Royal - Danielle Steel Page 0,25
Charlotte was occupying, down the hall from her mother-in-law. The countess went to her room to rest too. It had been a frightening night, and like the doctor, the countess had feared that neither Charlotte nor the baby would survive, but was grateful that they had.
The countess lay down on her bed without getting undressed, and fell asleep instantly. She woke up two hours later, and decided to check on Charlotte, to make sure that she was doing well, and not in pain. She opened the door to her room, careful not to waken her, wishing that Henry were alive to see his daughter, and as soon as she entered the room, she saw that Charlotte was ghostly pale, even more than she had been during the birth. Her lips were blue, she was peacefully asleep, but ghostly white, and as Glorianna approached her bed, she could see no sign of Charlotte’s breathing. She reached for her wrist to find a pulse and could find none and saw no sign of movement at all. She pulled back the bed covers instinctively, and saw that Charlotte was lying in a pool of blood. She had bled to death after the delivery, while the nurse was with the baby. Her skin was already cold to the touch. She was dead at seventeen, from a childbirth that her parents knew nothing about. Her mother-in-law’s heart was pounding as she looked at her. What was she going to tell them? Their precious child was dead. She had died giving birth to a baby they didn’t know existed. She called the doctor with trembling hands, and he returned immediately. She had told no one what had happened, and couldn’t believe it herself. First Henry, then her husband, and now this, poor Charlotte, and the poor little girl with no mother now, orphaned at birth.
The doctor confirmed that Charlotte had died of a severe hemorrhage from trauma during the delivery. It couldn’t have been predicted, although she’d still been bleeding when he left, which he said was to be expected. And he said hemorrhages like that happened very quickly. It had struck Charlotte even before the nurse could return to the room to check her again. All Glorianna could think of now was how to protect Charlotte’s memory, and Henry’s, and to spare her parents further grief, until they knew about the baby later.
She looked pointedly at the doctor with an idea. “Would it be possible to list the cause of death on the certificate as pneumonia or influenza, perhaps with the complication of asthma, which she suffered from before? Her parents don’t know about the baby,” she said in a whisper. “I will tell them about her later of course. But for now, this seems like the least painful course for them, without adding the shock of a child to the death of their daughter.” The doctor hesitated only for a moment and then nodded. What difference did it make now? The poor girl was dead, and he assumed the baby had been illegitimate if her own parents didn’t know about it. Perhaps it was why she had come to Yorkshire, to conceal an illegitimate birth. The countess wanted to protect them from the truth, and the girl’s reputation. And why cause her parents further grief to have lost their daughter to a child born out of wedlock? It never dawned on him that Charlotte might have been married, and the countess didn’t say it, since the marriage was a secret too because of who Charlotte was. And despite being a princess, she was just a child herself and now she was dead. Yet another tragedy after too many recently.
“Of course, your ladyship, whatever I can do to help in the circumstances. This is most unfortunate.” He looked deeply troubled about it too, and wished he hadn’t left, but she’d appeared to be doing well enough when he did. And she might have died even with a cesarean with such a large baby.
“Her parents will be heartbroken.” Glorianna knew only too well how they would feel, having lost her son too.
“At least they’ll have the infant to console them, once you tell them—if they’re willing to accept her,” the doctor said kindly. It was clear to him now that the baby was illegitimate, and the countess said nothing to correct him. It didn’t matter what he thought, only that the press didn’t get hold of the story before she could tell the king