Page 173 of The Ladies Least Likely

Amalie’s eyes filled with tears, and she rested a hand on the lace fluttering at her bosom. “That’s—that’s me?” She turned to Harriette with shining eyes. “You made me so beautiful .”

“I paint what I see,” Harriette said loyally, and held out her arms as the girl leaned into her, sniffling.

She could not manage a proper embrace, what with her belly, and even the small pressure made the child within her turn.

Something in her stretched tight, tight, and tighter still.

Then she felt the unmistakable clench, like a belt tightening across her middle, and she knew what was happening.

Her eyes flew across the room to meet Sorcha’s, who raised her eyebrows. Harriette gave her a tiny nod, then looked away to accept the praise of the other girls who crowded around her.

“Angelica Kauffman will adore this one, too,” Aunt Calenberg pronounced after Dunstan brought refreshments and the party turned to tea.

“She has already said she wants it for the next exhibition of the Royal Academy,” Harriette said with pride.

Sorcha had told her first babes took their time.

She would not cut short Amalie’s party, nor her triumph.

This was only her second finished portrait for display, and she wanted to savor the accomplishment.

She still had so much to learn, but after months of work and the interruptions of pregnancy and travel, it had turned out exactly as she wanted, and that was saying something.

“And,” she went on, “Mrs. Kauffman says if she has her way, she will hang it right next to Ren’s.

” Harriette had posed Amalie with her right side facing the viewer partly to hide her left side, but mostly so that her portrait would complement Ren’s, who was looking left in his.

The gorgeous Matheson children would face each other in matched dignity and beauty in the gallery of the Royal Academy Exhibition, and, Harriette hoped, gain her more commissions.

“And the Bessington portraits?” her aunt asked.

“The major figures are done, and it remains only to fill in the backgrounds and a few final details. The family is on holiday in Italy now, but I will finish this fall.”

“And visit Lowenburg this winter,” Ren said. “The little duchess will have to see her lands.”

Harriette grimaced. “The little earl ,” she said, “is like to remain here, safe with his wet nurse. I do not think a babe of a few months ought to travel.”

“I will come with you this time, I think,” Aunt Calenberg said, sipping her tea. “I want to ensure my nephew is proving a proper steward.”

Harriette nodded and kept her face calm as another contraction gripped her.

“He seems to be doing well so far. When we visited last year, for our wedding trip, he and Dietz had made some wonderful restorations to the castle, and more importantly they had made some improvements to the farming practices on our lands. I will be interested to see how the harvest goes this year with the new implements we provided, and I want to see how some of the public buildings we started are progressing. There should be at least one town in Lowenburg that is a center for culture and learning.”

“Harriette is an enlightened duchess.” Ren smiled and squeezed her hand. “She makes sure Franz Karl does not become a despot and that her people are not kept in poverty.”

“As you are an enlightened mill owner, my love.” Harriette squeezed back. “Ensuring that your workers have proper wages, proper doctoring, and proper food, and you do not employ children who are better off being schooled.”

“Bah,” said Aunt Calenberg. “Remind me not to visit again until the honeymoon is over. Being around you two, I scarcely need sugar in my tea.”

Harriette’s hand flew to her stomach as the next contraction gripped her, and Ren saw. “What?”

Of a sudden, Sorcha was at her side. “Are they regular? Close together?”

“No, only one every few minutes.” Harriette drew in a breath as the sharp clench subsided.

“It’s early days, then,” Sorcha decided. “Come, Duchess. Let’s walk.”

Harriette’s travails lasted the day and she very much doubted that, as she’d been assured, she would forget the pain once the child was placed in her arms. One did not lightly forget the pain of having one’s insides rent to impossible proportions.

But she was glad the child chose that day to emerge, for she had all her favorite people in the house, and the sounds of movement and life downstairs helped her feel less alone in her agony as she withdrew to the upstairs room that had been prepared as a birthing chamber.

In the end it was Sorcha, Chima, Natalya, and her aunt in the room with her, along with the midwife, who insisted on having pots of hot water and everything she touched dipped in it, including their hands.

To her surprise, Natalya proved the most soothing presence, holding Harriette’s hand as she walked the room, pushing her damp hair away from her face.

“I had twins once,” she said off-handedly, as if she were remarking on the weather. “Such slippery little eels they were! Their father wanted them, and they are being raised in his house. I will go back to see them someday, when they are old enough to know me.”

Harriette couldn’t imagine being parted from her child, but the thought of Natalya as a mother occupied her as she squatted over the birthing stool and pushed. And pushed. And pushed again, screaming, until a great gush issued forth and her shrieks were joined by a small, shrill cry.

Sorcha expertly wiped and dried the babe, then handed her to Chima while she attended to the rest of what Harriette had to expel.

Harriette obeyed, her eyes on the tiny form as Chima cleaned her mouth, ears, and eyes.

It annoyed her that others got to hold her child before she did, but then again, she had the rest of her life with this child. She hoped.

“Is it—is it—” Her voice was strangled. “For heaven’s sake, unwrap it so I can see !”

“A girl, Hari,” Aunt Calenberg said. Her eyes were damp as she led Harriette to a chair. Sorcha carried away the bowl of afterbirth, and Chima, as if she had assisted at a hundred births, pinched the cord and snipped it. Then she handed the bundle to Harriette.

With trembling hands she took her babe. The tiny head was covered in a fierce mop of black hair, the tiny eyes twisted closed.

Harriette’s fingers shook as she laid the bundle on her lap and unwrapped it.

Four perfect limbs, a straight little back and bottom.

Ten fingers, ten toes. Everything was there.

“She’s perfect.” Harriette could barely breathe.

The child squinched up her face and howled. Harriette’s sound was part laugh, part cry. “She’s loud .”

Ren burst into the room and lurched toward her. He was too heedless to care about his limp, only that he reached them quickly. Harriette cradled the tiny neck and bottom and held up their child for inspection.

“A girl, my darling,” she said. “Isn’t she amazing?”

Ren dropped to his knees, his face ablaze. “She’s right,” he said hoarsely. “She’s—she’s not?—”

“She’s perfect,” Harriette said again.

He took Harriette’s head in both hands and kissed her, fiercely, deeply. “A future duchess for Lowenburg,” he said. “Well done, my love.”

“We’ll have a boy for Renwick next time,” Harriette said.

“Can we have twelve? I want a round dozen.” Ren’s eyes were soft and full of wonder, yet there was something so fierce on his face as he looked at their daughter, then at Harriette. “That is, if you?—”

“Day by day, my love,” Harriette said. “One miracle at a time.”

He kissed her again, and she forgot anyone else was in the room. This was the heart of her world, here in her arms, these two people.

“You’ve fixed everything,” he said into her neck. “Thank you.”

“Oh, hush,” said Harriette, and to her great astonishment, she began to cry. “I did nothing.”

“You’ve made everything right. For me, for this child—all of it. Rhette, are you crying?”

“You finally did it, you great oaf,” she sobbed. “I’ve never cried in my life, but now—I’m so happy —I might never stop.”

“There it is,” Ren teased. “A hysterical woman. I knew there was one in there all along.”

“Oh, hush,” Harriette told him, sniffling, and she kissed him through her tears, and he kissed her, and then they both covered with kisses their tiny daughter, the duchess-to-be, who squinched up her face again and made clear what she thought of this family, these parents, this strange and astonishing world, and that she demanded to know where within it she might find her first meal.