Epilogue
September, 1889, Bath, England
Elliot leaned against the bedchamber doorway, in the spacious house they’d moved to from London, a few months prior. He shook his head as his unhappy wife shifted one way, then the other. A low moan escaped her lips as she moved once more.
The poor woman was seven months pregnant, and looked as though she was carrying an elephant in her belly. Not that he’d had a great deal of experience with pregnant ladies, but it seemed to him there must be more than one child in there. But, each time the doctor had examined her, he’d reiterated that there was only one child, but a large one.
A large one? With the way she looked, this babe would come out walking, talking, and demanding a cigar and brandy. He shook his head as his miserable wife turned onto her side, and opened her eyes. “Good morning.” She offered him a gentle smile, in contrast to the dark circles under her eyes.
“It doesn’t look like such a good morning for you.” He pushed away from the doorway and moved to the bed, to sit alongside her. “You were up for a while again last night.”
“Yes. My back hurt, and I find walking helps.” She moved to sit up, but Elliot grabbed her under her arms and hauled her up against the headboard.
“I’m concerned with all the decorating you’ve been doing. I’m not sure that’s good for you or the babe.”
Charlotte waved her hand. “Nonsense. Beatrice and Bridget did all the hard work. I merely point and say ‘there.’”
All their London staff, along with Molly, her baby, and her grandparents had made the move with them from London to Bath when they decided with a babe on the way, the air here was better than in London.
Molly and her little family had settled into a snug cottage only a few blocks from Charlotte and Elliot’s house. She worked as Cook’s assistant while her grandparents tended to the baby. Bridget had told them Molly had been stepping out with a young man who already adored little Betsy.
Elliot had given up the investigation part of his business once they married and had secured a considerable number of new legal clients both in London and Bath.
Charlotte had been annoyed to learn that with Gabriel’s will, once she re-married, the control of her money went directly from the solicitor, to her new husband. She had threatened to join the women’s rights movement after that little fact had come to light.
To keep her happy, they decided together to donate a good portion of the money to St. Jerome’s, and put the rest away for the benefit of their children.
“Shall I have Bridget fetch you some tea and breakfast?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No. I don’t feel quite the thing this morning, and my back still hurts.”
He eyed her with concern. “Is it not too early for the babe to be thinking of making an appearance?”
“With the way I feel, it could not be soon enough.” She stopped and sucked in a shallow breath, her face pale, and her eyes wide. “Now where did that come from?”
Elliot hopped up. “What? What happened?”
“Nothing, I’m sure.” However, she didn’t look sure, but worried, which only increased his anxiety.
“Maybe we should send for the doctor?”
“No. I’m certain it’s nothing. I just wish my back would stop hurting.” Charlotte moved around a bit, attempting to adjust her position. “Maybe I will take some tea after all.”
“Yes, right away.” He eyed her cautiously and made for the door. Before he reached it, she let out with a squeak, and he turned. “What?”
She was panting, and a light sheen of sweat covered her face. “I don’t know.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, then looked down. “I’m wet.”
He strode back to the bed and looked behind her on the mattress. A large stain of some sort with a slight tinge of red covered the area she’d been sitting in. His heart dropped to his stomach at the sight. Not wanting her to see that and become frantic, he wrapped his arm around her and lifted her up. “I’m going to change your nightgown, then settle you on the chair by the window.”
She regarded him with wide eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing is wrong, but I am going to have Bridget sit with you. Considering your backache, and the pains you just experienced, I think it’s best to summon the doctor.”
They struggled together to get the wet nightgown off, and a fresh one on her. Once she was as comfortable as possible, given her bulk, he left the room in search of females to take care of his wife, who he believed was getting ready to deliver the elephant-child.
“Bridget!” Attempting to remain calm, but concerned that it was much too early for the babe to make an appearance, he grabbed the startled maid as she entered the drawing room. “You must see to Mrs. Baker. She is having pains, and I believe her waters have broken.”
“Oh, dear.” The young girl looked as scared as he felt.
He gave her a slight push to get her moving. “Go. I will have Thomas fetch the doctor.”
“Yes, sir.” Bridget raced up the stairs, leaving Elliot in search of Thomas, who he found lounging in the kitchen, drinking tea.
“Thomas!”
The footman jumped up from his position, his tea splashing all over the table and himself. “Yes, Mr. Baker.”
“Fetch the doctor. I believe Mrs. Baker is about to deliver the child.”
“Oh, dear me,” Cook cried. “I knew she was much too large to go for another two months. The poor girl.” She lumbered past him and headed up the stairs.
With nothing for him to do except pace and wait for the doctor, he retired to the library and did exactly that.
The sun was making its final descent, turning the sky a misty gray when Elliot heard the cry of a babe. After hours of listening to Charlotte moan and cry out, it was a welcome sound. With no one but Thomas for company, who kept looking as though he wanted to dash from the room any minute, it had been a very long day. Not as long as it had been for his poor wife, however.
Another cry erupted from upstairs, which told him the babe had strong lungs. Even though he’d been warned by Mrs. Blanchard, Cook, and the doctor to remain downstairs, he could not linger in this room. He had to make sure Charlotte was all right.
He bounded up the stairs and headed to his bedchamber. He gave a slight knock and then pushed the door open. Charlotte lay flat on her back, surrounded by the doctor, Cook, Bridget, Beatrice, and Mrs. Blanchard. The doctor bent over Charlotte, murmuring something to her.
She turned her head to look at him and broke into a huge smile. “Elliot, we have twins!”
“Twins?”
“Yes, two girls.” Her voice was raspy, no doubt from all the crying out she’d done. He moved closer to the bed, Mrs. Blanchard frowning at his appearance.
“This is no place for a man, Mr. Baker.”
Ignoring her, he continued on until he grasped Charlotte’s hand. “Twins?” He turned to Beatrice and Bridget, who each held a small little bundle. “Twins.”
The two girls nodded, and Charlotte squeezed his hand. “Yes.” She sounded exhausted, which she probably was.
“I thought you said there was only one babe?” His accusatory tone at the doctor had the two maids giggling.
The doctor began to pack his instruments into the black satchel he always carried with him. “Yes, I did say that.” He stopped and planted his hands on his hips. “It is possible to hear only one heartbeat if one babe is on the top of the other. That was the case with your daughters.”
His daughters. The glow started in his stomach and proceeded to cover his entire body. He was a father! How fortunate could a man be? A beautiful wife, two daughters, and a lifetime to love them all. He bent and kissed Charlotte on the forehead. “Get some rest, my love.”
She nodded and looked as though she was ready for a long nap. Cook had other plans and announced she would bring a strong beef broth for Charlotte to drink after Bridget cleaned her up and got her settled for the night.
Elliot walked to the cradle that had been made ready for the babe. Except two little girls, wrapped in blankets, lay sleeping after their ordeal. He touched each of them on their downy cheeks, and stared for a moment at their perfection.
Once Charlotte had been changed and drunk her broth, he sat alongside her on the bed as she drifted off to sleep. “Good night, my love. And thank you for our daughters.”
The room had grown dark, and all the hustle and bustle of the day had ended. The servants were downstairs enjoying a well-earned dinner, and his wife and daughters were fast asleep. He stared out at the night and saluted Miss Garvey, wherever she was. For as deranged as the woman had been, she’d done him the favor of bringing Charlotte into his life.
From darkness there is light; from evil there is good; from hate there is love.
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