Behind the Courtesan - By Bronwyn Stuart Page 0,83

she screamed her little lungs out. “It’s a girl, Violet. A beautiful baby girl.”

Violet held her arms out and Sophie laid the baby against her chest. Her eyes welled and a tear rolled down her cheek as she stared at her niece in awe.

“Thank you. Thank you for being here for me, with me.”

Sophie nodded but couldn’t say a word. The lump in her throat had grown so big, she feared it would choke her.

So many things were different here, where strong women gave birth on their kitchen tables. A city woman, noble or not, would have screamed for a doctor and probably held their legs closed until one arrived.

As her hands went to her stomach again, Sophie thought about the baby she had lost. Would she have had the strength to deliver a baby in the midst of a storm? If she was the country woman she was meant to be, would she have been able to carry the baby all the way rather than lose it early? So many thoughts went through her mind, it was impossible to pin one down and concentrate on it.

“There is another baby, Sophie.”

Sophie shook her head. “Not for me. I won’t do it. I’ll not bring a child into a world where his mother is with a different man every other season. I won’t do it, I can’t.”

“No, I mean there is another baby to come.”

Sophie snapped her gaze to Violet’s and ran to take the baby from her. She put the girl on the floor on a mass of linens and covered her with a soft woolen blanket.

“How do you know?” Sophie asked.

“I can feel another. He still kicks.”

The next thirty minutes were filled with Violet’s screams, this baby so much harder to bear, and the occasional roll of thunder. When Sophie thought perhaps Violet had been wrong, that something had gone wrong, another head appeared.

“What color?” Violet asked, her barely there voice coming out in exhausted huffs.

“Not pink. I think, almost blue. Violet, you have to push, you have to push now.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to. Please, please push.”

She would not lose this baby. “Violet, push,” she yelled.

One more contraction, one more almighty push and the body fell into her hands. Sophie didn’t have to ask what to do now. She’d seen this with sheep in the years before she’d left the country. It all came flooding back as fast as the river had taken the bridge.

“He’s not crying,” Violet said, her voice shaky. “Why isn’t he crying?”

“Give me a moment.” Sophie gently placed the baby on the table between Violet’s legs and placed her fingers around his little neck. Once she had the long, bloody cord away from his throat, she cleared the muck from his mouth and breathed into it with short puffs. She turned him over in her hands and patted firmly between his tiny shoulder blades, once, twice, the third time even harder.

With a little splutter, a short breath and an almighty wail, he clenched his fists and screamed his complaints long and loud, his skin turning three shades of pink.

Sophie fell to her knees on the floor, tears now flowing unheeded down her face to drip on the crying infant she clutched to her chest. “Looks like we are both stronger than we thought, little one.”

* * *

“Any sign?” Blake roared to be heard over the rushing river.

Matthew shook his head and cupped his hands around his mouth. “We have to go back. We’ll never find her in this.”

“I’m not leaving her out here.”

“You’ll kill yourself looking,” Daemon said as he pulled his horse to a stop in the mud.

Blake ignored the freezing sting of the rain as it pelted his head and face. He should kill himself looking for her. It was his fault that she’d left. He could have made her welcome. He could have ignored her own barbs and acted the gentleman he knew was in him somewhere. It was all his fault.

He looked Matthew in the eye, the dark making it difficult to read his friend’s gaze, but he knew it would mirror the anguish he felt. “I can’t lose her again.”

“I know, but we can’t hope to find her in this. We’ll have to wait till morning.”

“We did that last time and we lost her.” At the time he’d thought he’d lost her forever.

“We won’t lose her this time, Blake. She’s a big girl and she’s strong. She’ll probably be up a tree waiting out the storm and wondering why she