Chapter 3

“Am I going to die, Lady Olivia?” Miss Eve rasped between her exhaustive contractions.

Olivia wished she could assure the young woman that she’d live, as would her babe, but there were no guarantees, especially in such a precarious situation. “I will do my best to see that all is well.” She placed a glass of cold water against Miss Eve’s lips and sent up a quick prayer.

The laudanum that Olivia had slipped into the second cup of raspberry tea had helped ease only some of the discomfort. Olivia would have given her more, but Eve needed to be awake to push the babe from her womb when the time came.

If the time came.

Where were Fern and Dr. Valentine? She had sent for him nearly an hour ago.

Many babies had been born in Westbrook House, but this was the first breech birth Olivia had ever encountered. Of course, she’d studied and knew that the babe must be turned, but without applicable experience, she feared doing Eve more harm than good and the reason she waited for Dr. Valentine.

Another contraction wracked Eve’s body and she cried out in pain. With each tightening, more blood flowed, and Olivia feared she might lose Eve and the babe this night if something wasn’t done soon.

There shouldn’t be blood. Something was terribly wrong.

“How can I help, Lady Olivia?”

Olivia blew out a sigh of relief as Dr. Valentine filled the doorway. She crossed and quietly explained the situation.

Dr. Valentine nodded and came forward.

“Miss Eve, it is good to see you again,” he greeted.

She barely nodded.

“I am going to examine you and see about bringing your babe into the world.”

Again, Eve nodded.

Olivia waited as Dr. Valentine first placed his hands about her belly as if determining the size, then examined his patient beneath the sheets as she had done. Eve winced and pain slashed across her features before she cried out. It was then Dr. Valentine emerged, his expression grim.

“You rest now, Miss Eve.”

He turned his back, but not before Olivia saw his hands as he used a towel to wipe the blood away. At his nod, Olivia followed him out of the room. She was brought up short to also find Dr. Sinclair waiting in the shadows.

A sudden nervousness came over Olivia that she had not expected. Why was he here? Surely, he had not recognized her from earlier that evening. If he had, was he here to confront her and remind Olivia of her place?

“Lady Olivia Westbrook, may I introduce Dr. Xavier Sinclair. He was with me this evening when Miss Fern summoned me.”

Olivia nearly blew out a sigh. At least he hadn’t placed her at the lecture, but that still did not explain Dr. Sinclair’s presence.

“We are already acquainted, Dr. Valentine,” Olivia offered, her tone cool. Her fear was that he was still pompous, despite her assessment of him earlier, and would insert himself into what appeared to be a life-threatening situation for Miss Eve and the babe she had yet to deliver.

“You are correct that the babe is breech,” Dr. Valentine confirmed.

“Can you turn it?” That was usually the practice.

“I would attempt to do so, but while her labor is difficult, I fear there may be more wrong. Nor has she progressed in a manner that would allow the babe to be born.”

It was what Olivia had discovered. “I had hoped that if the babe was in the correct position that it might hasten the opening.”

“She is already losing too much blood and we could lose both her and the babe in the process. I can attempt a caesarean operation. It may be the only chance the two have.”

“Have you performed this procedure in the past?” Dr. Sinclair asked.

“Only once.”

“She will die without it?” Olivia asked.

Dr. Valentine offered a grim nod. Then turned to Dr. Sinclair. “Would you be so kind to assist me and Lady Olivia.”

For a moment, Dr. Sinclair lost some of his color, and a touch of his arrogance. If the situation weren’t so dire, Olivia might have enjoyed witnessing the doctor lose a bit of his confidence.

“I have no experience in such matters,” Dr. Sinclair objected.

“Your education is the same as mine,” Dr. Valentine dismissed his concern.

Dr. Sinclair looked at her. “Should Lady Olivia be present for such a procedure? Women are of a more delicate constitution.”

Clearly, his arrogance had not completely departed, and Dr. Sinclair managed to insult her as he had done in the past. “As it is a woman who will experience such a procedure, I take objection to our delicate constitution,” Olivia argued.

“Lady Olivia has assisted me many times,” Dr. Valentine informed Dr. Sinclair. “I find her invaluable.”

Olivia smiled triumphantly, pleased that at least one of the men respected her.

Xavier had witnessed several surgeries while attending school, but those had been on cadavers for the purpose of study. This was the first experience of standing across from another doctor, over a living body, as he carefully cut into the belly, identified the uterus, and avoided the bladder. Lady Olivia stood beside Valentine and nearly anticipated what he would need before he asked. Valentine then cut into the womb and retrieved the babe, still alive, thank goodness and handed the infant to Lady Olivia. Xavier glanced at the mother who had been silent following the laudanum provided by Lady Olivia. Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed in sleep…unless she had died. He then looked at the foot of the bed. The once white linens were now crimson. “Can you identify the cause for such bleeding?” Xavier asked.

“The placenta was covering the opening of the uterus. Even if we had attempted to turn the babe, it would not have done any good.”

Xavier had read studies of this occurring in the past. Neither mother nor child had survived.

He glanced once again at Miss Eve. Her face was devoid of all color, including her lips when her eyes fluttered open. Lady Olivia held the child near so that the mother could see him.

“It is a son,” Lady Olivia whispered.

“Take care of him,” Miss Eve whispered right before her eyes fluttered closed, and she breathed her last breath.

Xavier knew death occurred daily, but he’d not witnessed it before. Except he had seen his parents fall to their deaths from a cliff, but he hadn’t seen them die. This was the first time he’d been close enough to hear the last exhale of air from lungs and it left him unsettled.

“There is nothing we could have done,” Valentine said as he stitched Miss Eve’s belly closed. “Such blood loss is impossible to overcome.”

That didn’t mean Xavier still hadn’t felt helpless. He’d barely assisted and could do nothing while a woman died before his very eyes.

Valentine pulled the blanket to cover Miss Eve completely then turned to wash his hands in the basin. “I will wash more thoroughly in the kitchen,” Valentine stated before he left them.

“Take the babe to Mrs. Shaw and see that she arranges for a wet nurse,” Lady Olivia instructed Fern. “I also need you to send for the undertaker and then arrange for Mr. Graham and his boys to sit by the grave.”

“Why would you need such,” Xavier asked. Miss Eve was quite dead and unlikely to come to and ring a bell, as had been the case when people had mistakenly been buried alive.

“Resurrectionists, Dr. Sinclair. I will not have Miss Eve’s body butchered by medical students. She was dishonored quite enough while she lived.”

“Dishonored enough?” She was a miss who had born a child outside of wedlock. Yes, there was dishonor in such but not necessarily caused by others.

“I see you are as judgmental as the rest of Society,” Lady Olivia announced then quit the room. Xavier hurried after her, leaving poor Miss Eve alone in her death.

“I said nothing. I simply asked a reasonable question,” he argued as he followed her down the stairs and into a library, or perhaps it was a study. The walls were lined with books. An oak desk covered with stacks of papers, pamphlets and books stood beside a window, and periodicals and journals littered tabletops. He’d not seen such disarray in a woman’s domain before.

Lady Olivia paused beside a cabinet, opened the doors, and withdrew two glasses and a bottle of brandy.

Xavier hoped that one was for him as he dearly needed it after the surgery.

Lady Olivia poured then handed him a glass before taking a sip of her own.

“You assume the dishonor is of her own making, and that a gentleman was innocent or simply susceptible to her charms. Perhaps you believe it was she who had done the seducing?”

Xavier gaped at her. “I made no claims.”

“Who do you think Miss Eve was?” Lady Olivia demanded.

Xavier obviously had no idea. He’d never met the woman, but the fact that she was here, and not at home being mourned by a husband spoke to the dishonor.

“Miss Eve Jameson. Youngest daughter of Baron Jameson. At one time far too sweet, innocent, shy and trusting. Before her first Season concluded, a known rake had whispered honeyed words in her ears and made promises of a future. She believed him. Then he was gone. Off to the Continent. She was ruined. She was blamed and called a sinful creature by her father who sent her from his home since the rake was no longer available to be forced into a marriage.”

Xavier’s stomach tightened. Such stories were not uncommon.

“With no skills having once been the pampered daughter of a baron, Eve was left with little recourse as she had not yet learned of Westbrook House. As many women do when they find themselves in such a position, she agreed to become a mistress so that she would have food in her belly and a roof over her head.”

The bitterness in Lady Olivia’s tone took him back. He had a sinking suspicion that Lady Olivia blamed every gentleman in London for what Eve had suffered. “A viscount who was married and with children of his own, became her protector. All was well until she began increasing, and then he turned her out. A Viscount Clermont. Perhaps you know of him.” Lady Olivia took a sip of her brandy. “He has three daughters. I wish I could see his face when he receives word that his former mistress provided the son that his wife had not.”

Lady Olivia made him feel ashamed to be a gentleman.

“So, yes, Dr. Sinclair, Miss Eve has been dishonored enough. First by the rake, then her father and then finally by her protector.”

Lady Olivia tipped back the glass of brandy and drank the contents.