A Lady's Fate

Chapter Seventeen

"Oh, Margaret - he is beautiful!"

Helena sighed contentedly as she regarded the pink head and short tufts of blond hair peeking out from beneath the bundle of warm blankets. All the struggles of the past few days had been for the purpose of this very moment; to ensure that Margaret could bring her beautiful little boy into the world safe and healthy.

The new mother herself looked exhausted beyond words. With her grey complexion and purple, bruise-like circles under her eyes, Margaret appeared to be in need of a solid week of sleep. Despite this, she was beaming widely, eyes never leaving her son as Helena cradled him in her arms, admiring each of George's perfectly formed yet impossibly small features while he slept soundly.

"I cannot thank you enough for your kindness, Lady Helena," Margaret told her, voice slightly raspy. "Had you not persuaded Mary to come to my aid despite my foolish stubbornness, I fear that George would not be with us today."

Margaret's eyes misted over with a sorrowful smile, as Mary, who occupied the armchair beside her friend's bed, gave Margaret's hand an encouraging squeeze.

"There, now," she murmured gently. "There is no use in thinking such thoughts, dearest Maggie - George is here, and that is all that matters."

"Indeed," agreed Helena, crossing the room to hand the now stirring baby back into his mother's open arms.

Margaret gazed down at her child in open adoration.

"He is so small," she said fretfully, taking George's tiny hand in her own as his eyes opened, revealing them to be a clear, bright blue. "The doctor believes him to be healthy, despite being born before nine months had passed - yet I cannot help but worry."

"It is only natural," replied Mary soothingly. "Yet the doctor proclaimed him healthy, and so we must trust him."

Margaret smiled weakly.

"Yes, I suppose you are right," she agreed.

Watching the tender way in which Margaret smiled down at her son, Helena felt a twinge of envy, as she realised that she would never experience the incredible gift that was a child to call her own. Although Margaret could no longer marry, she would at least have little George to care for; there was a purpose to her life.

Helena, meanwhile, would have nothing. No husband; no baby; no friends remaining amongst her neighbours.

She was proud to have helped Margaret, certainly - yet Helena would not be human were she not to feel a tinge of sorrow to think of all she had given up for the cause.

Feeling a lump grow suddenly in her throat, Helena gave an awkward cough.

"Forgive me, for I still find myself rather weary," she croaked. "Please do excuse me while I return to my bedchamber to rest awhile."

Margaret nodded, distracted by George - but Mary raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Are you certain that is best for you?" she asked knowingly.

Helena sighed, frustrated. Mary meant well by attempting to distract Helena from her heartbreak - but Helena alone knew that a lengthy cry was what she needed at this moment.

"Perfectly certain, Mary," replied Helena, vacating the room before Mary had chance to reply.

She had barely ventured three steps along the corridor, however, when she found herself very much regretting her decision.

From somewhere upstairs in Louisa's vast home came the sound of a door opening, followed by the patter of footsteps on an unseen staircase - and moments later, Louisa herself rounded the corner, beaming with delight as she saw Helena before her.