Behind the Courtesan - By Bronwyn Stuart Page 0,80
thunder. This time the sound was so loud, Sophie felt her entire body rumble. She ran the last twenty or so steps to Matthew’s front door, arriving breathless and terrified of the elements. Even if Matthew did have a horse, she wouldn’t be going anywhere until the weather eased a little.
She shook the excess water from her hands before knocking on the door first once, then twice then a third time with no answer. Sophie bit her lip as she turned her back to the door and peered into the distance. Matthew should be back from the village and Violet wouldn’t be anywhere else but the farmhouse.
She knocked again. Still no answer.
Thunder boomed in the sky again and with a little squeal, Sophie pushed her way in, all sense of good manners gone with the howling wind.
At first she only registered that the main room of the farmhouse had changed spectacularly in fourteen years. It was hard to believe she walked into the same room. The hot glow of coals in the hearth lent the space a glow that touched on a mismatch of rugs, throws and cushions. Fresh flowers with tiny pink buds erupted from a pot on one side of the huge, curtained window and to the other side, a table overflowed with well-loved books. Everywhere her gaze touched looked cozy and inviting, so different from her father’s limited, rustic taste. Trailing her fingers over the back of an old day bed that appeared to double as a sofa of sorts, Sophie moved farther into the house.
Just as she got to the kitchen, the back door opened and Violet hurried in, one small hand supporting her overly large stomach.
“Violet?”
“What are you doing here?” The pail of water Violet held in her other hand crashed to the floor in a bid to outdo the noise of the thunder that followed.
Sophie stepped back from the obviously distressed woman. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come in, I know, but you didn’t answer the door, and I...I...” She was out of excuses. “I’ll leave, I’m so sorry to have entered your home.”
“That’s not what I—” Violet stopped talking mid-sentence, leaned over her belly and let out the loudest, longest moan Sophie had ever heard.
Oh good God, no. Not now. “Is the baby coming?”
“I think so, yes...no. I don’t know, but something isn’t right.”
“Matthew didn’t come back?”
Violet shook her head, her face pale, drawn, in pain and terrified.
“No matter how you feel about me, I can’t leave you like this.” She couldn’t tell her that unless Matthew could swim a flooded river, then he wouldn’t be home any time soon.
“What are you talking about?”
Sophie bit her lip. Honesty? It was probably time for it. “I am a courtesan and I don’t belong in your very pretty home.”
“I never said that. Well, not those exact words.”
Before she could reply, another contraction ripped through her sister-in-law and Violet bent again. This time her knees gave out. Sophie only just caught her by the shoulders before she would have hit the rough floor.
“How long have you been like this?”
“Since last evening.”
With slow, sure steps, Sophie managed to herd Violet back into the sitting room where she lowered her onto a chair. “How could Matthew have left you?”
“He didn’t know. First babies always take so long and I didn’t want him to fuss.”
And he would have been home well before dark if Sophie hadn’t dragged him into her mess. Perhaps Blake wasn’t the only one who needed to think before they spoke.
“Please, don’t leave me. I need you.”
She met the pleading eyes of a woman who didn’t care who was in the room as long as she wasn’t alone. “I’ve never actually delivered a baby, Violet.” She’d had the opportunity, but always left it to the experts to take care of. What if she did something wrong? She knew the loss of a child and would not be the cause for another woman to feel it too.
“I have. I’ve—” Another scream filled the air and wound its way into Sophie’s heart.
Once the worst of the pain had passed and Violet caught her breath again, she said, “I’ve attended births. You only have to do what I tell you and we’ll both be fine.”
There was that word again. Fine. She sure hoped so. “What do I do first?”
“Hot water and linens.”
“That’s it? Nothing else?”
“We don’t have time for anything else...” The last word drew out as Violet’s scream turned to a moan.