toward the physician as he approached us.
“There’s no way to be certain,” Dr. Fenwick began to explain in a low voice. “But I suspect that the placenta is separatin’ from Lady Cromarty’s uterus. It would explain the pain she’s feelin’ and her bleedin’.”
My stomach dropped sharply. “That sounds serious,” I murmured.
“It is.” His eyes were earnest behind his spectacles. “But the bleedin’ was relatively minor and has stopped for the time bein’. I’ve given Lady Cromarty some laudanum to help wi’ the pain, and explained to her that she must remain in bed for the remainder of her confinement. Too much movement could tear the placenta irreparably.”
“And if she doesn’t?” The question had to be asked, though Philip stiffened beside me.
“She could hemorrhage.”
Which would almost certainly result in her death and perhaps that of the infant.
I nodded, glancing at Alana where she lay with her eyes closed. Her face looked dreadfully pale against the plum counterpane.
Dr. Fenwick followed my gaze. “Should she begin to bleed again, send for me immediately, but beyond that I’m afraid all that can be done is to keep her still, and calm, and comfortable. If so, the placenta may reattach itself.”
“Thank you,” Philip said, finally speaking up. His voice was tight with strain.
The physician gathered up his things, placing them in his satchel. I turned to look at Philip, but his gaze remained fixed on his wife’s prone form. I thought maybe he would go to her, but his feet remained rooted to the spot.
“If there are no more questions . . .” Dr. Fenwick glanced at each of us.
Philip surged toward the door to Alana’s room. “I’ll show you out.”
I frowned after him in confusion. It was not like my brother-in-law to abandon my sister when she needed him most. He had always stood steadfastly beside her, in sickness and in grief. He was the shining example of constancy and dependability. So why now did he always seem so eager to escape her presence?
I knew he had a seat in Parliament and estate matters to attend to, but more and more often of late that had been the dismal excuse for his absence, either closeting himself in his study or attending dinners about Edinburgh. In the past Alana had accompanied him, but since she had been restricted to the house, she no longer could. I wondered if Philip truly needed to be present at all of those events or if they were just another pretext for avoiding his wife’s company.
I caught Jenny’s eye, recognizing the same uneasiness furrowing her brow that I felt. Pushing it aside for the moment, I drew a chair up to Alana’s bedside and reached out to clasp her hand in mine. She squeezed it lightly, letting me know she was aware I was there.
“Go to sleep, dearest,” I crooned. “I’ll be here when you wake.”
• • •
I moaned as I sank down on the seat in front of my dressing table later that evening. My temples throbbed with worry for my sister and my neck ached from when I’d fallen asleep in an awkward position in the chair in her room earlier. I reached up to rub the spot where it still twinged every time I turned my head to the left.
“Here, m’lady.”
I opened my eyes and sighed in relief. “Oh, Bree, you’re a gem.” I took the cup of willow bark tea my maid held out to me and drank it. I was in so much pain I almost didn’t mind the musty aroma, though the bitter aftertaste left something to be desired.
I watched her smile to herself in the reflection of the mirror as she folded my discarded shawl. “Nay. Just good at tellin’ when someone’s head is fit to split open. Canna blame ye wi’ all yer worries this week, what wi’ Lady Drummond dyin’ in front o’ ye like that, and then Lady Cromarty’s scare this morn.”
She was right. It had been a troubling few days.
“Do ye still plan to attend the ball at Inverleith House tomorrow evenin’?”
I stifled a curse. In all the
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