“Are you completely senseless?” Mrs. Baxter’s tone grew more strident, but Hettie merely stood there with an innocent frown on her face as Mrs. Callaghan glanced between the ladies, her brows pinched together.
“But it is not beef, and cake is very gentle on the digestion.” Hettie turned toward the door as though determined to set about her task. “I will get a full tea tray sent up immediately—”
“Useless!” scoffed Mrs. Baxter, shooting up from her chair and stomping her way toward the door. “What is the point of you if you are going to be so senseless?”
The wood reverberated as she slammed it shut on her way out, her footsteps pounding down the hall with far more force than a lady ought to demonstrate; no doubt Mrs. Baxter’s mama would be quite shocked at the display.
Chapter 20
“Iapologize,” said Mrs. Callaghan as she panted through a pain. “She can be so beastly—”
“Do not give it a second thought,”’ replied Hettie.
“But that was nicely done, Miss Stillwell,” she added with a wry smile. “I do not know if I could’ve managed another moment alone with her. Thank you for coming.”
Hettie’s own grin grew. “I am happy to be of assistance.”
The midwife and the maid hurried through the door, and with a few short instructions, the pair went about readying the room, airing out the stifling heat and lighting candles. Coming to the lady’s side, Hettie helped her sit upright, shifting the pillows at her back so she sat at a better angle.
Adjusting the seat at her bedside, Hettie sat and took Mrs. Callaghan’s hand in hers. Despite their fledgling acquaintance, it didn’t bother her in the slightest to take such a familiar position—especially when Mrs. Callaghan’s eyes met Hettie’s. Though the lady smiled, Mrs. Callaghan’s gaze was steeped in all the trepidation new mothers felt at such times.
Yet most women in her situation had far more people at her side in such a moment. Her husband, her mother, perhaps a friend or two. Mrs. Callaghan had only her father's new sweetheart to call upon, and Hettie’s heart burned for the poor dear.
Mrs. Callaghan sucked in a sharp breath, her face crumpling as she strained against the pain; her grip tightened until it was nearly too painful to hold, but Hettie refused to let it show.
“You can do this.” Reaching up, she brushed back the damp locks from Mrs. Callaghan’s forehead.
Then, calling over her shoulder, Hettie sent the maid for water and a cloth whilst the midwife came to join the mother on her other side. With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Callaghan relaxed back into her pillows as the pain ebbed. Panting, she rolled her gaze to Hettie with such pleading, though there was little more anyone could do.
“That’s good, Mrs. Callaghan,” said the midwife, wetting the cloth and dabbing the lady’s brow.
“How much longer?” she replied with a wince.
“I fear it may be some time yet. We’re still in the early stages.”
Mrs. Callaghan’s lips pinched tight together, and her chin gave the slightest of trembles, though the strong lady tried to fight the emotions bubbling beneath. Lifting her free hand, Mrs. Callaghan rubbed at her forehead, her breaths growing jagged.
“Have you thought of any names?” asked Hettie.
Lowering her hand, Mrs. Callaghan turned an exhausted gaze to her. “Pardon?”
“For the baby. What names are you considering?” she repeated. Then, with a ponderous furrow of her brow, Hettie added, “I was thinking that Calvin would be perfect for a boy. Little ‘Cal’ would be so adorable.”
The lady’s brows pinched together. “Cal Callaghan?”
The tone of her question was as dry as one could get, and Hettie nodded with an innocent smile.
“It rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?”
Mrs. Callaghan stared for a long moment before devolving into a snorting giggle that was far stronger than Hettie’s jest warranted but was a fitting tribute to just how exhausted she already was, for such things were infinitely more amusing when one was spent.
“In truth,” she said when the last of her laughter finally faded away, “I like Abigail and perhaps Baxter, as it is my family name. Thomas prefers Bridget and Isaac, and we cannot agree. However, as he pointed out in his last letter, the deed will be done by the time he discovers what the child’s name is, so I am free to do as I please.”
While there was a hint of a smile when she spoke, Mrs. Callaghan’s brows pulled low once more, her gaze growing troubled.
“He is so far away. It will be some weeks before he even knows what has happened,” she whispered.
“Abigail is such a lovely name,” said Hettie, drawing her attention back to their conversation. “Abbie is an adorable name for a little girl. But then, Bridget and Biddie are just as sweet. Though if I might be so bold, I have always thought Mildred and Hulda wonderful names.”
