Fourteen:
A Breath of Hope

Elsie stood watching Fiona. She was seated on the seat of the library's bay window, focused on the children's book in her lap, and Elsie thought she'd never seen the girl look happier or lovelier. The front of her hair was up and the rest of the curly black locks trailed down her back – she supposed Charles had at least tried to do her hair in the mornings, so she should be glad that Fiona wasn't running around like a heathen. Her nose was still large like Charles's, too large for her face, but she nibbled on her lip as she concentrated on her book, and she was still quite charming. Elsie felt badly that Dr. Clarkson had recommended that the little girl begin wearing a corset immediately to help prevent her scoliosis from getting worse, because it would be a pain she would have to endure the rest of her life, but she was pleased that the child's posture was much improved in her absence.

"Your Auntie Beryl said I'd find you up here," Elsie said with a smile, drawing Fiona's attention up from her book.

Fiona immediately slammed her book closed and flew off the window seat with her excitement. "Mummy," she cried, flinging her arms around Elsie's legs and holding her tightly. "I missed you – I'm sorry – I didn't mean to –"

"Shh, I know," Elsie murmured, gently untangling the girl's curly hair with her fingers. "Goodness, what has your father done to your hair? Silly man doesn't know what he's doing. Well, we'll have you sorted first thing tomorrow –"

"I'm to help Auntie Beryl make the wassail and the Christmas biscuits," Fiona said. "She thinks I can make the biscuits myself; I've done it two times now and Her Ladyship said they were very nice. I'm sorry I was so mean, mummy, I just – why are you crying?"

"Because you're calling me mummy," Elsie said softly.

"Daddy said you got married, so that makes you my mummy now," Fiona stated plainly.

"But you were so cross with me, I wondered if –"

Fiona paused and looked at her. "I did need you, but daddy explained that he needed you, too, and that's why you weren't there. It happened lots of times and I thought you didn't love me anymore. He said you love me more than I know and that's got to be a lot because you love me so much."

"I do," Elsie said firmly. "But I need you to tell me when I do something that makes you feel badly, my darling girl, instead of running away and throwing a tantrum – all right, love?"

"Are you home to stay now?"

"Yes," Elsie murmured. "It's going to be Christmas in a few days, and I couldn't be away at Christmas, could I?"

"No – is your sister feeling better? Daddy said she took poorly and you had to go look after her."

"She's still very weak and very ill," Elsie said gently, "but she will get better with time. She asked about you, and I said we might try to come visit in the spring."

Fiona nodded and smiled. "After the baby comes?"

"Now, how do you know about that?" Elsie asked sternly. "Beryl said your father hadn't told you –"

"Lady Violet came to tea and I had to go up and see her," Fiona said cheerfully. "She wanted to see how much I've grown. Lady Cora told her that you and daddy were having a baby."

"Does it bother you?" Elsie asked worriedly.

Fiona paused, then shook her head. "You're a good mummy; I know you've got enough love for the baby and me."

Elsie was near tears. "I am so sorry, my darling girl, that I upset you," she said softly, hugging Fiona tightly. "I am. I never meant to hurt you."

"I know," Fiona said quietly. She looked at the clock and gasped. "I've got to go! Auntie Beryl and me are making scones for teatime."

"Go, then, love," Elsie said with a smile. "I'll be there tonight to tuck you in."

Fiona hugged her tightly again, then smiled up at her. "I love you, mummy."

"I love you, too, my sweet, darling girl," Elsie said. She gave Fiona a kiss and shooed her on her way.

Lady Cora was annoyed and in pain. She'd been having false labor pains for the last three days and her nerves were frayed to the point she was snapping at everyone. And hearing that Mrs. Carson had returned and had gone to the library to see Fiona rather than come upstairs and confer with her was doing nothing for her damaged calm.

Of course, she reasoned with herself, Mrs. Carson was well within her rights to want to greet her family and change clothes before she came up – however, it stood to reason that, as her employer, Cora's wishes should come first.

She was up and pacing restlessly when Mrs. Carson finally came into the parlor. "M'lady, I apologize," Mrs. Carson said. "I'm afraid I needed to see Fiona before I came upstairs."

Cora smiled wanly. "Of course," she said. "How was your trip? Is your sister better?"

"Becky is doing much better than she was," Mrs. Carson said, her voice low and soft. "The doctors believe she will make almost a full recovery, but she wasn't about to rest until I got there. I apologize for just… running like that."

"You'd best apologize to Mr. Carson," Cora warned. "He was not pleased to find out that you'd just run off like that. There was a lot of shouting – and several broken saucers. You do tend to unbalance him, dear." She inhaled deeply and moaned as another pain rippled down her back. It was worse than any of the others before had been, but it wasn't right to be a true labor pain yet.

"M'lady, maybe you should sit down," Mrs. Carson advised gently. She came closer, reached out and took Cora's arm to steady her. "You've gone very pale – how close are the pains now?"

"Six minutes," Cora dismissed. "I was up all night with pains up to three minutes apart and bloody nothing bloody happened. It was false labor."

Mrs. Carson frowned. "M'lady, I think we should send for the doctor, just in case –"

"Dr. Clarkson is sick of my face," Cora snapped. "And my lady bits, I'm sure."

"M'lady!"

"Well, it's true," Cora muttered, shaking Mrs. Carson off and pacing like a caged animal. Up one side of the room and down the other, quickly and furiously. "He's seen them often enough. He's been here every day. Twice yesterday." She paused in her pacing, hearing an odd little noise, then feeling like she'd wet herself. Not again; there had been numerous accidents in the last few days as the baby had all but destroyed her bladder.

Mrs. Carson was immediately back at her side. "M'lady, I'll ring for someone to come clean that up," she said gently, "and we'll send for the doctor immediately. You might want to –"

"I am not about to let you – or anyone else – tell me what to do right now!" Cora exclaimed as a new, fresh pain rippled across her belly. "Oh god – oh – I… I need the doctor."

Mrs. Carson rang the bell and came back to steer Cora gently back toward her bedroom. When a maid appeared in the doorway, Mrs. Carson said, "I need you to go tell Mr. Carson to send Kirkland for Dr. Clarkson immediately; Her Ladyship is having the baby and there is no time to waste. Tell Mrs. Oren to boil water and get some toweling boiled as soon as possible. We don't have a lot of time, and if there are any delays in the doctor getting here, I'm just as likely to deliver the poor wee bairn myself as anyone else."

"Oh, this wasn't supposed to happen," Cora groaned, gritting her teeth as she leaned heavily on Mrs. Carson. They staggered back to her bedroom and got her into a fresh nightdress and into bed.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Mrs. Carson said gently. "Are you comfortable now?"

"Please tell me you're joking," Cora huffed. "It's not likely."

Mrs. Carson cracked a smile and rolled up her sleeves. "Lift your knees," she ordered. She looked under Cora's hem and made a face. "Aye, you daft woman, you should've sent for the doctor hours ago. It won't be long and then you'll be pushing."

Cora scowled at her, not liking her forward tone when she was absolutely miserable. "I suppose I'll be stuck with you, then," she muttered.

Mrs. Carson smiled. "My mam was a midwife," she said. "I helped deliver my sister when I was six. I've not forgotten how, m'lady."

Much later, the doctor finally arrived; Cora was miserable, having shouted and screamed and thrown things at the housekeeper and the head housemaid who were the only two souls brave enough to be in the room with her. Dr. Clarkson had cleaned his hands and spoken to Mrs. Carson in what she assumed was Gaelic, then he had examined her just as another fresh hell of pain began. "Lady Grantham, it's time to push," Dr. Clarkson ordered gruffly but kindly.

It took entirely too long; Cora could feel herself losing strength quickly. "Elsie, I need your hands – reach in and put your fingers between the neck and the cord… don't let it cut off the baby's air," Dr. Clarkson ordered. Cora felt more discomfort and shouted that she didn't need a housekeeper's fingers up her twat, but Mrs. Carson's answering glare over her belly was rather formidable and Cora lost herself in a scream of agony.

Finally, blessed relief!

And sudden panic. "Why isn't it crying?" Cora demanded breathlessly. "Is it alive?"

"Aye," came Mrs. Carson's voice very firmly. "She is very much alive, m'lady."

She.

Another painful contraction, then she breathed in relief as the doctor assured her it was over.

She.

Cora felt a keen disappointment; she'd thought for sure it was a boy this time. God, she wasn't sure she would be able to face Robert's disappointment again. He loved her and she loved him, but neither of them had any illusions that for the marriage to be considered an absolute success, there would have to be a son. She had saved the estate by tying her fortune to it, but now there must be a son.

Mrs. Carson brought a small bundle of linen over, a smile on her lips. "You have a beautiful daughter, Lady Grantham," she said softly, passing over the baby.

Cora looked down into the eyes of her second child and lost her heart completely. "Oh," she breathed, "my sweetheart, you are never second best – you are so lovely." She brushed back the stunning golden hair and pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "I love you."

Her very quiet baby girl looked up at her with unfocused eyes and Cora smiled.

Elsie got to their apartment just in time to plait Fiona's hair for the day. Charles was still in bed, snoring away, oblivious. She sent Fiona on her way and changed into her nightgown, vowing that she'd spend all day in the laundry, trying to remove the blood and viscera stains from her dress.

She'd never known there was so much blood involved; of course, she'd always been on the other end of things, as well, so now that she'd seen delivery through the doctor's eyes, it was an entirely different story. She was ever so glad that Charles wouldn't be in the room when she delivered. She didn't think that he would be able to stand that much blood.

She climbed into bed and snuggled up to Charles, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep almost immediately.

END PART FOURTEEN