After supper Serena was making her way to thank the chef for his brilliant effort when in the entry hall she spied Stevens scolding little Polly Brown, who stood before him, shivering, with tears running down her red cheeks.
“What’s going on here?” she demanded, rushing forward. Polly burst into tears and Serena knelt beside her. “Polly, why are you here so late?” she asked gently, taking the frozen little fingers in her warm ones.
“It be Ma,” she sobbed. “The babe’s comin’ early. Pa went after the midwife. She be visitin’ her sister up the coast. He sent me to the rectory, but the parson’s gone and his missus is laid up. I didn’t know what to do so, I came here … There’s somethin’ wrong this time. There’s so much blood,” she whispered, her eyes round with terror. “I don’t know how to help Ma.”
“Polly, don’t cry. I shall come with you to help your mother.” Still holding the little fingers, Serena stood. “Stevens, order the carriage at once, and fetch my cloak.”
If Serena suddenly declared she was flying to the moon, he couldn’t have been more thunderstruck. “But, my lady. You have guests,” he gasped. “Let me send one of the maids.”
The little fingers tightened around her hand, and Polly gazed up with tear-reddened, trusting eyes.
“I shall deal with this myself. My guests are having a marvelous time and shall continue to do so with or without my presence. Now, please hurry. Mrs. Brown needs attention.”
With stiff disapproval he snapped his fingers to two waiting footmen, and her cloak and carriage were instantly produced.
“Please inform Lord Blackwood and Lady Cecily what has occurred, but don’t cause undue alarm.”
He looked so pained, she immediately realized she’d insulted him. “Of course, I know I can count on you to do the proper thing, Stevens,” she added with what she hoped was a soothing smile.
She had no time for more. Obviously Mrs. Brown needed help.
How much help brought cold terror to clasp around Serena’s heart. The small space the Browns used for their bedchamber was taken up nearly all by a bed. Mrs. Brown lay in a pool of blood seeping into the covers.
Her pain-filled eyes widened in shock. “My lady, you shouldn’t be here.” Gasping for air, she tried to struggle up to her elbows. “Not proper you being here.”
Kneeling beside the bed, Serena stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Rest, Mrs. Brown. I will try to make you more comfortable until the midwife arrives.”
With a harsh intake of breath, she nodded. “It not be like the other babes.”
“I know. Try to relax. I’ll return in a moment.”
Stepping through the narrow doorway, she glanced up and saw seven little faces peering down at her from the loft. Polly stood by the fireplace twisting her hands together.
“Polly, boil water and gather fresh linens.”
The little girl instantly flew around the room to do her bidding.
Serena sent John Coachman back to the Landing with instructions to fetch more linens and a maid, for another pair of hands might be needed.
Then she tied an apron over her impractical gown and carried hot water and linens back into the tiny chamber.
Mrs. Brown sighed, muttering her thanks as Serena staunched the flow of blood as best she could, cleansed, and replaced the sodden linen with fresh. She was placing a cool cloth on Mrs. Brown’s hot forehead when the midwife finally arrived.
With one quick glance, she nodded. “Aye, your ladyship did right well. I’ll take over now.”
“I’ll leave you in the midwife’s capable hands,” Serena whispered, squeezing Mrs. Brown’s limp fingers.
Twisting her head, she spoke so softly, Serena had to bend low to hear. “You be a great lady” came through cracked, dry lips.
With a last squeeze to the hand, Serena took her leave. Stepping out, she found Daniel Brown standing near the fire with Polly. Their faces were identical in fear.
She wanted to reassure them. “Mr. Brown, I’m sure—”
“Your ladyship, quick! I need you!” the midwife cried, and Serena rushed back to the bedside.
“It be bad. Hemorrhaging.” The weathered old face was grim, the watery eyes staring at her appraisingly. “If I’m to save the babe, I need help. Can you do it?”
“Just tell me what must be done,” Serena returned with equal grimness.
Time ceased to exist as she did what the midwife instructed, applying pressure where it was needed, holding Mrs. Brown’s thrashing, pain-racked body, keeping up the supply of linens and hot water, all their efforts focused on saving the baby and Mrs. Brown.