“Good. Now where is this babe?” Moving through the doorway, she heard the muffled groans as Anne labored. Ivy crouched near her daughter as she sat in the birthing chair. A rag was between her teeth to keep her screams from reaching beyond the chamber.
“It’s coming, dear, push. Push hard.”
Philipa watched as the baby slid from its mother. The tiny body glistened as Ivy gripped it by the ankles patting the back firmly. With a shake the arms began to flail and the chest filled with air. A thin wail filled the chamber.
“Turn it around, woman.”
Ivy cast a frown toward Philipa as she cradled the child’s neck and held it up so that Philipa might see the sex. A small penis was well formed between the baby’s legs. The child turned red as he squalled.
“Well done. You see? Everything is in order and now I am pleased.”
Anne was leaning back on the birthing chair, her body shivering. Philipa turned her back on them. She smiled at Mary, fixing the hair that had escaped from its braid.
“There now, dear, you see? Everything is just as I told you it would be.”
Mary smiled. “You are always so right, mother.”
“A few more days and you may then present your son to everyone. We’ll write to your father.”
Mary smiled. “And I may return to court?”
“Yes, my dear. It is important that that Scot doesn’t catch up with you for many months. You will have to be clever and avoid him.” Philipa waved a hand in the air. “I doubt he’ll ride so far into England.”
She did not know Brodick.
Anne cradled her son. Even if Philipa’s scheme was foul, the product was beautiful.
“Riders ho!”
The Captain of the Guard cried out as the bells on the walls began ringing. Philipa lost her smug, satisfied look as she rushed toward the window.
“Christ’s wounds! It’s your husband.”
The McJames’ banners flew proudly in the afternoon sunlight, bearing down on the gate. The earl himself was leading the pack of retainers, five times the number that had arrived to fetch Mary.
“Stay here, Mary. Let no one see you or that baby.”
Philipa grabbed a handful of her skirts and ran from the room. Anne stared at the empty doorframe. Not once had she ever seen the mistress of Warwickshire run.
Mary wrung her hands. “Give me the baby.”
Ivy grabbed a broom. “Get out.”
“You forget your place, slut.”
Ivy turned the broom with a practiced hand, and swung it in a circle using both hands.
“Oh, I know my place. I know how to beat you senseless with this broom if you don’t get away from my daughter and grandchild.”
Ivy stamped the broom on the hard stone floor. Mary flinched at the sound, her face turning pale.
“Stupid girl.” Ivy shook her head. “Your father should never have allowed you to be raised so weak. I am going to have a word with that man when he returns. You may count on it.”
Mary’s eyes grew large and round. Ivy pointed at her. “Stay out of my way, girl. There is women’s work to see to. I’ve no time for your childish ways.”
Mary looked shamed for the first time that Anne could recall, her cheeks red and her eyes glittering with unshed tears.
Anne shivered but the bells made her heart swell. Her mother wiped her forehead with a cool cloth. Her son nuzzled against her breast, rooting about for a nipple. Every muscle twitched and it was an effort to hold the infant. But she was happy. So pleased that it felt like sunshine was shining out of her.
She’d given Brodick a son.
There was no greater gift that her love might bestow.
Heavy fatigue pressed down on her as her mother tended to her, cleansing away the last stains of the birth.
“Your husband is here, riding into the courtyard,” Ivy whispered, but Mary screeched in outrage.
“My husband. He is my husband. She is a bastard.”
Ivy stood up, her temper overriding her good sense. Anne grabbed her mother’s wrist, trying to restrain her.
Ivy shook her daughter’s hand off. “I’ll have none of this. Do you hear? I’ve suffered in silence for my entire life, but no more.”
Anne smiled at her mother “Well now, he’s a fine, healthy boy.”
Anne gently hugged the tiny body close to her chest. “Like his father.”
“Aye, I see that.” Ivy took the baby to the copper basin. She gently washed him, cupping the water in her hand to pour it over his head. He didn’t cry, but wiggled while making soft cooing sounds. Her mother finished and wrapped the infant in swaddling so that only his face and upper arms were free.
She laid him in the cradle before turning to help Anne. Soon she was settled into the bed and Ivy handed the baby to her.