Chapter 21: Bittersweet

Birmingham Palace, London, England. July 29th, 1811.

It had been more than a day already, and James was not sure he could take it in any longer. Though he was not the one giving birth, Marianne was. Her cries pierced his heart but there was nothing he could do but pace back and forth in the room next to where she was because everyone was keeping him away. With her inside the room were two doctors, a midwife, her mother, Lady Lockhart, and Valery.

"Everything is going to be alright, Jamie," Henry said, handing the prince a glass of four fingers of whiskey.

"How can it be alright?" he growled. "She has been in labor for more than twenty-four hours! Can you not hear the agony she is in?"

"Yes, but the doctor–"

"Sir," one of the doctors said, coming out of the room, but there was still no baby cry and Marianne's cries were becoming weaker. "I am afraid the mother is in a very precarious position," he tentatively offered.

"What does that mean," James asked, livid and holding on to the nearest table.

"It means that we can probably save the baby, but the mother's life–"

"Her name is Marianne," he growled. "Her Royal Highness Princess Marianne Schreave to be exact."

"Jamie, let the doctor speak," Henry said. "It seems to be important."

James nodded and looked at the doctor. "Go on."

"As I was saying, Your Highness," he continued, "we can save the heir, but not the princess." There was a slight pause as he looked at Henry for support.

"Save Marianne," James ordered. "Or better even, save them both! Are you a doctor yes or no?" By that point, James was becoming furious. "Let me see my wife." He pushed past the doctor but Valery and Lady Lockhart blocked his way.

"Please, James," Valery said. "It is not the time."

On the bed that was covered in blood lay an exhausted princess with wet hair clinging to her sweaty face, her chest rising up and down as she breathed between contractions. Contractions that had been going on for much too long. He could actually see the pain she was in, but she was now too weak to scream or push, or do anything, really.

"Mari…" he said, her name blocked in his throat like a big fat brick.

Valery and Elizabeth shared a look and decided to let him in so he rushed by her bedside and grabbed her hand while gently pushing away the hair from her face. Her mother was sponging her neck and face, and the midwife was standing at the foot of the bed with the other doctor; they were arguing in low voices about something but James did not listen to them. Instead, he focused on his beautiful wife and tried to give her all of his energy so she could finish the work.

"Ma'am," the midwife said. "The baby is not in a good position and it has not moved. I am going to try to turn it around so you can finally give birth, yes?"

Marianne simply closed her eyes and nodded once, gripping James' hand with what little strength was left in her as the midwife reached inside her to turn the baby. She could feel everything, and she wanted to scream, but she did not even have the strength for that. James held her close, whispering soothing words in her ear only for her to hear, and it seemed to give her some strength.

"Alright, Ma'am," the midwife said. "The baby is turned right, so I am going to need you to push one more time on the next contraction, yes?"

Marianne kept her eyes on James as she nodded again. They waited in silence for the next contraction to come, but it took so long to come that they thought it would never come at all. "I love you," she mouthed to James before pushing with all of her remaining strength, letting out the loudest scream yet.

With a very wet sound, the baby came out into the midwife's arms, and the doctor quickly cut the cord before she took it away. There was no cry from it as everyone was silent, waiting. The midwife did some things to the baby no one could see for her back was turned to them, but finally, the baby cried and a collective sigh of relief echoed through the room.

Everyone gathered around the accoucheuse to see the new heir to the throne, but James stayed next to Marianne, still holding her hand, though he craned his neck to see the baby as well.

"It's a girl," Valery said with tears in her eyes, taking the wrapped baby in her arms to bring it to her mother.

Marianne smiled and let her best friend put the baby in her arms. "Eleanor," she whispered, placing a soft kiss on the baby's head.

"She's bleeding too much," James heard the midwife say to the doctor, but the doctor shook his head.

"There is nothing more we can do, now," he replied in a whisper, but James heard it nonetheless. He was about to say something to change the doctor's mind when Marianne started to convulse, her head going back and her back arching over the bloody bed. Her mother snatched the baby away, handing it to Elizabeth while she and James tried to do something to help the princess, but after a minute that felt like an hour, she fell on the bed, limp.

"Mari?" James said, taking her head in his hands. "Mari! Wake up! Please!"

The doctor held her wrist to feel her pulse and when James looked at him for an answer, he simply shook his head and walked away. He packed up his medical bag and was on his way to write the death certificate of Her Royal Highness Princess Marianne Schreave of England. James was motionless as he cried, his face on his wife's chest. Behind him, Lady Lockhart was holding the crying baby in her arms.

"We need to find a wet nurse for Eleanor," she said. Marianne's mother nodded, but she didn't move. The only person who actually did something about it was Valery. She had just lost her best friend, but she felt as though she was not herself as she moved to leave the room to go find a wet nurse, even though she had no idea where to find one. Outside the room was her brother.

"Well?" he said, waiting.

"It's a girl," she said automatically. "And Marianne is dead."

/ / /

Cliff Beach, Brighton, England. July 29th, 1815.

"I knew I would find you here."

James looked up at his best friend as he half-crawled, half-walked on the stones down to the beach. Once Henry had safely made his way towards him, the prince looked at the ocean once again, letting the rhythmic sound of the waves lull him into a numb state.

Henry sat next to him and put his pouch on the ground between them, also looking at the vastness of the sea ahead of them.

"I cannot believe Clinton let you come here," James said, his eyes still on the horizon. "I thought you were afraid of him."

Henry shrugged. "I can face any danger to make sure you are alright." He paused. "Besides, I brought cake, and cake always does its work."

James snorted. "You bought the Captain with cake?"

"Maybe?"

Both men chuckled but then were silent again. James had a very uncomfortable pebble under his right buttock but he did not want to move. He figured the spot would become numb soon, anyway.

The minutes passed, the waves continued to crash on the pebbles on the beach, the seagulls screamed above them, and the wind made their ears dead to any other noise.

"Jamie," Henry said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

James did not reply right away and let his head fall, his chin on his chest. "I am not certain I am," he replied. "I–" He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "I just– I do not know what I am feeling at the moment."

Henry nodded. "I see," he said. "Well for what it is worth, I think you deserve some time off to reflect and think, and to be close to her."

"That is the thing, Henry," James said. "I do not feel close to her– normally I do, but today? It is as if she is miles and miles away and I can barely feel her, or see her." He paused and swallowed. "I do not want to lose her, Henry."

"You will not lose her, my friend," he said, earnestly. "I am certain she is watching over you right at this instant." Another pause, trying to find the right words. "Maybe she is giving you some space so you can find love again?"

James shook his head and shrugged Henry's hand away, not wanting this to be true. He did not want to find love again! He had had a perfect one with Mari, why would he need to love again? A marriage between two people did not have to be based on love, and if he really needed to marry again, he would; but once a male heir was born, he would send his wife to a country estate to care for the child, and that was the end of it.

They were silent a long while, letting the beach noise fill the silence between them before Henry moved to change his seating position for his right leg was becoming numb. James ignored him and simply kept his eyes on the horizon, trying to find Marianne's presence somewhere, but to no avail.

"Cake?" Henry offered tentatively as he pulled out something wrapped in cloth.

"Really, Henry?" James said.

"Yes?"

The prince ignored the offered cake and stared on. But it was no use: Marianne was gone and all he could feel was an empty void. He tried to picture her in his mind but parts of her face were blurry as if she was slowly being erased from his mind. If Henry had not been there with him, he would have stood and screamed, and even cried if he could, but alas. He kept everything under wraps and stayed as stoic as possible as his friend ate cake.

"Goodbye, my love," he whispered, but too low to be heard over the wind for Henry to hear. Then he turned towards him and took a piece of cake and ate, making Henry smile.

When he was done with the food, he stood, brushing sand and dusting off his coat. "We need to go back," he said, his voice hoarse as if he had screamed. "I promised Valery I would be there for Eleanor."

Henry nodded and James helped him up, pulling him from the ground.

"You know," Henry said, "I'm really proud of you, my friend."

"Why is that?"

"Because you are the most loyal friend, father, and husband, and I do not think there is a man as good as you."

James snorted as he climbed on his horse. He was also a liar, a manipulator, and a selfish man. No one in his right mind would agree with Henry if they really knew what he was planning. Henry also climbed on his horse and they rode side by side, giving their animals freedom to go at their leisure.

/ / /

Pavilion Gardens; Later that same afternoon, July 29th, 1815.

James was dreading attending his own daughter's birthday party. he had always managed to find an excuse not to go, but this time, he had no excuse, and he had promised Valery he would be there. Why? He still had no idea.

"Fine," he murmured, addressing his wife he could not feel close anymore. "I am doing this for you because I know you want me to attend." He paused. "But do not expect me to enjoy it one bit since she is the cause of your passing."

Only silence answered him, but it was not as if he had expected anything else, really.

"Do try to enjoy yourself," a soft voice came over the breeze in the curtains as he headed to the patio, surprising him mid-step. "And do it for our daughter's sake as well."

"Mari?" he said, looking around, but of course, there was no one. Had it been his imagination or had she really spoken to him, like that time he had felt her, a few days after arriving in Brighton for the Selection? He felt ridiculous, looking around for a ghost in broad daylight and hoping that no one had seen or heard him.

He shook the feeling away, but still tried to heed her words – if it was even her in the first place.

Outside, in the gardens, between the poplar pine trees on the lawn, was a canopy of pink and white fabrics shading some tables and chairs that had clearly been taken from inside the pavilion. On the tables were set out many different dishes filled with food to the brim, with drinks in abundance – wine, tea, juice, and more. In the middle of the table at the center of the buffet stood a tall three-tier pink cake decorated with pink roses (he was not sure if those were edible or not) and green leaves.

Scattered on the lawn on elegant furniture were most of the ladies, all dressed in various shades of pink, chatting excitedly. He himself was dressed in black for it was a day of mourning indeed, but he suddenly felt the urge to go change, not wanting to be a dark stain on his daughter's birthday party. He had no idea where this notion came from and swiftly shrugged it away.

He stood on the patio, unable to join them, though he could not find his daughter in the setting.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Valery said, standing next to him. He had not heard her come close.

"Yes," he replied automatically. "Did you do all of this?"

"No, the cook baked and decorated the cake."

"I meant–"

"I know what you meant," she said softly. "And no, I did not. I only mentioned Ellie's birthday was coming up and asked if anyone wanted to help organize something for her." She paused, watching the ladies. "They all volunteered and all of this was their idea."

"I see," he said.

"They have been quite busy," Valery continued. "Between preparing for your mysterious ball and organizing this party, I think it was a good exercise."

James looked at his friend, a question mark plain on his face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the future princess and queen of England will have her hands full, once she takes on her role fully," Valery said. "Between preparing for various balls and organizing the odd event, she will have to juggle between multiple things at once."

"Indeed." James could not remember Marianne being that busy, but maybe he had not seen everything she was doing. "Where is Eleanor?" he asked.

Valery took out a small pocket watch from the folds of her dark pink dress and opened it, holding the fine gold object in her white-gloved hand – James recognized it as belonging to her own mother, once upon a time. "She will be arriving shortly," the redhead said. "I told her governess to bring her for two o'clock, dressed in pink as well."

From the corner of his eye, he read on the small watch that it was only ten minutes to two o'clock, meaning that he had ten minutes to really put his mind to the party.

"Go talk to them," Valery said, reading his mind. "I am certain they will be delighted to tell you all about the party and how they adore your little girl." She smiled and nudged him gently in the arm. For someone who said she understood him not wanting to marry, she was very encouraging into making him socialize with the ladies.

"Ah, Jamie!" Henry said as he stopped mid-sentence to welcome the prince. "Is this not extraordinary? I was just saying that I did not know there were so many different shades of pink!"

James smiled tightly and nodded. "Speaking of pink," he said, looking at the handful of ladies talking with Henry, "why this choice?"

"If I may, your Highness," Lady Grierson said, tipping her head to him. James nodded so she continued. "We love your little girl dearly, sir, but we noticed the duchess always only wears blue or darker colors, and we thought she might benefit from wearing something more feminine and of her age." She paused, looking at her two friends who nodded, encouraging her to continue. "We have also noticed that your daughter seems older than her actual age, and we wished to encourage her to be a child still, my lord."

"I see," he said, though he had noticed none of these things himself. Who was he to know what color a young girl should wear, or how mature she should or should not be? That was her governess' job.

"There she is!" someone whispered loudly, making all the ladies stand and turned to the young girl walking with her head high toward them. Her posture was impeccable, and James understood what Louise meant when she said she looked older than her age. He might have to ask a few questions to Valery and see if the governess was indeed appropriate or not. But that was a task for another time. Right now, his daughter was looking at him, expectant, and he smiled at her, noticing that all the ladies had curtsied in her presence.

"Hello, darling," he said, going down on one knee to be at her level. He took one of her tiny hands in his big one and softly kissed it like he would have her mother. "Happy Birthday, Eleanor."

"Thank you, Papa," she replied in a small, quite emotional voice, but the smile on her face was unmistakable.

And that was all. During the rest of the afternoon, James stayed on the sidelines, watching as the ladies took part in the party, making Eleanor feel like she was the queen of Brighton. He sat in the shade of the pink canopy, sipping a cup of tea, and simply observed. From what Frederika had told him a few days earlier, most of the ladies were indeed very fond of the Duchess, and he could clearly see it.

"Come play with us, Your Highness," Miss Henrietta Grace said, coming over and curtsying briefly. "I am certain your daughter would be delighted if you did."

James looked up at the dark-haired harpist. Behind her on the lawn, his daughter had a blindfold on and was trying to catch the ladies who were laughing and giggling. Eleanor seemed to be having a jolly good time.

"I have to admit I have never played blind-man's buff in quite some time," he said. He had never played it, to be completely honest, but he could not admit that his childhood had not been the happiest out there.

"Very well, sir," she said, a little disappointed, and walked away.

In the game, Miss Jemima Delaney let the duchess touch her arm, and so it was her turn to put the blindfold on, which made Ellie laugh and giggle as James had never heard before. That laugh was so much like Marianne's and his heart clenched in his chest. His teacup trembled slightly in his hand and he carefully put it down on the table, not wanting someone to hear it.

"I know what you are thinking, my friend," Henry said, sitting next to the prince.

"And what is it, pray tell?"

"That this is such a wonderful party and that Mari would have loved it! Do you not think? And look at the cake! What a masterpiece! I think the cooks have outdone themselves this time."

James did not say anything at first, but then he had to agree with Henry: Mari would have loved playing in the grass with Ellie. The way she had said her name when their daughter was born had been so full of love… Watching his wife playing with their daughter would have been so wonderful as well, every game full of love and happiness. He wondered why he could not bring himself to do it, for Mari's and Ellie's sake.

"I know it is hard for you to see play and fun as something normal, especially without Marianne around to pull you into it," Henry said softly. "But you can trust these ladies to bring as much joy and love into Ellie's life if you only wished to see and admit it." He paused, watching as Jemima caught the skirt of a distracted Elsie as everyone around them giggled, Ellie included. "I am more than certain one of these ladies will make your life much brighter, as well as your daughter's."

At Henry's words, James' gaze drifted to one of the ladies in particular and met her eye as well, but before Henry noticed it, he quickly looked at the group still playing on the lawn. Perhaps his friend was right. What then? Could he go through with it? He needed a male heir, so he really did not have a choice.

But his friends were coming soon – hopefully – and they would reduce the problem and the choice for him: that was all that counted, really.


hello! thanks for stopping by and reading! I hope you like with bittersweet chapter... I know, none of us were ready for that first scene, but it was necessary. but don't worry, the best is yet to come because THE DUDES ARE ARRIVING NEXT CHAPTER! yaaay! I can't wait for you to meet them hehe. chaos will most certainly follow. LOL

see you next time! byeee!

PS: thanks for reviewing as well! your reviews here on FF really make my day each and every time ;)