Page 67 of Alessandra (Chisholm Manor #1)

Through a misty mind, Alessandra could hear voices.

They sounded like they were in the distance, talking.

She could hear them mentioning her name, so knew they must have been talking about her.

"She is very weak, but with enough sleep, she may recover well enough," one voice said.

Alessandra, in her daze, tried to comprehend what they were talking about.

"He is a healthy lad," said the second voice, sounding happy but concerned at the same time.

"But what a sad day to have arrived in this world, with his grandfather..."

Just as Alessandra felt herself begin to drift off to sleep once more, she heard the door open forcefully, and a third voice talk loudly.

The voice reached her and she started to try to call out to it, but her mouth would not speak.

"My wife is in labour?" the male voice asked loudly to anyone who would listen, before a softer, quieter one replied.

"Sir, she has already done her work," Margaret replied.

When Edward looked more closely at Margaret, he realised that the bundle she was holding was not Isabella at all, as he had immediately assumed.

Peering into the face of the little person being enveloped, he felt his emotions overflow once more.

He looked up at Margaret, who answered a question that had not been voiced.

"It is a boy, Sir," she said.

"He appears to be very healthy, but the mistress..."

Edward's eyes tore away from the angelic face of his newly born son, and turned suddenly to the bed in the room.

Seeing his wife looking so lifeless, he immediately thought the worst.

Sensing his distress, the midwife spoke up.

"She is exhausted, but she will recover," she said.

"She needs to sleep now, but this little one does need to feed.

With your permission, I do think we should try and let it."

Edward tried to concentrate on what was being said to him, and eventually nodded in full understanding.

"Yes, of course.

Shall I take him?" he asked.

Margaret handed the baby into his arms, wondering again at how much of a loving, hands-on father he was, compared to many other men.

Edward looked at the small face once more as he carried him over to the bed.

Sitting on the bed, Edward gently undid his wife's nightgown to allow just enough access for the baby to feed.

Carefully, he held both of them in his arms to facilitate it.

Looking at his wife's face, he could see how much the birth had taken out of her. He held back tears, determined to remain strong, at least until his son had fed.

As the baby began to suckle, Alessandra felt the familiar sensation and woke to look down.

It surprised her that Edward was beside her, and a new baby was at her breast.

It took her several minutes to remember that she had given birth.

"Edward," he heard her breathe out as her hand came up and touched his face.

"I am sorry.

I seem to have rushed..."

Edward smiled at her through tears.

"Oh my love, we have a son, and look at him.

He is beautiful."

Alessandra indulged in the new knowledge, and the new feeling of love inside of her, before remembering how the day had begun.

"Edward, someone was hurt," she said and looked into the eyes of the man she loved.

As she became fully awake, she noticed how sad he looked, and how red his eyes were.

"Oh, no! Your father?" she asked.

Edward nodded before breaking down completely.

"Margaret, can you take him please? He has fallen asleep," she called out so the baby could be put down in his bed.

"And could you please both leave us alone and ask that no-one disturb us?"

After they were alone in the room, despite the strong exhaustion she felt, Alessandra put her arms around her husband and let him cuddle into her like a small child, weeping heavily and loudly.

"Oh my love, I am so sorry," she said and then sat silent, letting him speak - or not speak - as he wished.

Edward found himself wrapped in his wife's love.

He indulged in it.

Having watched her go through the same thing when her mother had died the year before, he knew she had a sound understanding of what he was feeling, but it was more the strength he gained from her through her holding him that soothed him.

After a long time, he pulled away from her. He had a conflicted look on his face.

"My mother..." he started to say but immediately felt disloyal about leaving his wife.

"Your mother needs you, Edward.

Go to her ... please," Alessandra encouraged.

She saw a look of relief pass over his face before he kissed her deeply once, started to walk away, and then returned to kiss her even more deeply.

When he finally left the room, Alessandra felt overwhelmingly saddened by the news of her father-in-law's passing.

In contrast, she also remembered the small person lying in a tiny bed not too far from where she was.

She smiled with the decision of what his name was meant to be.

"Charles."