The Midwife's Tale(10)
“Stephen is a good man,” Esther said with a laugh. She knew I did not approve of how he treated her. “When I give him children, I’m quite sure he will relent. Then I will be happy to learn from you.”
Esther and I gossiped a bit more, but soon enough it was time to leave. We embraced again and went our separate ways.
* * *
That evening, clouds swept in from the west and rain began to fall. As I warmed myself by the fire, I found myself hoping that the rain would soak the rebels to the bone. I should not have had such uncharitable thoughts, and in His wisdom, God punished me for my vindictive spirit. As Hannah helped prepare me for bed, Martha came in and announced that Elizabeth Asquith’s manservant was at the door.
“He says that his mistress had been in labor for some time, and will soon need a midwife.” Without my saying a word, Hannah began retying my bodice.
“Tell him I’ll be there shortly,” I said. “Do you feel up to assisting me tonight?” I asked Hannah.
She looked uncomfortable. “Honestly, I am not well, my lady,” she said. “I’ve been in and out of the jakes since the afternoon. I fear I’ll be there for much of the night. My guts are pinching me…” She trailed off. I considered my options. Any of Elizabeth’s gossips could assist me in the delivery, but I felt uneasy at the prospect of walking the city alone at night.
“Very well,” I said. “Show Martha where my bag is, and tell her we’ll be leaving shortly.” Hannah nodded and left. “Make sure she gets the birthing stool as well,” I called after her. The stool had been a bequest from my mother-in-law, who had trained me in that art. Except for my house, the stool was the oldest thing I owned. I finished dressing and went down to the parlor, where Martha waited. Martha picked up the stool and lantern while I carried my valise, and the two of us stepped into the night.
As we left my house, Martha slipped on pig dung left by one of the scores of animals that roamed the city. She landed hard on her rear and uttered a string of oaths more fit for a sailor than a maidservant. “I’m sorry, my lady,” she said. “I’ll mind my tongue.” It was not an auspicious start to our night’s work.
We walked down Stonegate and turned onto a narrower side street that would take us directly to Elizabeth’s. I knew the way but still felt a bit nervous—thanks to the rain, the light from our lantern seemed to extend only a few feet in front of us, and the street’s broken paving stones made for treacherous footing. The city had ordered householders to set out lamps to provide light to passersby, but even at times of peace the order had always been more honored in the breach. Now, with Parliament’s forces overlooking the city, even fewer people put out lanterns for fear of catching the eye of a bored artilleryman. A few blocks farther on, the street narrowed, and the sky was reduced to a narrow sliver as the buildings’ eaves nearly met overhead.
“I feel as if we’re walking into a cave,” said Martha.
“It’s the shortest way,” I explained, but at the same time I regretted that we hadn’t brought an extra lamp and, for that matter, that I hadn’t asked Elizabeth’s manservant to accompany us. Few respectable city residents would be out on such a night, and the discipline among the Royalist soldiers was breaking down. The week before, a maid had been raped and left for dead by a foreign mercenary from the King’s garrison. The soldier had been hanged, but I had no illusions that the city was much safer. I silently prayed that the rain would keep people in-doors and allow us to pass unmolested. Unfortunately, as with so many prayers, God answered this plea in the negative.
As we approached a darkened alley, a soldier stepped from the shadows and barred our way. He towered over the two of us, and from the smell of him he’d spent the evening soaking himself in liquor. Even in the dim light offered by Martha’s lantern he recognized my rank, and he offered a false smile that revealed broken and rotting teeth.
“Good evening, m’lady,” he slurred with an exaggerated bow. “And what brings you into such a dangerous part of the city at this hour? Surely you will allow me to escort you to your final destination.” The glint in his eye made clear that this was a threat, not a request. He was a predator, and the scent of weakness would only embolden him further, so I saw no use in playing his game. I stepped between Martha and this rogue.
“I am a midwife and a gentlewoman of the city. Unless you wish to spend tonight in the city gaol, step aside.” This was an empty threat, of course, and the question was whether he recognized it as such. Upon hearing my words, he straightened up, and his lupine features hardened. A moment later the smile returned, but with a crueler edge than before.