“I know. I didn’t ask you here for that purpose.”
“Then what can I do? I’m willing to help. I will do anything.”
He smiled. “I knew you would. What I need is for you to work your Gemma magic.”
“What?”
“Your Gemma magic,” he repeated calmly, even as Mrs. Balfour gasped in pain.
Gemma’s immediate response was to go to her. Ned turned her to face him. “I could lose her. I could lose the baby. I don’t know how I can face Balfour if that happens.”
Her heart broke for him. “This isn’t in your hands, Ned.”
“Right now it is. I must do something that may be unorthodox.”
“Have you done it before?”
“On ewes.”
Gemma blinked, uncertain she heard him correctly. “I don’t know if this is the same thing.”
“I’m hoping it is. Birth is birth and I learned what I’m about to do from an old shepherd. It worked.”
It had to work. Gemma knew he had no choice—except, deep emotions threatened to take over. Life was so fragile.
He noticed. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not as strong as you believe I am.” She couldn’t speak above a whisper. “I lost a baby.”
“Gemma, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” His arms came around her and she leaned into him. Almost two years ago she’d been so alone . . . and she’d longed for this empathy. “I shouldn’t have asked you here.”
There was another contraction. Another gasping groan. Oh, yes, Gemma knew what Kate Balfour was going through. Gemma could almost feel the way pain racked through her body.
“Was your baby stillborn?” he asked gently.
“No, she was born. She was perfect. She died a few days after. I put her in the crib and when I checked on her not even an hour later, she was gone.” She couldn’t take her eyes off Kate Balfour. She might not have the opportunity to hold her baby. “What do you want me to do?”
He let out his breath as if in relief. “Be there for her. She is the one who told me women tell each other what they won’t say to men. I want you to talk to her. Guide her.”
How could she refuse him? “Has there been movement?”
“A little.”
“Then we’d best start.”
His arms tightened momentarily around her. “Right.” He spoke to the maids. “Ladies, I need to ask you to leave.”
The maid beside Mrs. Balfour shook her head. “We need to be here for the mistress. We must.”
“And you have been excellent,” Ned assured them. “The time has come for Gemma to spell you.”
The maids exchanged looks.
Then Mrs. Balfour helped. “Go on.” Her voice was faint.
The maids bowed and left.
After the door closed behind them, Mrs. Balfour said, “So you are Gemma.”
