Read Online Death at the Wedding Feast by Deryn Lake - Free Book Online

steel caused by years of riding and exercise. She is not milk and sugar like many women today but more red wine and spice. We must wait to see if any infection sets in and then I think we can safely say that she will survive.’
    â€˜If you have no objection I would like to give her a decoction of Feverfew.’
    â€˜You have some on you?’
    â€˜No, but I can ride to Exeter tomorrow and have a mixture made up.’
    For the first time since their meeting Dr Hunter looked slightly superior. ‘If you think that it might do good, then by all means do so. It will do no harm at any rate.’
    John said nothing, thinking that it was to Dr Hunter’s skill and kindness that he owed the birth of his sons and the safe delivery of Elizabeth. His sons! The words suddenly struck him and he felt a broad smile cross his face. Those two angelic beings upstairs were his progeny, his blood, his bone.
    William Hunter saw him smile and said, ‘I am sure that you are very happy with the outcome.’
    â€˜I am indeed, Dr Hunter. And it is all thanks to you. I think you probably saved Elizabeth’s life – as well as that of my boys.’
    Again he grinned. Even saying ‘my boys’ gave him pleasure.
    â€˜Well, puerperal fever will appear tomorrow if it is going to appear at all. But be assured, Mr Rawlings, I washed my hands thoroughly in soap and water before I started to operate.’
    John knew that many doctors thought this an unnecessary precaution but it was one in which he fervently believed, having been taught by his old Master, Mr Purefoy, that in the future this would be the coming thing.
    Lady Sidmouth popped her head around the door. ‘Elizabeth is awake and is asking for you, Mr Rawlings.’
    He stood up, bowed to Dr Hunter and followed her upstairs to a room opposite the nursery. Opening the door, he thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight. The Marchesa sat propped against the pillows in a large bed, very modern, and obviously imported from France where the fashion was just gaining ground. Gone were the tester and the carved wooden poles supporting it. In its place was a large curving bedhead made of walnut adorned with floral garlands, draped ribbons, scrolling waves and acanthus leaves. Against all this splendour, pale, with her long black hair loose about the shoulders of her white nightgown, sat Elizabeth herself.
    John bowed so low that his hair swept the floor, then knelt beside the bed and took one of her long tapering hands in his.
    â€˜Oh my darling,’ was all he could think of saying.
    She looked at him and though he could see the lines of fatigue around her eyes, they still had the same sparkle in their depths.
    â€˜What on earth are you wearing?’ she said.
    John put his head on the counterpane and laughed. And in the laughter tears came until he was sobbing uncontrollably with joy at the successful birth of his gorgeous twin boys and the safe delivery of that most wonderful creature, the Marchesa di Lorenzi, clearly very much alive and no worse that he could see for the experience.
    There was a knock on the door and two maids came in, each carrying a baby in her arms.
    â€˜Your sons, Milady,’ said the older girl and bobbed a curtsey.
    John stood up and took the two bundles from them, then he held them out to their mother. ‘We made these,’ he said.
    She grinned at him and then put the babies to her breasts.
    â€˜You’re feeding them yourself,’ he said, delighted.
    â€˜Of course,’ she answered. ‘I read the paper by Carl Linnaeus and that convinced me it was by far the best way. Besides, it will slim my figure and I intend to go riding again soon.’
    â€˜You are a miraculous being,’ he said in amazement, watching his two sons taking milk contentedly.
    â€˜And you,’ she answered, ‘though closely resembling an oversized lime, are a genuinely nice man. Now be off with you. Leave me in