that the child was dead when Jane’s labor began,” she said gently. “The child was early, you know. The labor was God’s way of expelling the dead baby, but Jane did not have the strength to push him out.”
“You are certain of this?”
“As certain as I can be, Tor. Please know I would have done everything possible if there had been the slightest chance to save her or the child.”
He knew that. Lady de Lohr was a caring, compassionate woman, but he had to ask. The hollowness, the grief, that was building inside of him was demanding answers and it was difficult not to give in to the pain.
But Tor had never been the animated kind.
He was, in short, a gentle giant. He was calm and well-liked, which was part of the reason this situation was such a tragedy. Tor deserved to be happy and to have the family he very much wanted. He deserved all of the good things that life had to offer and a situation like this was a heartbreak for all involved.
Having watched him grow up, it was particularly difficult for Lady de Lohr.
Tor knew that. In theory, he knew that she would have moved heaven and earth to save Jane, but there had been no hope. It must have been dire, indeed, which began to tear at him. He’d told her not to send word to him about her pregnancy or the birth.
Now, he was coming to regret that directive, very much.
“I am sure you would have done everything possible,” he finally said. “I did not mean to question you. ’Tis simply that… we are speaking of my Janie. She is too young and beautiful to die.”
Lady de Lohr was near tears. “She will be forever young and beautiful to us all, Tor,” she said softly. “We will remember her with great love and affection. Even if you had been here, there was nothing you could have done. You could not have saved her. Mayhap it is best if you remember her as she was the very last day you left her – happy, sweet, and loving. Hold that memory close, Tor.”
His eyes were starting to well. Something in Lady de Lohr’s statement conveyed the horror of Jane’s final days. After a moment, he looked up at her.
“She died in agony, didn’t she?” he asked.
Lady de Lohr was taken aback by the question. “She… she was weary, of course. She tried to bring forth the child for several days.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“Tor…”
“Tell me!” he boomed.
Lady de Lohr jumped, startled by his exceptionally loud voice. She had known Tor since he’d been a boy, having grown into a man of considerable size and strength, and his shout frightened her. It was the first time she’d ever heard the man raise his voice or show a temper, ever. Given the circumstances, it was understandable.
But she held her ground.
“I told you the truth,” she said evenly. “She died exhausted but brave. Of course there was pain; having a child is not a painless experience. What would you have me tell you? That her body contorted with great contractions to bring forth a child that was far too large for her to carry? That, at times, it was so painful that she screamed? Is that what you wish to hear?”
Tor’s eyes widened and Lady de Lohr realized what she had said. She’d spoken honestly before she could stop herself.
She grasped him with both hands this time.
“I did not mean to say that,” she said. “Forgive me, Tor. The child was large, that is true, but it was not your fault. You must not blame yourself. I did not mean to imply otherwise.”
He blinked at her, still startled by her words. “Then it is true,” he said. “The child was too large. My child was too large.”
Lady de Lohr hoped she hadn’t done damage with her truthful outburst. “He was very big, but women are made for bearing big children,” she said. “I have given birth to my share of them and I am quite well. But Janie… as I said, sometimes these things happen and we do not know why. Only God knows.”
Tor was sinking further into despair and trying hard not to. “For a man to die in battle, I understand why God permits such a thing,” he said. “A man goes into battle with the intention of taking a life. If his own life is taken, it is a fitting retribution. But a woman faces childbirth with