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FOUR MONTHS LATER
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“NO, WAIT! I WANT MY sister.” A panicked note entered Lily’s voice, fear written in the tense lines marring her face. “Iris, stay... Please.”
“I’m sorry, my lady, but we must insist that all non-essential persons leave immediately. Besides, it’s not appropriate for an unmarried young lady to witness such an event.” The doctor patted Lily’s hand in a gesture of comfort, but she drew away as another contraction ripped through her body. “Mrs. Middleton and I are more than capable of—”
Owen interrupted from his post against the wall where he’d been relegated as soon as he’d arrived at the news of her labor. “Whatever my wife wants, she’ll have, proprieties be damned.” Vehement firmness brooked no argument, and a spark of gratitude filtered through Lily’s pain at the authoritative change. Due to his usual friendly attitude, she sometimes forgot Owen could still bring down all of the lordly power that was his right.
“But my lord...”
“The Countess of Trent is currently having my heir, Dr. Pearson, and by the looks of it, her sister is doing more to ease her than you.” Owen motioned pointedly to Iris, who was wiping Lily’s sweaty brow with a cool wet rag. “If you value your position, you’ll stop arguing with me and do your job.”
Cowed by the command, the doctor bowed his head in acquiescence and dug around in his leather bag before removing a plethora of metal tools. The clanking steel rattled in Lily’s ears, and images of sharp edges, gleaming points, and blood ratcheted the sickly fear pervading her veins to a higher, agitated state. A whimper of protest trembled in the air.
“I can’t do this.” Wild eyes darted to Owen as he knelt on the bedside opposite of Iris. “I can’t. Owen, please...”
“My darling, Lily-pad, we will get through this.” He raised one of her hands to his cheek, kissing the back before cradling it protectively. “You are the strongest, most determined person I know. You’re afraid, and I am, too, but you’re no coward. You’re my brave countess who doesn’t balk at challenges. Soon, this will be over, and we’ll have our child, all because of your strength and courage.”
“He’s right,” Iris said, dampening another rag and gently patting at her sister’s forehead. “There’s no need to worry. Everyone in this room is here to help you.”
“But I can’t be a mother. I’m not ready.” Turning her head back towards Owen, she pleaded. “You know I’m not ready. Oh god...” Another contraction bent her almost in half, knocking the wind from her lungs.
How had women borne this pain for millennia? How had her own mother birthed two more daughters after Caraway?
Lily couldn’t imagine a more primitive, body-breaking pain than the one tearing through her at this moment. The reward of a baby, a child she couldn’t fathom in reality, simply was not enough.
“Pardon, my lady, but I must check to see how far along the babe is. Perhaps you’d wait outside, my lord?” Dr. Pearson motioned to the door, obvious consternation at the presence of not one but two interlopers during his exam written in the scrunch of his bushy eyebrows.
“No, I will not. I’m not leaving my wife.”
Gratitude and pride pushed through the pain. She loved her husband. Loved his resolute loyalty and kindness.
“I suppose that goes for you, too, miss?” the man asked Iris, and she nodded, a steel gleam in her eyes. They were only missing Caraway, who was visiting Hazel and Jonathan in Manchester. However, Owen had sent a letter notifying them of her labor, so they should arrive on the train soon.
Three spirited sisters. A beautiful child. One loving husband.
The perfect family for her.
Something she never thought would happen after the mistakes she’d made—mistakes she still made. But with age and Owen’s support, her bitterness had waned, her anger tempering to a low simmer that only sparked during particularly frustrating arguments. Otherwise, she’d learned to accept her emotions and whatever fate decided to toss in her path.
A supremely easier and happier way to live.
Focusing on the good things in her life, Lily huffed and puffed through labor, pushing through pain and tears. It almost felt like a rebirth for her as their baby came into the world, wailing at the top of his lungs.
A new beginning.
And as she slumped against sweat-soaked pillows, precious little son in her arms and Owen holding them both in awe, Lily breathed in deep and exhaled the last vestiges of her old life.