Beth left Sarah to the unpleasant business of dealing with the afterbirth and moved round the side of the bed to take a look at the new arrival.
She had never seen anything so tiny in her life. He was impossibly small, must weigh no more than three pounds or so at best. He had a shock of black hair like Iain's, and the tiny hand peeping out from the enfolding cloth was no bigger than the first joint of her thumb. His eyes were closed tight, but she knew enough about babies now to know that when they opened they would be blue. If they opened. She glanced at Maggie, and a look of sudden acceptance of the inevitable passed between them. Maggie lifted him gently off her chest.
"Baptise him," she said, holding him out to Beth. Beth's eyes widened in alarm and she backed away.
"I can't, Maggie, I'm not a priest!" she said.
"Midwives can baptise children in an emergency," Maggie replied, her voice trembling. "And you're of the faith, Beth. Please."
"I'm not a midwife, either," Beth pointed out. "But she'll be here soon. Or I could get Al … Anthony to fetch a priest."
Where would they get a Catholic priest at this hour? In these uncertain times? The thought ran through both their minds at the same moment.
"There isna time," Maggie said desperately. "Look at him, Beth. I'll no' have him die unbaptised, and go to Limbo. Please."
Beth made a decision, took the fragile bundle carefully, and moved across to the jug of water. It wasn't holy water, but it would have to do.
Sarah, aware that she had been all but forgotten at this intense moment, froze, not wishing to draw attention to the fact that she had just been effectively informed that Beth, as well as her cook, was a Roman Catholic.
Beth put one finger in the water and carefully made the sign of the cross on the baby's forehead.
"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, amen," she said, crossing herself. "I name this child," she stopped and turned to Maggie, "what do you want to call him?" she asked.
"Iain," said Maggie, gazing intently at her son and the woman who held him, her pain, her distress, the other occupant of the room, everything else forgotten. "Iain Charles Stuart."
Beth closed her eyes, then opened them again and looked at Sarah, whose expression of studied blankness told her that she'd understood only too well the implications of what she'd just heard. There was nothing she could do about it now. She turned, dipped her finger in the water again.
"I name this child Iain Charles Stuart … " She stopped. She could not say the child's surname. Sarah knew too much already. Sure that God would recognise the child when it came to Him, surname or no, she hastily wet the baby's forehead and blessed him again, before handing him hurriedly back to his mother. She pulled the sheet gently up over Maggie and turned to Sarah.
"We have to tell Iain," she said, remembering as she said it that his name was supposed to be John. She grabbed Sarah's hand and they left the room together.
"Don't say it," said Sarah as soon as the door was closed and Beth turned to her. "I won't say anything to anyone, ever. I haven't heard anything and I don't want to know any more."
"Sarah," began Beth.
"If it wasn't for you I'd be dead, or at best still selling myself to people like Richard, for pennies," Sarah interrupted. "I owe everything I am to you, and to Sir Anthony. And even if I didn't, you're my friend, Beth, the only true friend I've got. That means more to me than you know."
Beth grabbed Sarah by the shoulders, wrapped her arms round her and hugged her fiercely.
"Thank you," she said simply. They moved to the top of the stairs together. The men were in the drawing room; the door was slightly open and a patch of yellow light filtered into the hall, along with a murmur of conversation.
"Beth," Sarah said softly as they were about to descend the stairs. "I don't know if Sir Anthony knows or not, and I don't know what you're up to, if anything, but for God's sake, promise me you'll be careful."
"I will be," she said. "I promise."
She couldn't keep this from Alex, she realised. Better she tell him than wait until Maggie did, when all this was over and she remembered what she'd done. But for now the most important thing was to tell Iain that he had a son.
Their entrance into the drawing room was met by a sea of anxious male faces. They all paled when they saw Beth and Sarah together, assuming they were there because Maggie was beyond help.
"Is it … is she … ?" Iain faltered.
"Maggie's fine," said Beth briskly. "There were no problems, and she's fine."
"Oh Christ," he said, and burst into tears.
She realised then that his shakiness was not merely due to fear for his wife, but to overindulgence in alcoholic comfort too, and she glared at her husband and his brothers, who all refused to meet her eye, before standing on tiptoe and seizing Iain by the shoulders. She shook him as hard as she could.
"Iain," she said firmly. "Get a hold of yourself. You have a son."
He stopped crying abruptly, and stared at her.
"A son?" he said. "But … "
"I know," she said, more gently. "He's alive, now. But you must go to them quickly, because … "
She got no further before he tore himself from her grasp and ran from the room. They heard him take the stairs three at a time and the sound of the bedroom door being wrenched open, then closing again, more softly.
"Sit down, both of you, before you fall down," said Sir Anthony gently. "I'll pour you a drink. You look as though you need it. You certainly deserve it, by the sound of things."
"We didn't really do that much," said Sarah, downing her first glass of wine as though it was water. Sir Anthony did no more than raise one eyebrow before pouring her another. Duncan and Angus, servants again, disappeared quietly from the room. "It was all over so quickly, I didn't even have time to examine her, or anything."
"Quickly?" said Beth. "She was in agony for ages! She was having really bad pains for at least an hour before you arrived."
Sarah looked at her friend.
"Beth," she said. "A woman's pains normally go on for about twelve hours before the baby's born. If there are problems, it can be a lot longer, days, even. That was the fastest, easiest delivery I've ever seen."
"Twelve hours!" echoed Beth.
"How is the baby?" Sir Anthony said, repressing a smile at his wife's horrified expression.
"Too small," Sarah said practically, firmly quenching the urge to scream at the unfairness of life. "I thought he was dead, but then while I was washing him he started crying. I nearly dropped him, I was that shocked. I hope I'm wrong, but I honestly don't see how he can live for more than a few minutes, Sir Anthony. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, my dear," he said. "We are all immensely grateful to you for coming at all. I don't know what we'd have done without you, especially as the midwife still shows no sign of arriving, and it's almost dawn. How can we thank you?"
"You already have," she replied, casting a look at Beth. "It's nice to be able to do something to repay you in a small way for all you've done for me." She put her glass down. "But I must get home. If I'm quick I can get an hour's sleep before I have to open the shop."
"Of course," said Sir Anthony, standing. "I will ask Murdo to escort you home."
"No," she said firmly.
"He is quite harmless, I do assure you. You will come to no harm in his hands, and I will not allow you to go home unaccompanied at this hour."
"It's not his hands I'm worried about," she said. "It's the horse. I'll walk, thank you all the same."
In the end ‘Murdo' walked Sarah home, and Beth and Alex, too tense to sleep, and deciding to await the arrival of the midwife, repaired to the cosier library, where Angus joined them and Beth recounted what had happened in the bedroom.
"It's not Maggie's fault," she said hurriedly, even though Alex showed no sign of accusing her. "She was in a terrible state. All she could think of was that the child mustn't die unchristened." She swallowed heavily, fighting back the tears.
"I dinna blame Maggie," said Alex thoughtfully. "But can Sarah be trusted?"
"Yes," said Beth with conviction. "She can. I'd stake my life on it."
"You are doing, Beth. Or Maggie and Iain's, at least. If she talks, I could deny any knowledge that my cook and footman were Jacobites, and claim that you were a soft-natured fool that didna have the heart to turn a pregnant woman over to the authorities when you found out what she was. But it would be very awkward for us all, Beth, and Iain and Maggie would go to prison, or worse. Are ye sure ye can trust her?"
"Yes," said Beth. "I'm sure. She's my friend, Alex, but if I thought for one moment she'd betray us, I'd tell you, I promise."