An unexpected piece of news arrived three afternoons later in the form of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, slim-yet-shapely girl of about twenty-four who introduced herself as Nurse Rosie Goodman.
"Dr Walton sent me from Harley Street," she said with a sugary sweetness to her voice as Ada and Ethel introduced her to Lady Constance. Ethel immediately put two and two together, and before she had had a chance to look to Ada for confirmation, Ada had already raised an eyebrow and given her the slightest of nods.
"You are most welcome my dear," Lady Constance cooed over Rosie, "Ada I asked Dr Walton to send someone earlier as you are looking far too tired, you need to rest and look after yourself before baby comes. And to enjoy your friend's most excellent company."
"Thank you Lady Constance," Ada acknowledged, knowing of course that she was right.
"Ada will show you what to do Rosie," Lady Constance added.
"Well, let's get started then," Ada responded, unbuttoning the sleeves of her nurses uniform.
Half an hour or so later, Ada returned to her room where Ethel was sitting waiting for her. Ada unselfconsciously threw her shoes and uniform off, loosened her girdle a few inches, and unpinned her hair, shaking it free as she did so. She replaced her uniform with a civilian dress, her shoes with her slippers and breathed an audible sigh of relief.
"Very good Nurse Russell," Ethel chirped in her best impression of Miss Luckes.
Ada snorted. "She'll do," she added in relation to Rosie, "I may have to keep an eye on her though."
"The only ones who need keeping an eye on are you and your baby," Ethel replied, exasperated. She paused for a moment, then unable to keep her burning question in any longer, asked "Lady Constance is a patient of your Dr Walton then?"
"He's not my Dr Walton!" Ada retorted, "he is a Dr Walton of my acquaintance. A Dr Walton with whom, I will admit, I have become recently, reacquainted."
"Ooooh!" Ethel squeaked, "tell me more!"
At this point tears began to sparkle in Ada's eyes. Her breathing became shallower and she repeatedly swallowed lumps in her throat.
"What happened?" Ethel asked, her tone ringing with concern, as she pulled Ada onto the bed beside her.
"He told me that he still loves me," Ada replied quietly, "despite all that has happened, all that I did to him, despite this," she added caressing her abdomen, "he still loves me, and wants me, and wants to meet my child. He kissed my hair and held me in his arms, just like he used to when we were walking out together. Oh why was I so foolish? I could have been happily married, to a man I love, with his child inside me. Instead, here I am, miserable with a bastard in tow. Why was I so selfish?"
"Don't be like that Ada," Ethel soothed, "you became Sister of Wellington because you put the needs of The London and its patients before your own needs, wants, and desires. The day Dr Walton put that ring on your finger you could have walked away. But you didn't. That's not selfishness, that's devotion."
"Did I ever tell you I never actually said yes to him?"
"No!"
"He proposed to me by pulling me into a cupboard, putting the ring of my finger, saying 'marry me' and then kissed me and disappeared out the door."
"How romantic!" Ethel giggled, "there I was imagining that he'd whisked you away to the country, or taken you on a moonlit walk by the water's edge, or serenaded you!" The corners of Ada's mouth twitched fractionally, Ethel registered the movements, then continued.
"You will let him meet your baby won't you?"
"Uh," Ada stuttered, "um."
"The answer you are looking for is yes," Ethel reminded her, "oh come along Ada, something wonderful could come from this. How many men want to meet another man's child? He loves you."
"I don't know what I want anymore," Ada sighed, "If I marry I can no longer work, and I am a nurse. If I don't marry, I have no security outside of these walls and I can never see my parents again. I cannot have everything that I love. And I don't know what to choose."
"All you need to choose now, is how we are going to spend the next ten days we have together."
"Do you object to doing very little at all?" Ada asked.
Before Ethel could answer, Ada's face suddenly contorted in unease. She gripped her eiderdown in both hands, releasing it almost immediately as the discomfort passed.
"What's wrong?" Ethel asked.
"Braxton Hicks contractions," Ada replied, breathing through the last of the tightening, "practice labour, they've been getting worse over the last few weeks or so."
"You must rest Ada," Ethel advised, gently stroking the back of Ada's hand, "let me help you get ready for baby's arrival."
Ethel spent the next week flittering between the village and Burbridge Hall, attempting to acquire all the items that Ada would need for her confinement and lying in. The crib that had been lying empty in the corner of Ada's room since her arrival had been bedecked with the softest of linens and the blanket that Miss Luckes had made was now carefully folded inside. Patterns, wool, and materials had been acquired, and between them Ethel, Ada, Rosie, Adelaide and Lady Constance had fashioned a range of clothes for both the baby and Ada. Further napkins had been added to the collection, and Lady Constance had located what she had described as "the second best towels" and placed them in a pile, alongside jugs and bowls underneath Ada's bed "for when the time came."
Ada allowed the frenetic energy of Burbridge Hall to wash around her. She was too tired and in too much discomfort to do anything else. Even sitting and sewing was exhausting, and she took to spending many hours lying on her bed. The others would sit with her when she could bear it, but she was very thankful that Ethel almost instinctively knew when to ask the other ladies of the house to retire to the parlour.
Two nights before Ethel was due to leave, Ada had retired to her room immediately after supper. It had been a long, uncomfortable, day. Her lower back in particular had been very painful. Her attempts to get comfortable enough to sleep had failed, so she had run herself a hot bath. Gently lowering herself into the water, Ada sighed in relief as the water rushing over her body, immediately alleviated the discomfort. She slid down the bath, submerging herself up to her neck. She lay there for what seemed to be hours, periodically topping up the hot water. And then she felt something. Down below. The slightest squeeze, and the sensation of something coming away. She sat up, immediately looking down into the depths of the bathwater. She saw a flash of scarlet. And something else, but she did not know what it was. Her heart rate went into overdrive. Something was happening. But it was too early. Far too early. She was still only thirty-five weeks.
Having climbed out of the bath, Ada dried herself, and put on her nightdress and her sanitary belt. She poured herself a glass of brandy and massaged her aching lower back. Fortified by the alcohol and overwhelmed by exhaustion, Ada curled into a ball under her eiderdown and fell into an uneasy sleep.
Eight hours later, Ethel was sharply awoken by a piercing scream from the neighbouring bedroom.