The Reverend's Daughter (Book 2 after The Duke's Daughter)

Forty Part Four

Betsy flew up the staircase as if all the hounds of hell were barking, snapping, and snarling on her tail.

Drake stepped out from he and Arianna's rooms, into the hallway, just in time to see the maid's furtive look and her pale, stricken face. Quick as a flash, Betsy wrenched open her bed chamber door and flew through it.

Drake turned back to look at his wife, his face serious, as Arianna looked to him in confusion. Drake had been headed downstairs to get some coffee, and have a pot of tea sent up to her, why had he stopped?

"I believe your former maid may need your assistance, my lady." Drake showed a bit of concern, causing Arianna to drop her hairbrush mid stroke, brushing quickly past her husband instead.

"I will join you downstairs eventually." Arianna told Drake quickly over her shoulder as she disappeared into Betsy's rooms.

Arianna called out, but after hearing no reply, she closed the door behind her and began searching for her friend.

Hearing the awful, retching noises coming from the next room, Arianna's eyes widened as she searched Betsy out.

Betsy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and lay back slowly upon the coolness of the wood floor. Her arms spread wide, she looked as a victim of crucification, her face deathly pale and she groaned ever so slightly.

"Betsy, are you alright?" Arianna rushed to Betsy's side, sliding on her knees the last foot of her approach, her breeches accommodating her swift movement.

"Kill me." Betsy whispered. Then she opened one eye to peek at her lady.

"Oh my!" Arianna patted Betsy's clammy hand, concern etched deeply across her visage.

"Only wait till the babe is born, I suppose," Betsy suggested. "Violet would not be pleased should you slaughter his firstborn." Betsy closed her eye and panted miserably.

"You are sure?" Arianna inquired.

"What do you think?" Betsy asked, her one eye again opened, her nose wrinkled in displeasure.

"I think you are right." Arianna nodded sagely. "I told you that you would pray for death, did I not?" Arianna rose, beginning a litany of her own, railing at those she loved. "And everyone told me I was foolish, that I would not die, that I had not caught some horrible disease. Only I had, and I did want to die." Arianna dramatized her past malady, her arms swinging wide to emphasize her points.

"Yes, well, I can now see why." Betsy propped herself up on an elbow, eyeing her lady, as Arianna paced the room venting her wrath upon motherhood.

"I do not see how it is worth it,"
Arianna went on, "nor why we must be saddled with this curse, it is not as if I ate the apple in the garden of God."

Betsy laughed, as her belly was beginning to settle down, she realized in that moment just how much she had missed Arianna. "You always say the damnedest things." Betsy shook her head as she sat up, Arianna coming immediately to her side.

"You must move slowly, and take a bucket with you wherever you go, 'twill pass after a while, but, for now, you poor, poor thing, your life shall be positively wretched!" Arianna's dramatics escalated.

Betsy laughed aloud, "I can see why you would think so, but honestly, I am already feeling better." Betsy nodded assuredly.

"Oh no, that can not be," Arianna frowned and shook her head slightly, "it lasts for hours and hours, you simply must take to your bed. I shall get you some chocolate and a hard biscuit, 'tis the only thing that helps, you see?" Arianna began tugging Betsy up from the floor.