Of Silk and Steam
Page 50

“Where’s the midwife?” he demanded. Christ, Honoria didn’t need to hear that.
“I can’t find ’er,” Lark replied. “’Ouses are all abandoned. Everyone who can ’old a pitchfork’s up on the walls. There’s burnin’ in other parts of the city too.”
“Blade—” Honoria cried weakly as Esme rubbed her back. “Oh God—what if they burn the walls? What if—”
“They’re not going to get through the walls,” Leo replied, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. “Look at me. Blade knows what he’s doing and what he’d be up against. They’ve been stockpiling weapons and supplies for months now—”
“What about Lena? And Will?” Honoria’s eyes filled with tears. “Lena was supposed to be here for this. She said she’d be here.”
He didn’t dare give his little sister and her husband too much thought. They’d be safe. They had to be. “No doubt Will is aware of what’s occurring. He’ll make his way here with Lena, or he’ll take her somewhere safe.” For such a small woman, Honoria had one hell of a grip. Leo ground his teeth, ignoring the pressure.
“If there are fires burning elsewhere in the city, then the mobs are rising. The Echelon won’t be able to focus all of their attention here. It’s all right, Honor. Blade’s not going to get hurt.” A ball of emotion tightened in his throat. “I won’t let him get hurt. I promise I’ll watch his back for you.”
“You’re going to join the fighting?” Esme asked.
“I’m not much use here.” This was women’s business, and Honoria needed to know her little family would be safe. He’d brought this all down upon them. This was his sister and his niece or nephew. The least he could do was make certain they and her husband survived the war.
No matter what he had to do. He turned to Lark. “Keep looking for the midwife. I’ll ask the duchess if she’s had any experience in this.”
Blinking through tear-glazed eyes, Honoria whispered, “Don’t let him get hurt.”
“I won’t.” Leo kissed her cheek. “Now you make sure you look after yourself and this baby.”
* * *
The door banged open.
Mina stepped away from the window and the sight of the ruddy glow on the horizon as Barrons strode inside. A manacle dangled from her wrist, and part of the headboard was broken. His mouth tightened when he saw her standing free.
“Still here,” she said, lifting her wrist and displaying her iron trappings. He’d chained her to the bed, of all things.
“I see I keep underestimating you,” he replied, shooting a quick glance through the window.
Mina smoothed her skirts. She could feel the tension in him; he didn’t give a damn about her freeing herself. Something had happened.
“What do you know of childbirth?” he asked.
“A little. I attended the queen two years ago when her son was born not breathing.” Possibly the most horrific experience in her life. That poor baby that Alexa had wanted so very much, that Mina had wanted… “Why? Is it—” An image flashed to mind of the heavily pregnant young woman she’d caught a glimpse of when she first arrived. “Blade’s wife’s been put to bed, hasn’t she?”
“My sister.” Hesitation caught his next words, then he met her eyes. “They’re searching for the midwife, but there’s been no sign of her. Esme’s asking some of the…women of ill repute outside if they’ve dealt with a birth, but it concerns me. I’ve seen the reports on hygiene and birth fatalities in the East End—”
“Barrons, are you asking me if I can attend your sister?”
There was something she thought she’d never see in his eyes. “Do you know what to do? Can you help her? If anything happened to her—” He swore then, raking a hand through his gilded hair as he glanced once more at the edges of Whitechapel. “I should never have come here. Honoria should have been resting these last few weeks, not dealing with this. If I hadn’t—”
“From my very brief experience, birth is unpredictable at best. It might have happened regardless.” At least all of the books and treatises she’d read in preparation for Alexa’s birthing had claimed such. Still, she was a little shocked. After last night and everything that had happened the day before, she thought she’d be the last person he’d come to for help.
Did he trust her? The thought stilled her breath. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted such a thing until it was lost.
They both stared at each other.
I’m sorry. Mina’s chin tipped up. “Take me to her,” she said softly. “I’ll do my best to help, though that may be little enough indeed.”
Some of the tension in the firm line of his shoulders softened. “Thank you.”
Mina held up her wrist. “The key?”
Barrons dug it out of his pocket. His hands were gentle on her wrist as he unlocked it. The scent of smoke clung to his coat and Mina leaned into him a little, balancing on her toes as she breathed it in.
“If you run”—the words were silk over steel—“I will catch you. No matter how far or fast you run, I will always catch you.”
“What if I don’t want you to catch me?” she dared ask, rocking back on her heels.
Their eyes met. His were implacable. He tugged the manacles loose, a muscle working in his jaw as if he fought some strong emotion. “If you didn’t want me to catch you…then you should have taken your chances with Morioch. It’s far too late for that now, Duchess.”
* * *
The moment she stepped inside the birthing chamber, the smell of it brought back all of the helplessness she’d felt when she’d held Alexa’s hand through her traumatic delivery. It didn’t matter what she’d said to Barrons. She couldn’t do this.
“Your Grace.” A dark-haired woman turned from the birthing stool, relief melting the tension from her face. “Have you any experience with difficult births?”
“Difficult?”
“The baby’s turned,” the woman replied. “It’s not coming as it should. Or so Dolly says.” She turned back to the blond whore kneeling between Honoria’s thighs and feeling her distended stomach.