Dawn of the Duchess

19. Birth of New Resolve

And if 'e fails, I'll boil 'im alive!

Stepping over towards the bed, she grabbed a water jug on the bedside table, dunked Lord Patrick's handkerchief—which just so happened to have found its way into her possession—into the liquid, and started cleaning Jenny's sweat-soaked brow.

"Well, well, girl," she mumbled, gazing down at her friend. "Look what a pickle ye've gotten yerself into."

"Isn't as if any of dis is my fault!" Jenny ground out between clenched teeth as convulsions shook her. "It's dat bloody bastard of a man of mine who..."

Amy gave the other woman a look that told her exactly how much she bought any of that bull. "Bollocks! Ye've bin in da business just as long as I! I wager ye know more dan half a dozen methods ta avoid little 'accidents'." Glancing down, she tapped the prone woman's quivering belly. "And dat one ain't little by a long shot!"

"I..." Amy watched as colour rose to Jenny's face. "Ye know I'm married to a bloody vicar! I couldn't just—"

"Bollocks!" Amy repeated, staring at her friend suspiciously. "Ye've never given a flyin' fig what ye can and can't do! I don't see ye startin' now. Unless..."

Her suspicious gaze intensified—then, as Jenny's blushed deepened, a smirk spread over Amy's face. "Aww, dat's so cute! Ye wanna make 'im 'appy!"

"Shh!" Jenny hissed. "Not so loud! 'e might 'ear ye!"

"From 'alfway across da city?" Straightening up, Amy cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. "Oy, listen up! In case anybody's interested, Jenny wants ta make 'er 'ubby 'appy!"

Nobody even glanced her way. They were far too busy discussing how to alleviate the poor woman's suffering.

"See?" Her smirk widening, Amy patted her friend's shoulder.

"You bloody little—" But whatever lovely insults Jenny was about to bestow on her best friend, Amy never got to hear them. Because, in the next moment, an earth-shattering scream of pain tore apart the air. Jenny convulsed on the bed, her fists clenching the sheets.

"Crap." Amy pulled a face, glancing down at her friend's agonized face. "Drat! So much for successfully distractin' ye from what's going on."

"N-nice try," Jenny wheezed. "Thanks for the—aaagh!"

"Push," Amy offered the most helpful piece of advice she could come up with, pointing to the foot of the bed. "In dat direction, I believe."

"Go frigg yerself!"

"I'm afraid I've got nothing ta do with any paltry little goddesses. I'm much more awesome dan dem."

"Ye—agh! Ahahah—agh!" Jenny broke out into a coughing fit. "Curse ye! I can't be laughin' right now!"

Innocently, Amy blinked down at her friend. "Ye can't? Den do ye want me ta tell ye some jokes?"

"Don't ye dare, you—!"

"A doctor, a duchess and a lady of da night went into a bar...."

Conscientious friend that she was, Amy spent the next ten minutes or so telling her wheezing and giggling friend one joke after another. By the time she was done, Jenny was pretty much out for the count. Satisfied, Amy nodded to herself. Her friend seemed to be sufficiently sedated. And without any drugs, at that. Laughing gas was used to sedate people, so why not use laughing without the gas?

"Ye...hahaha—argh! Oh...ahahah, oh God, I'm gonna get ye for dis!" Jenny groaned.

Amy smiled sweetly at her friend. "I'm more dan willing ta challenge ye for a little boxing match. In fact, I've got plenty of free time for about the next, oh...eight hours or so?"