"Margaret?" called Mary, voice fraught with panic. "Margaret, can you hear me?"
"Mary?" came a faint, pain-ridden voice from inside the house. "Is that you?"
"Yes!" cried Mary in relief, pressing herself closer to the door. "Yes, it is me! Are you alright? I thought I heard a scream."
A brief pause, during which Helena and Mary traded fearful glances. Then, from the other side of the door, a low grunt of effort, followed by a sharp intake of breath.
"I cannot move," Margaret told them fretfully. "Mary, I think - I think the baby is coming."
Time seemed to stop for a moment. It was as if everything had paused momentarily: the icy wind whipping Helena's hair across her face died down, and the clopping of hooves on the street below became inaudible, as Helena's mind was filled with a high-pitched buzzing. This could not be happening; not now! Margaret's time was not supposed to be for another month, at least!
"Margaret? Do not worry, Margaret!" called Mary, attempting to sound composed, but Helena, stood next to her, noticed how her voice shook. "We will be with you in just a moment!"
How Mary intended to get through a locked door, Helena couldn't imagine - but her speculation was interrupted by Margaret's frightened voice.
"We?" she echoed, her voice high and drawn. "Is it - are you with him?"
"Of course not!" snapped Mary, who was scrabbling at the doorframe as if searching for some way to prise it open. "I have brought with me a friend, who will be able to help us."
What Margaret made of this, Helena was not to find out - for just then, another wave of agony appeared to come over the young girl, leading to another blood-curdling shriek which sent Mary into a state of complete desperation.
"We are coming, Margaret!" she cried, having abandoned scrabbling at the doorframe in favour of rattling the doorknob violently - but it was well and truly locked.
"Oh, whatever are we to do?" moaned Helena, clutching her handkerchief to her face.
Mary stood back, panting from her exertion.
"I shall force it open," she said simply.
If she hadn't been utterly terrified, Helena might have laughed aloud at this ridiculous statement. There was simply not a chance that Mary possessed the strength to succeed in opening the door by force.
Yet moments later, Helena was proved completely wrong, as Mary hoisted up her skirts and aimed a solid kick at the door, which flew open with a satisfying crunch.
"How?" questioned Helena weakly.
"The lock was not strong, and the door itself was flimsy," grunted Mary, ankles covered once again by the hem of her skirts, much to Helena's relief.
Without another word, she was gone; barging straight into the house with Helena staggering along behind her.
They found Margaret in the front room, in a very sorry state indeed. Crumpled on the floor clutching her stomach, the young girl's blonde hair stuck up wildly in all directions, a few strands obscuring her reddened face. Her pretty face was screwed up in agony, and there were tears pooling in her brown eyes.
"Mary!" she gasped in relief. "It truly is you!"
Within seconds Mary had closed the distance between them, dropping to the floor and enveloping her friend in her arms.
"You are safe, now," murmured Mary softly. "All will be well."
Margaret drew back, shaking her head wildly.
"The baby is coming, Mary!" she repeated, as if they had not understood the first time. "We do not know how to deliver a baby!"
"Well," swallowed Mary, "I believe we first require some wet cloths or some such thing..."
As Mary's voice trailed off into silence, the reality struck all three women simultaneously: not one of them had the faintest idea what to do next.
"I shall go and seek out a doctor," announced Helena suddenly, who up until now had remained unnoticed in the corner.
Looking back, this had not been a sensible idea to suggest. Back home, Helena would simply have journeyed into Alverton to fetch the village doctor. But they were in London, where Helena was highly unlikely to stumble upon a doctor on the street by chance.
In the heat of the moment, however, none of them paused to consider the practicalities. Margaret was in too much agony to think clearly at all, and Mary was so consumed with terror that she simply agreed with Helena's suggestion, urging her to go immediately.
Once stood in the street, however, Helena realised how foolish she had been. The only chance she had of locating a doctor was by knocking on each of these doors until she found one, or someone who could tell her where to find them.
Deciding she had better begin with the woman they had previously spoken to, Helena crossed the road once again - only narrowly avoiding being hit by yet another oncoming hackney carriage which seemed to appear from thin air. For Helena, who had passed her entire life in the countryside, such a volume of road traffic was unimaginable, and after this near miss she found herself jumping violently each time she heard the clopping of hooves on the cobblestone.
The poor woman looked most distressed to see Helena on her doorstep again - and unfortunately, this time she could be of little assistance. She was not aware of anybody on this street who could afford to be seen by a doctor, she had said, and recommended that Helena head west, towards a place called Finsbury Circus, where she had heard word professionals such as doctors could be found.
Thanking the woman - with yet another twinge of guilt for the appalling conditions she and many others were forced to live in - Helena headed off in the direction she had been pointed. The going was hard, though, and within ten minutes or so Helena found herself growing exhausted. It seemed as though she had been walking hours; the sensation not helped by the darkness cloaking the streets, although it could not be long past midday. In the city, Helena learned, there was never truly daylight - the continuous plumes of smog churned out by the surrounding factories' chimneys led to a permanent grey fog, which made it even more difficult to avoid oncoming traffic.
Swaying slightly in the swirling wind, Helena shivered, attempting to draw her pelisse tighter about her. The drizzle had now become a deluge, and after a few minutes of battling through the driving sheets of rain Helena's clothing was completely sodden, likely ruined beyond repair. Her bonnet hung limply to her head, and the hem of her once-white gown was completely covered in mud as she sloshed through the endless filthy puddles flooding the street.
It would have been easy to give up entirely; to duck into one of the coffee houses or bookshops now appearing on either side street, whose bright, cosy interiors looked desperately tempting.
But there were two young girls in extreme distress currently relying on her - and Helena would lose consciousness before letting them down.
Battling on through each sluggish, painful step, Helena became vaguely aware that she had at some point left the deprived area of Spitalfields. Ahead was a large, circular arrangement of grand-looking houses - and suddenly, a beacon of hope blazed inside her.
With a final surge of energy, Helena forced herself to close the remaining distance between herself and the tall sandstone buildings. They formed a circular structure around a neatly-kept garden; this had to be the place the woman had spoken of! Now all she had to do was locate a doctor!
By now, though, Helena's teeth were chattering violently, legs wobbling beneath her as her energy waned. It had been foolish to wear her silk pelisse instead of her warm winter cloak - yet Helena had found herself unwilling to put on the latter garment, memory still raw with the horrid man's claws fondling it as he hurled her down onto the bed.
Blinking furiously in an attempt to rid her mind of the terrible images, Helena wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to preserve some small amount of heat. The woman had neglected to mention how large Finsbury Circus was; it could take the entire day to locate a doctor here! And all the while, Margaret lay on the filthy floor of her squalid accommodation, in pain and in need...
Just as Helena was on the verge of breaking down in tears, she heard a voice from somewhere above her. It was the most beautifully familiar sound she had ever heard, and for a moment she wondered if perhaps she was dreaming.
"Helena? Is that you? Good God, what on earth are you doing here?"
With the last ounce of energy in her weary, frozen body, Helena turned her head in the direction of the sound.
"J-J-Joseph?" she stammered weakly, blinking blearily through the curtain of rain.
A slapping of footsteps on wet stone - and then a pair of strong, muscular arms, winding themselves tightly around Helena's slight frame.
"Oh Lord, you are frozen - and wet through!"
Moments later, Helena became aware of a thick, heavy overcoat being placed around her shoulders; though by this stage she was so frozen that the extra layer hardly made any difference.
"What - how?" Joseph was stuttering incredulously.
With one hand clutching his top hat to prevent it from blowing away, his other grasped Helena's arm firmly, as if afraid she may disappear before his eyes.
As Helena gazed into his intelligent grey eyes, admiring the familiar angles of his jawline and the unfamiliar bronzed hue of his skin, she decided she must be hallucinating. This image before her was simply what her mind wished her to see; Joseph was not here, in London. He was elsewhere, in the country - and likely wed by now.
It registered in Helena's mind that the Joseph-image was speaking; yet she found herself at a loss to decipher his words. Upon finding herself being steered gently towards a waiting carriage, however, she began to struggle in protest. She could not leave - some vague recollection at the back of her mind told her that she had come to this place for something important...
"M-M-Margaret is having a b-baby!" she blurted out suddenly, desperate for the Joseph-image to understand.
This did not have the desired effect; his brows knitted in deep concern as he half-lifted her into the carriage, despite her weak attempts to wriggle from his arms.
"You are delirious," he muttered anxiously, hopping easily up into the carriage beside her. "We must get you into the warmth immediately."
"N-n-no!" cried Helena desperately. "Margaret n-needs a doctor!"
Something about Helena's tone must have finally reached through to Joseph, for he was now finally regarding her as if he believed her.
"Margaret," he repeated slowly, brow furrowing at the unfamiliar name. "Who is Margaret?"
"No - time," insisted Helena. "We must go t-to Spitalfields!"
In that moment, Helena remembered just why she had loved Joseph so fiercly for so long - for she had now dared allow herself to believe that it truly was Joseph before her. Though he clearly believed her to be half-delirious, he had listened to what Helena had to say - and followed through with her wishes without question. It was how he had always been; with Joseph, Helena always felt as though she mattered.
"Spitalfields; with haste!" cried Joseph, with a knock on the roof of the carriage to alert the driver.
Within moments the wheels were in motion, Helena feeling slightly queasy as she swayed and jolted with the movement of the carriage, half-slumped in Joseph's arms. Though there was nothing she desired more than to curl up in a ball and fall asleep, Helena fought furiously to remain conscious; there were two distressed young ladies relying on her.
The journey back to Spitalfields seemed vastly quicker than the painfully slow one Helena had just made. Watching the derelict-looking houses flash by the carriage window, Helena felt truly thankful for Joseph's timely arrival; even if she had somehow succeeded in locating a doctor, Helena would never have made it back to Margaret's house without first receiving medical attention herself...
But she had not succeeded in locating a doctor!
"We must turn back!" yelped Helena suddenly, twisting in her seat with a sudden burst of energy. "The baby - Margaret requires a doctor!"
"Please calm yourself, Helena - it will not be doing you any good," coaxed Joseph gently, fingers reaching out to stroke her hair as if he did not quite realise what he was doing. "This woman is giving birth, you say?"
Helena nodded fervently.
"Then we shall take her to Louisa's house in Grosvenor Square, where we may seek the service of her doctor," said Joseph firmly. "It is safest for her to be somewhere comfortable and clean."
Despite the whirling fog encompassing her mind, Helena could not fail to pick up on this all-important detail.
"You are residing in Grosvenor Square? With Louisa?" she squeaked incredulously, her confusion only increasing as Joseph responded with a nod.
None of it made any sense! What reason could Joseph have to be staying with his sister in London, when by his sister-in-law's account he was supposed to be on the verge of marrying?
Unless he had found a bride whilst in London...
Helena was not to have these questions just now, for they had arrived in Spitalfields, and the address of Margaret's house was required. It was promptly given, and within moments they were pulling up outside the property in question. Helena knew it was the correct one, for she spied the woman across the road gaping incredulously at the magnificent carriage through her front window. With so many sightings of nobility on their street in a single afternoon, the poor woman was probably at a complete loss as to what was going on!
No sooner at Helena attempted to struggle upright than she found herself forced gently back into her seat by Joseph.
"Stay; I will go," he told her gently, rising to his feet. "Do not worry, Helena - all will be well."
Joseph alighted from the carriage and strode purposefully up the stairs towards Margaret's heavily dented front door, head bowed slightly against the rain. Watching from the window, Helena felt a pure, unadulterated swell of affection deep inside her, like the current of a river flowing out into the sea. For the first time since leaving Alverton Hall, the knot of tension in Helena's stomach uncoiled itself just a little. Joseph was here - somehow, Helena knew everything would now be fine.
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A/N: So, I was pretty excited to share this chapter with you guys! Helena and Joseph are finally reunited, yaaaay! Can't wait to write more #Jolena scenes. :D Or are we thinking #Jelena? I'm going to leave their ship name up to you guys. ;) Comment your preference, and vote if you enjoyed!