“Very good, my lady.” The maid rushed off to do her mistress’s bidding.
Fortuity fell in step beside her sister, and they returned to pacing the circumference of the room. “You realize I was only four years old and toddled alongside Mama when she gave us Merry. There is little else I know to do?”
“Talk to me,” Blessing said. “Keep me from worrying.”
“And what shall we speak of?”
“Whether you shall return to your husband or crawl into that hole you mentioned earlier and live out your life as some sort of burrowing animal.”
“You think I am being oversensitive. That I have overreacted.”
“I did not say that.”
“You did not have to.”
“Be that as it may…” Blessing paused, clamped her mouth tightly shut, and squeezed Fortuity’s hand with an impressive amount of strength.
Fortuity watched her, praying the babe wouldn’t drop out and land on the floor between her sister’s feet. “Should you not return to your bed?”
“I do not want to be in that bed!”
“Fine. I was simply concerned about my new little niece or nephew landing on their head between your feet.”
Blessing gave her a murderous glare. “I will know when the babe is coming out.”
“I would hope so.” Fortuity wrapped an arm around her sister and helped her continue pacing. “I still say you think I overreacted.”
Blessing rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Since you failed to assault, poison, or murder the two hedge whores or your husband, you did not overreact.” She caught hold of the bedpost, bent forward, and stretched as she had done at the windowsill. “Why does my lower back hurt so? Should the pain not be confined to where the child comes out?”
“You are asking the wrong person, as I have neither had a child nor done any research on the birthing process.” On impulse, Fortuity balled up her fists and rubbed her sister’s back, working her knuckles hard into Blessing’s poor, knotted muscles. “Is that better or worse?”
Blessing rumbled with a long, low groan. “You are an angel, and may live here forever if you wish.”
“I shall take that as a positive sign that this helps.” Fortuity continued massaging until Blessing straightened and started pacing again.
“Save your strength for the next pain,” she said. “Now tell me, what do you intend to do, since you appear to be second-guessing your hasty departure from your home?”
“I don’t know. Pride forbids me to return the same day I left, doesn’t it?”
“Pride can be a very troublesome thing in a marriage.” Blessing stretched from side to side while resting her hands on her hips. “Ihave done the research on that.”
“What are you suggesting?” Fortuity glanced back at the bedroom door, wishing that someone who knew what to do during this delicate situation would show up to help.
“When the troops arrive to help me relocate little Starpeeper from my belly to my arms, go down there and talk to your husband.” She tapped on the windowpane. “He is standing outside the carriage now, looking much like a puppy that has been kicked out of the house for chewing on the furniture.”
Fortuity blew out a groaning huff as she went to the window and looked for herself. There he was. Hat in hand. Standing beside the coach with such a mournful expression one would think he had just been widowed. “Oh dear heavens. Have you ever seen anything more pitiful?”
“Yes,” Blessing said. “You.”
Fortuity narrowed her eyes. “You will not be bringing forth this child forever, dear sister, and I have a very long memory when it comes to insults.”
Blessing smiled. “That sounds better. It is about time my brave sister who fights for what she wants returned. Now go down there and drag your fool of a husband either into the carriage or our sitting room so the two of you can have a conversation without the world watching.”
“I shall go down there when your people arrive. You should not be left alone at a time like this.”
“Lady Knightwood, do be good enough to return to your bed,” said a bespectacled man as he breezed into the room without knocking.
A brusque woman dressed in black marched around him and took hold of Blessing’s arm. “Allow me to help you, my lady.”
