Dawn of the Duchess

19. Birth of New Resolve

Everyone crowded into the room together. Amy had long abandoned her fake sobbing. As much fun as it had been, now was not really the time.

"Push!" one of the doctors around the bed in the center of the room advised. "Push!"

"What da friggin' 'ell do ye think I'm doin? Pullin'?" The harpy on the bed who somewhat resembled her friend Jenny screamed. "I ain't some idiot in front of an unlabelled front door!"

"Why, 'ello there, Jenny," Amy greeted her friend with a bright smile. "Lovely day, ain't it?"

"Frigg ye, too!"

"Ah." Amy nodded. "Dat's my friend dat I know and love."

"What is the poor girl talking about?" the dowager duchess whispered. "What is a 'frigg'?"

"An ancient Germanic goddess," Lord Patrick hastily leapt forward before Amy even opened her mouth, leaving her quite impressed by his supreme bullshitting abilities. "Though why she would mention something like that now I couldn't guess, unless..."

"The poor girl!" Cooing, Her Ladyship bent down to embrace the panting, groaning Jenny. "She's hallucinating!"

Over the shoulder of Her Ladyship, Amy noticed her friend throw Lord Patrick a deadly glare. Judging by the way he ducked behind one of the doctors, His Lordship seemed to decide that from now on it would be best to keep his mouth shut, just in case.

Luckily for him, though, this was a delivery, and thus, most of Jenny's ire was naturally concentrated on someone else right now.

"Where is 'e?" Eyes burning with her desire for vengeance, Jenny whipped her head from left to right, looking around the room, searching. "Where is da son of a bitch!"

"And now she is imagining a puppy?" Shaking her head sadly, the dowager duchess turned towards one of the doctors. "Can't you give her anything to help her?"

"Well, ehem..." The doctor, who in Amy's opinion seemed to have pretty good survival instincts, cast a hesitant glance at the glaring Jenny. "I'd rather not risk it."

"Oh my, you think it might harm her?"

"Um..." He threw another glance at the murderous-looking pregnant lady. "It would certainly cause harm, yes."

"My goodness! Then what can we do?"

"Get dat bastard who did this 'ere!" A renewed roar echoed through the room. "Get 'im 'ere so I can strangle 'im!"

"Um, perhaps we should call her husband here?" the doctor suggested, taking cover behind a cabinet with medical supplies. "He might be able to comfort her."

"Hm...you might be right, doctor."

"You think so, Your Grace? Wonderful!" Clapping his hands in joy, the doctor leapt out from his cover and whirled to face the door. "I'll go and fetch him then! See you later!"

And, without another second's hesitation, he fled the room.

Yes. Amy nodded to herself. Really impressive survival instincts.

By the looks of it, Dr Thomas T. Gallagher seemed to think so, too.

"Nurse?"

"Yes, Doctor?" the nurse in the corner piped up.

"Doctor Martin's compassion and care is really quite extraordinary. He should be rewarded. Have him put on night shift cleaning duty in the morgue for three months, will you?"

"Yes, Sir!"

Amy decided this doctor friend of Patrick's wasn't too bad. Now, if only he helped her friend live through this and continued pranking Patrick, she might just grow to like him.