Laurel’s labor continued into the early afternoon and intensified by nightfall along with the storm raging outside. The midwife, Mrs. Peebles, had arrived hours ago and remained by Laurel’s side the entire time. So had Daisy, Rose, and the twins, although they had been consigned to the opposite side of the room and used as serving maids to fetch more water or blankets or other items needed for the birthing.
To Daisy, each passing hour seemed an eternity.
Graelem remained downstairs with their uncle George, still mad with worry although their uncle’s quiet assurance had gone a long way toward stemming his panic. In truth, his presence calmed all of them.
Daisy and her sisters had taken turns looking in on the men and often attempted to occupy Graelem’s attention, but as the hours progressed, the task grew harder. He refused to read, wouldn’t play cards, and would not engage Lily in a game of chess. “You’ll win,” he grumbled, “as you always do.”
If it hadn’t been for Uncle George’s solid presence, there was no telling what Graelem would have done by now. Daisy herself was tense and scared, though she would not allow herself to show it.
“Some babes are reluctant to leave the comfort of the mother’s womb,” the midwife said in response to Daisy’s questioning glance when she returned upstairs. “These things take time.”
“How much time?” Dillie asked, for Laurel had been struggling for almost twelve hours.
She shrugged her beefy shoulders. “I don’t know, lass. The babe will set his or her own schedule.”
“I’ve heard that the first is often the most difficult.” Daisy clasped her hands behind her back to hide their trembling. She felt useless and incompetent, and would have been terrified were it not for Mrs. Peebles and Uncle George remaining so close at hand.
“Aye, it’s true. Don’t worry, lovies. Your sister is strong.”
“Headstrong,” Dillie muttered as though to convince herself of Laurel’s ability to pull through. Everyone was worried, but afraid to admit it.
Mrs. Peebles eyed them with a surprisingly tender gaze, for she was otherwise terse and efficient. “Aye, she’s a fighter and that’s good.”
Rose moved to the hearth to stoke the flames, anything to distract herself. “Mother managed to produce five of us.”
Lily nodded. “Five girls and we were small. What if Laurel is carrying a son? He’s bound to be as big as Graelem, and we know what happened to...”
Daisy turned to her sister in alarm. “Don’t say it, Lily.” They all knew Graelem’s mother had died in childbirth.
“I’ll have none of that talk now,” the midwife grumbled.
Laurel opened her eyes and glanced about her bedchamber. “Where’s Daisy?”
“I’m right here. So are Rose and the twins.” Daisy drew the stool back to her bedside and settled on it.
“We won’t leave your side,” Rose assured.
Laurel eased back against her pillows, but her relief was only momentary. “Where’s Graelem?”
“Downstairs where he ought to be,” the midwife said. “I don’t allow men in the birthing room. They always faint and then where am I? Forced to take care of mother, babe, and big oaf of a father. No, keep the men downstairs. That’s what I say.”
“Uncle George is with him,” Daisy assured her, forced to whisper in order to keep the quiver out of her voice. “He’s in good hands.”
Laurel nodded, but she seemed disappointed that her husband couldn’t be beside her. “I suppose that settles it. Does he know that I’m doing well?” Which she wasn’t. “He’s so worried about me.”
Daisy took her hand and gave it a light squeeze. “We’re taking turns reporting to him.”
As the night progressed, Daisy continued to hold her sister’s hand and did the best she could to make her comfortable, but between the midwife’s orders to fetch this or that, and Graelem constantly poking his head into the stuffy bedchamber and bemoaning his helplessness, she knew something or someone was about to explode.
“I believe it’s our turn to keep Graelem occupied,” Rose said as she and Lily started for the door. “Just shout down if you need us.”
Daisy cast them a heartfelt smile.
“Good thing Lady Laurel has you girls,” Mrs. Peebles said. “Will you be staying on after the birth, Miss Daisy? She’s going to need your help.”
Daisy had never seen Laurel so pale. Her eyes were closed and brow beaded with sweat.
Though she tried to hide it, the midwife looked worried as well.
Laurel’s eyes fluttered open. She took Daisy’s hand once more, and Daisy had to stifle a gasp at how cold it felt. “How is Graelem? I teased him earlier, but I’m scared. The babe won’t budge. Graelem knows that I’m in trouble. He must be frantic.”