The Midwife's Choice by Parr Delia

Author:Parr, Delia [Parr, Delia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781441229038
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2015-12-04T08:00:00+00:00

18

Joy and happiness had virtually transformed Aunt Hilda’s cottage from a shrine devoted to the past into a living, breathing home again.

A fire blazed in the sitting room that for years had sat cold and abandoned. Delicate lace doilies, long relegated to a trunk, once again decorated the faded upholstery on three chairs in the center of the room. The stew bubbling in the kitchen added tantalizing aromas, but they were not quite strong enough to keep Martha from detecting the subtle scent of lavender when Aunt Hilda came close and took Martha’s cape.

“I’ll just hang this up with mine and tell Richard you’re here. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Martha had scarcely sat down when Aunt Hilda accompanied her long-gone husband, hand in hand, into the room. If Aunt Hilda glowed any brighter, Martha suspected the woman’s face might burst into flames.

“Here she is, Richard. You probably don’t recognize Martha,” Aunt Hilda said. “She was so young when you left, but you should remember her mother, Rena Fleming. She favors her, don’t you think?”

He winked at Martha. “I most certainly do. Fact is, I already told her so myself.”

Aunt Hilda looked up at her husband, then at Martha. The confusion in her gaze quickly gave way to understanding. “You knew! That’s why you got young Lucy to replace me. It wasn’t Victoria you brought me back to see at all!”

Martha looked to Richard for help. “Well, I—”

“And you!” Aunt Hilda elbowed her husband’s stomach playfully. “You didn’t tell me you’d seen Martha! Of all the things you had to tell me, how could you forget—”

He grinned and silenced her protests by smooching her lips. Eyes twinkling, he finally set her back before she swooned from lack of air. “Forgiven?” he asked.

She blushed and swatted his arm. “Forgiven.” She turned to face Martha and shook her finger, at her feigning disappointment, which did not match the merriment in her eyes. “As for you, young lady . . .”

Martha surrendered by raising both hands. “I apologize. I had only come to check on the cottage and to get some honey wine when I accidentally discovered he was here waiting for you to come home. He made me promise I wouldn’t spoil his surprise.”

“That’s exactly what happened,” he admitted. “Now that that’s settled, suppose we all have a seat. I’m still tuckered out. . . . Long journey,” he explained.

“Thirty years long, but I’m not complaining. Not one bit. Especially now that I know. . . . Well, you tell it, dear. It’s your tale, not mine,” his wife suggested before they all sat down together.

The couple, Martha noted, still held hands.

Richard Seymour toyed with his wife’s fingers and rubbed the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb. “Before I do, there’s something I should say to you, girl. Hilda tells me you’ve been very good to her all these years, as good as our Charity would have been if she had lived past girlhood. I thank you for that.

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