Bertie had been banished. When the labour pains had started and Edith was sitting comfortably in bed, reading a book and only feeling slight discomfort, Bertie had been panicking and making a nuisance of himself. So both he and Robert had been sent to take Marigold on a day out. Edith had been left with the midwife, Mother Pelham and Cora. Although initially glad to be surrounded with the more sensible and experienced veterans of childbirth, Edith found herself regretting her actions. As the pain increased, all Edith could think about was how she wished Bertie was there. Instead of her. He could enjoy the pain of having a baby be pushed from his body and she could go and spend time with her little girl. How had she forgotten how painful it was the first time?
"Alright your Ladyship," the Midwife said calmly, "I need you to push now,"
Edith cried out something that her companions didn't completely understand, but sounded suspiciously like a death threat.
"What was that?" Cora asked as she squeezed Edith's hand.
Mother Pelham calmly fed Edith a chip of ice sent from the kitchen. "I am not quite sure, but it sounded like something to do with a watermelon, a rusty chain and my son's private parts,"
Usually Mrs Pelham would have objected to such vulgarity, and the fact her son had been threatened with bodily harm, but she could remember having a child herself and as a result felt no need to comment.
Finally, after a great deal of screaming and crying, the baby emerged.
The midwife gently picked the mewling thing up and wrapped it in a towel.
"A boy, your Ladyship, a beautiful boy!"
The new Grandmothers cooed over the baby, before handing him over to his exhausted mother. Despite aching all over, Edith reached out for him and beamed into his face.
"Hello my darling," she said, gently rocking the wailing child.
Word had been sent to fetch Marigold and the gentleman. By the time they reached the castle, Mother and baby had been cleaned and dressed. Whilst Donk and Marigold waited eagerly outside to meet the newest member of the family, Bertie rushed in. His hair was flying and his face red. But as he saw his wife sitting in bed, holding a bundle of blankets, he slowed down and walked towards the bed in reverence.
Edith titled a tired head to smile at him, and he leant down to give her a tender kiss on the lips. Wordlessly, Edith handed Bertie his sleeping son. Bertie sat on the bed, his hands shaking slightly as he took in the sight of his baby boy.
"Oh Edith," he whispered, "he's perfect. Thank you so much my Darling"
Edith just smiled wanly, too tired to talk. Bertie turned round to face her, eyes welling with tears. He scooted closer so Edith could see their son's face. "He's beautiful," Bertie murmured.
"He is, isn't he," Edith agreed quietly. She smiled up at Bertie through a sleepy haze as he reached over to kiss her on the forehead.
"He really is beautiful," she yawned, before rolling onto her side to get some sleep.
Bertie was so overcome, he barely heard Edith's next words, which were muttered through a yawn.
Although he swore she said something about sparing him the watermelon.