I was holding, gripping the side of the cart with one hand and pressing the other against my swollen belly. Sweat broke out over my skin, turning my hold on the cart slippery.

"Milady!" Mrs Shute left her work as well, hurrying over to me.

"Don't," I hissed through clenched teeth, as a third wave ripped through me. At that point I was unsure of who I was talking to. "Wait...don't..."

She caught me as the pain made my knee buckle. I leaned on her as we hobbled up to the house, and it took all my energy to control my breathing. It was near impossible to walk — my limbs felt detached from my body, and my feet seemed to be hovering above the ground.

"Mrs Shute!" Tom came puffing up behind us. His eyes took in the scene, and he seemed to know immediately what was happening. "Emmeline! What can I do?"

"The doctor, milord," Mrs Shute answered for me. "Ride for the doctor. Quick as you can."

Tom went hurtling into the house, and by the time we made it to the stair landing, I heard Thor's hooves thundering down the drive. I was bent nearly double with the contractions now, my fingers digging so deeply into Mrs Shute's shoulder I knew there would be bruises.

In the time it took Mrs Shute to help me change and into bed, Tom was back with the doctor. I barely heard their voices as waves of pain crashed over me, filling my ears and roaring inside my head. In fact, I wasn't even aware of his entering the room, but the next thing I knew, his calm voice was telling me to breathe deeply. I tried, an honest effort. But all I could think of was the pain, shredding at my insides.

It was only after the ordeal was over that I noticed the holes I had ripped right into the bed, through the sheets and into the pallet beneath. But my mind blocked out most of it, and I returned to my senses when my son's first cries came to me. Mrs Shute gave him to me, swaddled in a white blanket and squirming, his tiny hands grabbing at the air. She was beaming, and only then did I feel it safe to breathe deeply.

"A beautiful baby boy he is, milady."

He batted at my chin with his fingers until I caught his hand with my own. As he grasped onto my finger tightly, I found the strength there surprising. His eyes were still closed, and his hair was just a few soft wisps beginning to dry.

"Emmeline?"

Tom's voice came from the doorway, and as our eyes met he smiled. His dark hair was wild, his shirt streaked with dirt, and his jaw rough with stubble. But all I saw was the joy in his eyes, pure and shining.