Teaching His Ward: A Regency Romance by Noël Cades

Author:Noël Cades [Cades, Noël]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-30T18:30:00+00:00

Looking down from the crest of the land, Jemima saw one of the maids in the field below, gathering mushrooms. Suddenly the girl dropped the basket she was carrying and doubled over.

Jemima rode towards her and quickly dismounted. "What is wrong? Are you injured?" she asked, helping the maid up. As she did so, she quickly perceived what the matter was.

Mary Ellis was in a condition far more advanced than might have been assumed given the date of her nuptials but two months ago. A careful draping of her skirts and apron had thus far concealed this state from the rest of the household.

Jemima knew nothing of this. She only recognised that the young woman was in great distress, and like mares she had seen in her father’s stable back in Ireland, was about to foal.

"Let me help you," she offered, but the girl looked terrified.

"Oh no, miss. I must get home." Then she was seized with another grip of pain, and Jemima tried to support her.

"We must get you back to the house. I think… your time is due," Jemima said.

The maid was breathing rapidly, perspiration breaking out over her brow. She could barely stand and Jemima could not leave her. She looked around, hoping that she might hail some passer-by and send for help. But there was no one.

So Jemima sat with her in the long, damp grass, wondering what on earth to do. "Could you get on horseback, if I help you up?" she suggested.

But Mary merely groaned and cried out as her body underwent another convulsion.

These things were not immediate, Jemima knew. With mares they took many hours. And Mrs Minchin, the wife of one of Aunt Hortensia’s neighbours, had been confined to her room for two days before her good news was proclaimed. Jemima was not supposed to have known what was going on, of course. Such things were not for the ears of young maidens. But she had been with her aunt in the draper’s shop and had overheard a conversation between two customers. "She was brought to bed late last night." "There is no further news as yet?" "Not yet, but Ma Bunting is gone there." Ma Bunting, Jemima knew, was the local midwife.

It was not until the following day that glad tidings were brought to Harlington House of the arrival of a small son. So Jemima presumed that this maid had plenty of time to get back to Southwell, where the necessary preparations could be made. She could not know that poor Mary’s pains had begun a day ago, and were just now rapidly increasing.

Mary, thus, would not be moved. She clutched at Jemima’s arm the next time the pain came, and Jemima could only sit there helpless, wondering what she was to do. Was it coming now, in this field?

The maid had got herself into a crouched position, and was now panting heavily. Were she a horse, the foal would be imminent. Jemima stayed by her, murmuring much the same words of encouragement that she had done to Emerald Lass many years ago.

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