Mrs. Johnson covered her mouth, though her laughing eyes gave her away as Charity dissolved into giggles—though they were cut short when she groaned again, her body straining as another pain took hold. Hettie and the midwife hurried to her, taking hold of her hands and talking her through the agony until she relaxed once more into the bed.
“You are brilliant,” said Charity with a halting chuckle. “I have tried being gentle and direct, but nothing will impede her doing as she wishes, yet you’ve managed to distract her long enough to give me some peace.”
“It will only afford us a little time before she returns,” said Hettie.
“But it is still time,” murmured Mrs. Johnson, though the woman pinked when her quiet words drew the attention of the other two.
Taking the seat beside the bed, Hettie grimaced. “I am a wicked person.”
“You are my savior,” replied Charity, squeezing her hand.
“She means well—”
“If she did, she would listen instead of demanding or frightening me into doing as she sees fit.” Charity’s brows knit together as she held fast to Hettie’s hand. “I know it was uncomfortable for you, and more unpleasantness will come before this is over, but I thank you for helping me.”
Wrapping the lady’s hand in both of hers, Hettie smiled. “Whatever you require. Though perhaps we’d best use this time to concoct other distractions. It will take her some time to gather and prepare the ingredients before she steeps it, but it has only bought us a few hours at most.”
Chapter 21
Grasping the tea tray, Hettie hefted it with a smile, giving the usual assurances to Charity before she slipped out the sitting room door. Once it was closed behind her, she slumped against the wood, her grin fading as she struggled to keep the tray upright. Just a moment was all she required. A tiny rest when she wasn’t required to raise another’s spirits.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to gather her strength, but it was difficult to straighten as her eyes fought the pull of gravity. Hands grasped the tray, relieving her of the burden and shocking Hettie enough to pull her from the stupor.
“I heard you stirring and wanted to see how things are faring,” said Baxter, hefting the tray with a furrowed brow. “It has been so long…”
“The first child usually takes longer than most, and I fear that Charity still has quite some time left,” said Hettie.
“Perhaps you ought to take a rest? I had a bedchamber prepared, if you wish to freshen up or lie down for a few minutes,” he said, nodding down the hall.
“That is kind of you, but I couldn’t think of leaving her. There is no reason to be alarmed yet, but in her state, she is fretful and exhausted. I can rest when it is over.” But despite her best efforts, a yawn emerged, long and deep.
Setting the tray down, Baxter drew her into his arms, and Hettie’s good sense didn’t have the strength to be concerned about the propriety of such an action.
“Thank you for this,” he whispered, holding her close, and Hettie welcomed the embrace.
“And thank you,” she said, burrowing into his hold. “This is doing far more to restore me than lying down.”
“There is little else I can do.”
For a long moment, they stood there in silence, and Hettie let her eyes close for a moment. Despite the exhaustion plaguing her, standing in his arms made her heart beat faster.
“Isn’t this cozy?”
Hettie jerked out of Baxter’s hold, and the pair turned to see Mr. Goswick standing in the library doorway, his arms folded as he stared at her.
“I thought you were here to help my sister,” he added with a narrowed look at her.
Drawing in a sharp breath, Hettie refused to fidget or flinch away from his look, though it was strange to see him in such a light. Having escorted him and Alice about town to various engagements, Hettie had spent quite a few hours in his company, and she’d never expected such coldness from him.
“I am here to help her,” she said, nodding at the tray.
“Clearly,” he replied in a dry tone, his gaze lingering on the small space between them.
“Remember your manners, son,” said Baxter, his brows lowering as he stared at his son.
Mr. Goswick scoffed. “A lecture on manners from a man embracing a woman outside the room in which his daughter is struggling for her life—all whilst he and his family are mourning his recently deceased wife?”
With another dismissive huff, he turned and disappeared into the library once more, leaving Baxter and Hettie to stare after him.
