Page 39 of The Earl She Once Saved

She looked down and discovered blood on her hands. For one terrible instant it was not Mary’s.

The room altered. Once again, she saw canvas walls, her father somewhere behind her and a wounded officer looking at her with fever-bright eyes.

Don’t go.

Verity gripped the edge of the table.

“My lady?” Mrs. Weller called out gently.

The cottage returned. Verity drew a breath.

“See to the mother.”

“Yes.”

She washed her hands. The water turned pink, then clear. By the time Will was permitted inside, dawn had begun thinning the darkness at the window.

He stopped just beyond the door. Mary looked toward him.

“Will.”

He crossed the room in three strides, then halted beside the bed as though he were suddenly afraid to touch either of them. The baby made a small sound. Will covered his mouth with one hand. Verity looked away.

His mother arrived shortly afterward and began crying before she reached Mary. Mr. Coombes shook Verity’s hand with both of his. Mrs. Coombes kissed her cheek. Everyone spoke at once.

“Thank you.”

“God bless you.”

“We thought—”

Verity could not bear it, not when there were so many she could not save.

“It was Mrs. Weller who sat with her all afternoon.”

The midwife shook her head. “My lady—”

“And Mary did the difficult part.”

Mary looked at her over the infant’s head. There was something in the girl’s face Verity could not meet. Gratitude was heavier than blame. Blame could be resisted. Gratitude entered wherever it pleased.

Verity gathered her cloak.

“She needs rest. Keep the room warm, but not like an oven. Broth when she wakes. Send for me if the bleeding worsens.”

Will followed her to the door. “Lady Edgeworth.”

She stopped. His eyes were red.

“I’ll never forget what you did for us.”

Verity could think of nothing to say, so she nodded and stepped outside. Cold struck her like water. She breathed it in greedily. The world was gray. It was not morning yet, but no longer night. Mist lay low over the fields, and every hedge dripped silver. Somewhere beyond the cottages a cock had begun calling, absurdly confident that the sun required encouragement.

Verity closed her eyes. Her whole body had begun to tremble. She had not noticed inside. There had been no room for it. Now there was.

“Are they both alive?”

Her eyes opened and she could see Rafe standing near the wall. For one moment, she genuinely believed exhaustion had invented him.