A Laird for All Time by Angeline Fortin (room on the broom read aloud txt) 📗

Chapter 27

A quick tap sounded at the door and Margo burst in.  “M’lady!” she called and drew up short at the sight of Emmy kneeling between Connor legs and their mutual state of undress.  “Oh!  I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean…”

Emmy stood securing the dressing gown tighter trying to suppress a blush over what Margo probably thought was happening.  “It's okay, Margo.  What’s up?”

“Oh, m’lady,” she cried.  “I need your help.  My mum is having an awful time.”

“What is it?” Emmy asked in concern.  “You said she was feeling unwell?”

“It’s the baby!” Margo exclaimed with tears starting to build in her eyes.

“What baby?” Emmy and Connor asked in unison.

“Mum’s having another baby, but she’s having a terrible time of it this time.”  Margo wrung her hands in worry.  “Will you come?”

“Of course I will,” Emmy assured her already shifting into doctor mode.  “Hurry, help me dress!”

“I will get a carriage ready,” Connor offered and snatched up his shirt before leaving the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier that your mom was in labor, Margo?” she chided as she pulled on a shift and shirt since her own underwear was currently soaked.

“It’s her tenth babe, m’lady,” she protested.  “I didn’t think she’d need any help with it this time.  Why, the last one came so quick she barely had time to get to the house before it came.”  She drew up the petticoats and skirts around Emmy hips and tied them on.

“Guess she figured she’d seen it all by this point, huh?”  Emmy slipped her feet into her boots and grabbed the medical bag Connor had sent up.  Margo swept up a cloak for her and they hurried down the stairs.

The carriage made the trip to Lochdon about a mile and a half southwest of Duart at a much faster clip than their earlier drive into Craignure despite the continued rain and wind.  It seemed most of the MacLean clan had populated Lochdon for centuries and it was from here that the laird employed his household staff as well as those who maintained his livestock and worked at the home farm.  Margo’s mother had worked in the castle’s kitchens for many years before devoting herself to her home and children.  Her father, Aengus McAllen, was a second in command to Connor’s steward overseeing the estate’s business.  Margo, the oldest of their children, had been working at the castle for three years first as a chambermaid and now lady’s maid.  Because of the higher status of that position she also resided at the castle with her footman husband.

Emmy and Connor followed Margo into her parent’s small house about ten minutes later.  Though the house seemed poor to Emmy’s mind Connor assured the family was one of the village’s more prestigious because of the positions Margo and her father held at Duart.  Connor hung back as Emmy forged onward up the stairs in Margo’s wake.  He was welcomed hesitantly by the six of Margo’s younger siblings who were gathered in the main parlor of the house.  They ranged in age from two to fifteen.  On a whole they were silent and withdrawn, because of his presence or their mother’s trails, he did not know.

The oldest present was a girl, Mairi, who offered him whiskey which he accepted wondering whether he should leave but knowing he would not until Heather was ready to return to Duart.  Remembering he had sent McAllen to Glasgow earlier that week, he tried to take interest in the children remembering small things their father had said of them.

Footsteps sounded above and he wondered if Heather were truly as capable as her confidence indicated.  He hoped so.

Emmy took little time introducing herself to Margo’s mother, Cora, asking a series of questions to acquaint herself to the woman’s history as she went through the motions of washing her hands and beginning her initial examination.  “How old are you, Cora?”

“Forty and one, m’lady,” she panted.

“This is your tenth pregnancy?”

“Twelfth, m’lady,” was her response.

“God, that’s just nuts,” Emmy murmured to herself under her breath.  Once she had delivered the sixth child in a family but many considered having too many kids irresponsible unless you could afford to raise them all way through college.  People with too many kids were novelty and ended up on TV reality shows or were taunted by the press.  Absently Emmy wondered what a show about the McAllen’s and their broad would be called.

And all by forty-one!  If she had had to take a guess she would have thought the woman closer to fifty than forty.  Of course, she wasn’t at her best at that particular moment, she allowed.   “Were the other two to term or miscarried?”

“Both suffered illness after birth, m’lady,” Margo informed her as she laid a cool cloth over her mother’s brow.  “Please, m’lady, can you help her?”

“I’ll do my best, Margo,” she shot the girl a smile of assurance as she made her examination.  “Have you ever had any difficulties in delivery before?”

“None, m’lady.”

Emmy’s examination discovered the problem in quick time.  “The baby is breech, Cora.  We’re going to have to turn it but I need you to stay very still while I do it.  Is there anyone else here who can help you hold your mother, Margo?”

“Just the little ones, m’lady, and my sisters.”

“Are they old enough to be of real service?” she asked.

Margo and Cora looked at each other and shook their heads in unison.  “No brothers?  Your husband?”

“Cam accompanied my father to Glasgow this week,” Margo explained referring to the oldest of her brothers.

“If its okay with you then, Cora, I’d like to have Connor...the laird come up and help us out,” Emmy told her.

“Okay?” Cora panted.

“She means if it’s acceptable, mum,” Margo translated having gotten used to Emmy’s phrasing over the past several days.

The woman hesitated then nodded miserably.  Emmy sent Margo to fetch Connor as she prepared the tools she would need on a nearby table and gathered towels to sit nearby.

Margo returned quickly to her mother’s side.  “Where is the