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The sound the sound of her gasp echoed through the birthing room.

No longer in the throes of the pain from her past, Fanny was now in the midst of an excruciatingly intense contraction.

She could not focus on either pain now, for it would not help her at this moment.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

She needed to focus on a better memory. A spark of joy was what she needed, not sadness, not when she was already combating her physical pain. She needed love. She needed to think about the man she found that loved her the way Johnny had loved Matilde.

Fanny closed her eyes in concentration, desperately trying to get to a better place, a better thought.

She could not help but remember how differently things had gone with her dear Bertram.

Their love had blossomed quickly, but it felt strong and steady.

She had not felt a love this strong since she had met each of her dear daughters at their births.

That kind of undeniable love was the only thing she could compare to the love she had with her husband.

Bertram had been straightforward and sincere, unlike Thomas Bennet's disingenuous flattery and empty promises.

Her current husband's love was absolute.

It was an unfamiliar feeling for her, but she cherished it.

She had been afraid to develop a relationship with another intellectual.

But when he allowed his treasured book to fall into the mud just to catch her as she stumbled, she knew his love was real.

To some it was a simple thing, an unimportant action, but to Fanny it spoke volumes.

They had been married only a short time when she had felt unwell.

After having safely navigated five pregnancies and deliveries, she was well-versed in the sensations that let her know what was happening.

She knew, but had hesitated to confide in her husband.

Old phantoms were hard to conquer, and she very much needed him to be excited about the baby.

When he had come upon his wife kneeling over a chamber pot and having emptied her stomach, Bertram panicked. “Frances, darling, let me call for a doctor. You are not at all yourself lately.”

“It is not anything to worry over, darling.” Taking a settling breath in through her nose, Fanny willed her stomach to obey her.

“This is not the first time that you have cast up your breakfast. If I cannot call for a doctor, what can I do to aid you?”

“Bring me a wet cloth and help me off the floor. I would like to lie down.” The speed at which Bertram rushed to come to her aid was nearly detrimental to her fortitude. “Slowly, dear, slowly, or I will cast something else up. Though I know not what, as I have already lost my breakfast.”

“So sorry. Let me help you into bed.” Bertram helped her to stand and, taking most of her weight, cradled her at his side as he walked slowly to the bed. Once there, he helped to settle her into a comfortable position on her side.

Happy to be lying down, Fanny sighed. “Thank you, my love.” Bertram left her for a time and returned with a cool, wet cloth. She took it and wiped her mouth and face. It was soothing, and she took a moment to simply lie there and regain her equilibrium.

When she finally opened her eyes, her husband was kneeling beside the bed at her side. She smiled at his devotion and the happiness he brought into her life. “Come get in bed with me. I want to tell you something.”

Carefully, he got in bed beside her and pulled her flush against him, as if needing to know that she was there and all right.

He would do that sometimes if he had had a nightmare and needed the reassurance of her warmth.

Fanny smiled and nestled her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the peace and love of the moment.

“I was going to wait to tell you because it is early still, but all the signs are there. I believe that I am with child.” She knew he had not expected children from their marriage, but she had kept hope that it would be possible.

Bertram went still, and then he moved his hand ever so slowly to rest on her belly where their child rested. “Truly?”

“Yes, truly. I was not sick with all of my pregnancies, but it is a symptom I have felt before.” The feeling of nausea was something she knew both from her own experience and from observing the suffering of others who were with child.

“Are you all right? What do you need?” His arms enveloped her entirely, and he held her even closer, as if he would never let her go. He clung to her, scared that something might go wrong, and he would never get to feel her warmth again.

Fanny sensed the fear in his embrace, and she knew she needed to offer some sort of comfort.

Otherwise, she knew he would confine her to bed with his worried gaze tracking her every move for the duration of her pregnancy.

“I am perfectly fine. The nausea will pass soon enough. With Jane, I had no issues, but my pregnancy with Lizzie was a different story. One of the older women I knew claimed that it was because of the curly hair she was born with. She insisted that upset stomachs in pregnant women always predicted a child with curly hair.”

With a sigh of relief, Bertram replied, “I am glad that this will not plague you for the duration, but will you be all right? It has been quite a while since your last child. I had not thought a babe would be possible.” Bertram did not want to offend his wife, but her youngest daughter was almost eighteen.

He worried for her safety. Women died trying to bear children all the time.

“That resulted from my last husband’s choices,” Fanny admitted quietly.

“After having five daughters, he decided I would never have a son, and he stopped visiting me. His decision did not bother me at all. I have helped women in their forties give birth to healthy babies, with no issues. I am still only thirty-nine, though I will admit that I will be forty when the baby comes. I have had five children with no problems; there should be no difficulty with the sixth.” What she did not tell her husband was that she had also seen women of all ages die tragically, trying to bring their babies into the world.

This time, her concentration was disrupted by the faint echo of a voice calling out to her.

The pain had once again changed. Something was different.

Fanny’s eyes fluttered open at hearing the woman’s voice coming from somewhere near her toes.

She could feel the exhaustion of childbirth weighing down on her as she struggled to bring another life forth.

“Mrs. Hawkins. Fanny. It is time to bear down. Come now, you have done this before. This time will be no different.” Fanny’s exhausted mind caught on the way the midwife said her last name.

Being called Mrs. Hawkins filled her with a quiet joy and renewed her strength to press on.

She wanted to see her dear Bertram hold his new child.

It may have taken her over twenty years, but she would finally know that feeling that Mrs. Cooper had spoken of all those years ago.

Straining with all that she had, she fought to bring her newest babe into the light.

Blowing out a hard breath, she took in a great gulp of air before trying again.

She pushed herself up, her knuckles white as she clung to her knees.

The strain she felt was immense, but she was sure that it would be worth it.

She could feel the sweat rolling down her temples and mixing with her tears.

The salty sting of sweat in her eyes was nothing compared to the overwhelming need to give birth.

Laying a clean blanket nearby, the midwife continued to encourage her.

“That’s it, Missus, you have the babe’s head free, only the shoulders left.

On the next pain, you need to bear down one last time.

” In a display of strength worthy of one of Hercules’ labors, Fanny finally brought her babe into the world.

The midwife’s hands moved in a blur as she rubbed them rapidly over the small baby in an attempt to rouse a response. Silence filled the room, and terror seized Fanny’s exhausted heart. The quiet drew out far longer than any mother should have to bear. Then a furious wail filled the room with joy.

“You have a fine boy, Mrs. Hawkins. He already has a grand mess of hair. Here you go, my dear.” The midwife handed the babe over, placing him securely in Fanny’s arms. She knew from experience that once the baby was in the mother’s arms, she would never have a care for the world around her.

“You have faced this night with courage and strength that no warrior could match,” she praised before returning to her tasks of dealing with the afterbirth and cleaning the new mother up.

Another happy ending for another family made her smile despite how tired she was.

Shifting, Fanny placed the baby at her breast and watched him feed.

He was a bit clumsy at first with the unfamiliar task, but soon began drinking with vigor.

“Can you send for Bertram?” she asked, unable to draw her eyes away from her tiny miracle.

“I am sure he is worried.” She had thought she was beyond her years of childbearing.

Two of her five daughters were married and here she was, giving them a baby brother.

She wished that at least one of her daughters had been there with her, but Jane was at her own lying-in, and Fanny had instructed Elizabeth to stay with her.

She did not want to terrify any of her younger girls by allowing them to be exposed to the peril of the birthing room.

Fanny wanted them to have their own encounter with childbirth, free from any preconceived notions from watching her struggle.

Mary, Kitty, and Lydia were hopefully asleep in bed, and she would see them in the morning.

“Darling Frances, please tell me you are all right!” Bertram Hawkins’s movements were swift as he rushed to his wife. His heart turned over at her pale and bedraggled appearance, but he could almost feel the joy radiating from her as she gazed at the little bundle in her arms.

Fanny fought a yawn, knowing how her husband worried for her wellbeing. “I will be fine, my dear. It is simply wearing on one to bring a babe into the world. Now come sit next to me. I want you to meet your son.” She patted the empty spot next to her on their bed.

“Promise me you will let me know if you need anything?” He climbed onto the bed, eager to do her bidding, but not wanting to jostle her or the now sleeping babe.

“I promise, but only if you will hold still,” she teased quietly.

Leaning over, she nestled the sleeping infant in his arms, and she heard his breath catch.

His face was aglow in awe and admiration.

The baby snuggled into his muscular embrace, the contrast between his pale skin and dark clothing creating a striking image.

Her already full heart swelled beyond measure. “What do you want to name him?”

Bertram considered for only a moment before asking, “What do you think about Matthew? It means ‘gift of God’ and I cannot think of a better gift.” The normally loud sound of his baritone had now become a gentle, barely audible whisper, as if he was afraid that his voice alone could break the precious child.

“I like it. We can call him Mattie while he is little, or when he’s older and we wish to tease him.

” Fanny yawned, the quiet satisfaction of her efforts settling over her as she took in the sight of her success.

Love had taken root in her life, and for the first time a long while, she felt truly at peace.

Bertram’s finger tenderly traced the baby’s delicate nose, and he could not help but marvel at its perfection.

As he watched, the baby’s little mouth made a gentle sucking motion in his sleep, and it filled Bertram with astonishment.

“He is utterly perfect, Frances. Have I told you today how wonderful you are?” He dragged his gaze from the beautiful child to his magnificent wife.

Carefully untangling his arm from the blankets around the babe, he softly ran his hand through her damp hair before leaning in to kiss her temple.

On a normal day, she would complain that she looked a mess and needed a moment to see to her appearance. He loved her this way, though.

Chuckling softly, she smiled at the dear man who held her heart. “It is only a few hours after midnight, and something quite occupied me until recently, but I find I have a moment free. You may regale me at your leisure.”

His lips brushed against hers lightly, conveying the love he felt in that moment.

He looked her in the eyes, the intensity of his admiration shining through.

“You are the most wonderful, brave, strong creature I have ever had the privilege of meeting. I am blessed every day that you have consented to be my wife. Giving me this babe is nothing short of marvelous, and I will spend my days making sure you are confident in my regard for you.”

Fanny had been jealous of the love that Mrs. Cooper was confident of all those years ago.

But now, after two decades, she could finally share the warmth and joy of a new baby with the man who cherished her.

It was a precious experience, and she would not give it up for the world.

“You always say the sweetest things.” She nestled close to her husband and rested her head on his shoulder.

With his breathing providing a steady, calming rhythm, she felt safe enough to rest her eyes for a few moments.

Maybe she would take a nap. She deserved it, after all.