Anne smoothed the blankets and straightened. “Count Montego has gone for help.”
My stomach twisted. “Oh, dear. In this storm?”
I glanced out the window at the darkening sky. Snow and ice lashed against the glass, the storm unrelenting.
“He will be safe,” Anne Geneviève said with conviction.
I wish I shared her certainty. But there was no time to dwell on it. I turned back to Emily. “We need to get her undressed and into bed. Can you help me?”
“Bien sûr,” she said.
Together, we eased Emily onto the thick wool, stripping away the layers of clothing that clung to her sweat-dampened skin. Another contraction seized her, turning her stomach rock-hard. She let out a ragged cry.
“Breathe, Emily. Like this.” I inhaled deeply, demonstrating the steady rhythm she needed to follow.
She sucked in a breath and exhaled.
“Better,” she wheezed, though tears shimmered in her eyes.
Anne Geneviève turned to me, producing a spool of fine silk thread. “I brought this to sew up any torn skin after the baby arrives.”
My eyebrows lifted. “How do you know these things?”
“My mother—she is a midwife.”
Relief bloomed in my chest. At least one of us knew what they were doing.
But then, she pulled out a small brownish stone encased in a crude silver setting and tied it to Emily’s thigh.
I frowned. “What is that?”
“An eaglestone,” she said. “Meant to hasten the birth.”
I nearly rolled my eyes as another brutal contraction ripped through Emily. A little late for that.
Anne Geneviève bit off the excess thread attached to the stone, then took Emily’s hand, guiding her through another round of deep, measured breaths.
Emily tried to follow, but then she let out a wrenching howl.
“It hurts, Olivia!” she screamed.
“I know, Emily. I know.” I smoothed damp hair from her face, my heart aching at her pain.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m scared. Marcellious promised he’d be here for the birth.”
Her body shuddered, another contraction tearing through her.
Anne Geneviève’s expression tightened. “Spread your legs.”
Emily obeyed, her breaths coming in panicked gasps. The maid crouched low, peering between her thighs.
“The baby—” her voice was urgent now. “It is almost here.”
I rushed to the maid’s vantage point, my breath hitching at the sight before me—a head crowning into the world. A rush of exhilaration flooded my chest.
“Emily! She’s right. You have to push now.”
Emily let out a scream so raw and powerful that I swore the very walls shook. Then came a deep, guttural groan, shaking her entire body.
