A Far Horizon by Brenda Rickman Vantrease

Author:Brenda Rickman Vantrease [Brenda Rickman Vantrease]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2018-09-04T04:00:00+00:00

ARRIVALS AND DEPARTURES

Cromwell’s own division had a hard pull of it; for they were charged by Rupert’s bravest men both in front and flank; they stood at the sword’s point a pretty while, hacking one another; but at last (it so pleased God) he (Cromwell) brake through them, scattering them before him like dust.

Scoutmaster-General Watson to Henry Overton, after the Battle of Marston Moor, 2 July 1644

16 June 1644

‘The babe is crowning, Your Majesty. Once more. Push. Now,’ the midwife insisted.

‘Je ne peux pas! Aides-moi. Je sui trop faible. S’il vous plaît, s’il vous plaît,’ each plea accented with a breath.

It was Anne Villiers, Lady Dalkeith, and not the midwife, who had been standing behind the birthing chair for the last eight hours, crooning to her, gently wiping Henrietta’s brow.

‘Yes you can,’ she said. ‘You must, for the sake of your child.’

‘For the sake of the King’s child,’ Henrietta said, tasting the blood on her lips where she’d bitten into them. Drawing a deep breath, as if she could breathe in strength, she asked, ‘Did you remember to light the candles for St Margaret?’

‘I have checked them every hour. They are burning brightly.’

Another wave of pain crouched, waiting to pounce and maul. Henrietta tightened her grip on Lady Dalkeith’s hand, feeling the soft flesh give beneath her nails, but she could not let go. Anne flinched, but neither woman lessened her grip as Henrietta pushed and screamed.

Henrietta had not been all that pleased to see the grandniece of the late Lord Buckingham when she had arrived at Bedford House; had even thought of refusing her when she offered to stay in the birthing room. But Genevieve had said they needed her, pointing out that the chatelaine of Bedford House was too fussy and there were no other ladies-in-waiting to assist. Feeling foolish and a little petty, Henrietta had conceded. Now it was Anne Villiers whose hand she gripped as another wave of wrenching pain swept through her body, taking with it her last vestige of strength and determination.

‘Appelez le docteur! Cademan must cut the babe out of me. The King’s child must not die!’

The midwife dragged a bloody sleeve across her face, wiping the sweat that dripped down her nose. ‘For God’s sake, someone open a window. And tell Sir Thomas that we are past women’s work here. The Queen requires his scalpel.’

Genevieve flung open a window and rushed from the room to search for the doctor. When she returned to the chamber, doctor in tow, the Queen, pale and still as death, was slumped in the birthing chair. The midwife was already at work kneeling over the child. ‘The King’s child lives. She appears healthy and none the worse for the extended labor. Give your attention to the Queen,’ she said to Thomas Cademan.

Anne and Genevieve half carried, half dragged her, supporting her on their shoulders. They positioned her gently on the bed, bending her legs at the knee, covered her with clean linen. Clean linen between her legs too.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.