They made love twice more that night, and Akbar was frankly astounded by his own prowess. He had not performed so vigorously in at least ten years. This beautiful English consort he had taken into his bed and his heart seemed to have renewed him physically. He found that a very flattering thought as he finally fell into a satisfied sleep.
When Velvet awoke she found that her husband had left her side. The day was already hot, and she stretched in a leisurely fashion, flexing her feet and wiggling her toes. She felt, she realized, better than she had in months! She smiled, suddenly comprehending that women had certain needs even as men did. Why was it that they never talked of them?
A light rap came upon her door. “Come in,” she called, and Adali entered the room.
“I have come to tell you that your serving woman is at this very moment attempting to give birth to her child, my princess.”
“Fetch my clothing,” Velvet commanded. “I will go to her.”
Dressing quickly, she pondered the fact that she knew little about the act of birthing a child. She had been considered too young by both her parents to attend Deirdre, the closest of her sisters, when Deirdre had borne the first of her babies. Still, Pansy would need a friendly and familiar face to cheer her along. Her tiring woman herself had seen many a birth, being one of Daisy’s older children.
Hurrying down the corridor, Velvet could hear Pansy’s groans as she neared her tiring woman’s small cubicle. Within the little chamber a midwife sat waiting for nature to take its course. Pansy was a big, healthy girl and should have no problems.
“Come inside with me, Adali. If the midwife tries to give Pansy some direction, we will need you to translate,” Velvet said.
“I will remain, my princess.”
Velvet knelt by her friend’s side. “Adali will stay nearby in case the midwife needs to communicate with us.”
Pansy smiled and said wryly, “I’d hate to disobey the old crone. She looks like a tough one. Lord, Mistress Velvet, I ain’t ever felt such pain before. I remember me ma yelling plenty each time she had one of me brothers or sisters. It ain’t easy birthin’ a babe, but I ain’t afraid.”
“I know you’re not,” said Velvet, and she took Pansy’s hand in her own.
“It does get a bit messy though, m’lady,” Pansy grunted. “I’m not sure you want to be around me right now.”
“Pansy, unlike most girls my age I have never seen a baby born. What if I have one of my own? Do you think it should come as a surprise to me?”
Pansy was forced to chuckle although it was uncomfortable for her to do so. “Are you planning on having a baby soon, m’lady?” she teased her mistress.
“My lord Akbar says he wishes to have a child by me, Pansy. I think I should like children of my own.”
In the brief minutes between her labor pains Pansy looked closely at her mistress. Velvet had lost that guarded look she had worn these many weeks. There was a glow about her this morning, and Pansy immediately knew the reason. Her mistress’s marriage to the Grand Mughal had been consummated at last. Pansy breathed a sigh of relief. She had frankly been frightened that Velvet’s long resistance would finally pall on the lord of this land, and then they would be lost. What would have happened to her and her about-to-be-born child if Velvet had lost the master’s favor? Pansy’s thoughts were interrupted by another pain that seared through her straining body.
The midwife shuffled to her feet and motioned Pansy to rise as well, cackling words at her that neither of the young women could understand.
“She says your servant is ready to give birth and must squat down over the birthing cloth she has set out,” said Adali.
Velvet translated Adali’s French into her own native tongue for Pansy, then helped the girl to her feet. “I hope she knows what she’s doing,” Velvet fretted.
Pansy gave one of her many impudent grins to her mistress. “I don’t have no other choice, m’lady do I? ’Twill be all right, I’m sure.” Clumsily she got to her feet and, walking slowly across the room, squatted over the brightly colored cloth the old woman had spread out.
With Adali translating, Velvet relayed the midwife’s instructions to her tiring woman and friend. “She says you must push as hard as you can, Pansy.”
Pansy gritted her teeth with the next pain and then bore down with all of her might. The effort almost tore her in two, and large beads of moisture stood out upon her forehead. “Gawdalmighty!” She groaned. “That was the worst.”
“Again!” Velvet ordered.
Pansy repeated her labor, remarking, “The little bugger had better be born soon. I’m growing tired with all of this.” Her lower regions felt stretched beyond their limit.
“Once more, Pansy, ’tis almost over, dear one!” Velvet encouraged.
Pansy obeyed a third time, pushing as hard as she could, and suddenly she felt something slide from her body, and the pressure was gone. A mighty howl broke the hot stillness of the morning, and she strained around in her awkward position to see the child.
“ ’Tis a boy, Pansy! You’ve given Dugald a fine son!” Velvet cried happily.
Pansy expelled the afterbirth from her body with a matter-of-fact nonchalance and said, “He’ll never know it, m’lady. ’Tis a pity, but that’s the way of it. At least I’m a proven breeder of sons, and maybe I’ll catch some lusty soldier’s eye.”
The midwife cleaned first the infant and then his mother, finally tucking them both back upon the low pallet bed. She smiled broadly, saying a few words they could not comprehend, and then with a final cackle of laughter exited the little room.
