Mrs Phibbs nodded as she led the way to the servant’s quarters. ‘Early,’ she said curtly. ‘And there are… problems. I was trying not to bother you, Your Grace, with the royals, but I feel I must.’
Thea’s heart skipped. ‘Indeed, you must if there are issues. Have you called for the doctor?’
Mrs Phibbs nodded. ‘On his way.’ But as they shared a glance Thea knew that Mrs Phibbs valued his opinion as much as she. Dr Cope was George’s favourite doctor but only seemed to know how to dispense laudanum – little use whilst birthing.
The screams hit Thea’s ears as soon as they rounded the corridor. High-pitched, desperate screams that made her stomach tighten in sympathy and her pace quicken to a run. It got louder as she dashed along the bare stone flags of the servant’s quarters and then filled Thea with its intensity as she swung open the door. Annie laid on the bed, cradled in Frankie’s arms whose eyes looked wild and pleading as she held and rocked her friend. Mrs Jenkins rung out a wet muslin by the small, high window and Martha sat at the foot of the bed with another pail of pink water and a muslin. She looked up at Thea and the sadness in her eyes said that the conclusion to this episode would not be favourable. Her gaze slipped with Martha’s to the pool of blood slowly tracking across the bedclothes from Annie’s hips.
‘How long?’ she asked, her voice hoarse with worry.
‘An hour or so,’ said Martha. ‘Frankie called us as she had been here through the night. She’s been staying here while Annie has been struggling.’ Thea’s eyes flicked to Frankie who looked frantic, trying to soothe Annie whilst tears tracked from her own eyes.
‘There’s so much of it,’ she said, nodding to the blood and looking back to Thea. ‘I called for help as soon as it started, and Lady Foxmore sent for Dr Cope but…’
‘He will be here soon.’ Thea tried to look reassuring but wished with all her heart that Dr Speckle had already arrived for the party. He would know what to do. Frankie nodded and tightened her arms as Annie’s screams came again, but weaker this time, Thea thought.
‘Is the baby on the way?’ asked Thea, trying to peer around Martha, not knowing what else she could do.
Martha shook her head. ‘Not as much as any of us would like. Mrs Phibbs and Mrs Jenkins have seen it before, but not like this.’ Her voice was quiet, trying to keep both Annie and Frankie from hearing.
‘Can I do…’ she began to ask, but then heard footsteps along the corridor. A fresh wave of dread washed over her at the Doctor’s arrival. Not long before they learned the diagnosis and she now feared it. He looked over the scene, dropped his bag and shook his head.
‘Oh dear,’ he said. Thea had a mind to shake him, but that could wait.
‘Do everything you can,’ she instructed him, ensuring he knew she would cover the costs. He nodded, and set to examining Annie, feeling over her abdomen and variously furrowing his brow and tutting. Annie was now limp in Frankie’s arms, whose gaze remained fixed on the doctor, hoping for good news. At last, Doctor Cope stood up.
‘The baby has to come out,’ he said. Thea almost cursed him. She could have told him that.
‘I believe that is part of the problem,’ she said through gritted teeth.
He seemed to look at her for the first time. ‘Not the usual way,’ he said. ‘Clearly that is not happening. We will need to cut it out.’
Frankie made a strangled noise and Martha paled. ‘Is that possible?’
‘It is not ideal,’ said the Doctor, still apparently in no rush as he lifted his bag on to a chair and fished around. ‘But it happens.’
‘And she will be alright?’ The hope in Frankie’s whisper almost broke Thea’s heart. The doctor turned around, scalpel in hand.
‘Oh no,’ he said, ‘I would think that highly doubtful. But it is that or we lose them both.’
‘Why are you bothering me with this?’ asked George an hour later. ‘I presume you are aware that the king and queen are still in the parlour awaiting a tour of the estate?’ Thea ignored his snide tone and tried to hide how much her hands were shaking.
‘Because we have lost a member of staff, there is a baby in need of a home, and you need to pay the doctor.’ She chose not to remind him that the baby, newly cleaned and swaddled and somehow alive, was his. The thought did seem to occur to him voluntarily, however. She saw it as his eyes flicked to the door of the servant’s quarters and back.
‘Girl or boy?’ he asked.
‘Girl,’ she said, trying to calm the fury she felt. ‘So, you have little worry about inheritance.’
He nodded and had the audacity to look relieved. ‘Find it a home,’ he said. ‘Away from here. Don’t they have that found babies hospital in London? Send it there.’
‘I am not sending it there,’ said Thea through gritted teeth.
‘Then send it somewhere else. For goodness sake woman, can you not solve a problem?’ This was not the time for her to point out that she had been solving his problems for six years.
‘It will cost.’ She was damned if she was going to pay for his indiscretions. He fumbled in his breeches and pulled out apouch that jangled. ‘That should cover it. See Fletcher if you need any more. I will deal with Doctor Cope later, but goodness knows why you got in such an expensive physician just for the staff.’
Spots of anger swam in front of Thea’s eyes, and she bit her cheek to stop the words that were about to leave her.
‘Will you get on with it?’ he spat, leaning towards her. ‘Our guests are waiting.’
