“You are, by all reports, an excellent midwife; you have healed me before; and most importantly, you understand the issues of bonding to the land. Why in the world would I go to anyone else?”
Mrs. Sanford sank down onto a chair as if her legs had suddenly decided not to support her. “Surely your husband will wish to handle the birth rites.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “He is away for some months. I hope he will return in time for the birth, but babies do not always keep to a schedule. That is why your help would be invaluable.”
She looked stunned. “He would miss the birth of his heir, the bonding to Pemberley?”
Elizabeth steeled herself. “It may not be possible for him to do otherwise.” And she had to prepare for that.
“When is he due to return?”
“That is uncertain.” Elizabeth raised her chin, trying to keep the wobble from her voice.
Something flickered in those familiar dark eyes. Pity, perhaps? “Is this one ofthosemarriages?” she asked darkly. “I hoped he might care about more than your dowry.”
Bother those tears that came so readily these days! Elizabeth blinked them back. “He does care, but business calls him away.”
“Do not make excuses for him. I know his sort all too well.”
It was a bitter disappointment, but there was no point in arguing with this woman. She would have to find friendship – and a midwife – somewhere else. “I fear I have made an error in coming here. Pray forgive me for taking up so much of your time.” Elizabeth marched over to the door.
“Wait! I will help you, if you wish it.”
Elizabeth turned back slowly, her hand still on the latch, her chest aching. “Why? You are clearly angry, and no doubt have good reason for it.”
“My anger is at your husband, not you. And he is not the one who needs my care.”
“It is not his fault he must be away.” Why did she care so much that this woman understand that?
Mrs. Sanford tsked. “If you wish to believe that, you may.”
“It is true!”
Her eyes flashed. “It is also true that a rich man can show a purse of gold and be brought to your side whenever he wishes.”
“Not from behind French lines in Europe!” The words slipped out. Elizabeth clapped her hand over her mouth.
Mrs. Sanford stood stock-still. “Is that where he is?”
“I should not have said that. It is a secret,” Elizabeth said in a low voice. “I pray you, tell no one.” If only she could do a binding, like Cerridwen! It would be a disaster if this angry woman revealed it.
“A healer never reveals the secrets they hear,” the midwife said slowly. Then she straightened. “I think you had better sit down and tell me more about your condition.”
Half an hour later, Elizabeth was still there, sipping an herbal tisane the midwife had prepared for her. “This is tasty,” she said. “Fennel?”
“With raspberry leaf, nettle, and chamomile. Good to strengthen your womb. I will give you some to take with you.” She hesitated. “I must ask this. Are you aware of who my father was?”
Elizabeth set down the cup carefully. “I was given to understand that old Mr. Darcy had two families, although my husband appears to have been unaware of it until meeting you.”
“Hardly surprising. We were forbidden to go anywhere near the great house, and he sent us away before we were old enough to disobey.” Her lips tightened. “Off to school and then into the Army for my brothers, and a position in London for me. He provided for us, as long as we never returned.”
“But you came back.”
“As soon as he died, to care for my ill mother. When no one said anything, I decided to stay. Quietly.”
Then she had only been here for five years. “How did you manage to bond to the land?”
“My mother’s work. She teased a little information from the old man and buried my afterbirth in the garden. She knew my brothers would be taken away, but she thought he might let her keep a daughter. When I returned, the power was here.”
