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Authors: Irina Shapiro
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her forehead. She was warm, but not too hot, praise God. Frances said that she’d also felt fevered when the milk first began to come in, so this was normal.
Hugo left Neve to sleep and turned to the baby who was lying in a cot they’d found a few weeks ago in one of the attic bedrooms. It was lined with fresh linens, and the little girl who was swaddled tightly in a soft blanket was sleeping soundly. Now that no one was around, Hugo could finally drop the façade of calm and allow himself a moment of pure panic. He’d never expected to find Neve in labor when he came home tonight, and her screams terrified him as he ran up the stairs and into their bedroom. The baby was a few weeks early, but the fact that Doctor Durant was not in attendance was what frightened Hugo more. Doctor Durant was the most respected accoucheur in Paris, but that meant little if he couldn’t attend the birth. Hugo supposed it might have been worse had the doctor managed to attend and brought an infection with him which might have carried off both mother and child. Thank God for Archie and his quick thinking. Hugo had no doubt that had he and Frances not returned home in time, Archie would have managed to deliver the baby in the quiet, competent way he did everything.
Hugo returned to his chair by the fire and rested his head in his hands. He’d heard women in labor, but had never been present during a birth. His mind could hardly accept that a human being went through such unspeakable suffering to bring a child into the world. Neve’s agony had been indescribable, and he’d momentarily frozen, unable to think of what to do. Thank God for Frances, who seemed to know more than him, having given birth only a few months ago. Hugo had a new respect for the girl when he realized that she’d gone through the same torture only to lose her child in less than a day. How painful it must have been for her to see their baby and know that her Gabriel was lost to her forever, his grave miles away at a secret convent in the woods.
Hugo hadn’t realized that he was crying, but hot tears snaked down his cheeks. He wiped them away, angry with himself for being weak, but his heart thumped painfully, reminding him with every thud just how close he’d come to losing both Neve and the baby tonight, just as he nearly lost them less than six months ago when Neve had been carted off to Newgate Prison. He suddenly felt utterly exhausted and emotionally drained. Was there never going to be a time when everyone was just safe? Even now, anything could still happen. Countless babies died every day, as did their mothers who developed fevers and infections after the birth. He had to find a physician come morning and make sure that everything was progressing normally.
The baby began to fuss, making noises of discontent, and turning her head from side to side, her mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. Her eyes flew open as Hugo bent over the cot, gazing at her father in the dim light of the bedroom. Hugo carefully scooped up the child, remembering to support the head, and held her against him. Father and daughter stared at each other for a moment before Valentine filled her tiny lungs with air and let out a cry of protest. She kicked her legs and managed to work her arms out of the swaddling, shaking her little fists. Hugo held her tighter, suddenly afraid of dropping the infant. Were they all so feisty within hours of being born?
“Give her to me,” Neve called from the bed. “I think she must be hungry.”
Hugo eagerly surrendered the writhing, squirming bundle and watched as Neve put the baby to her breast. Valentine instantly quieted and began to suck, her cheeks puffing out like those of a chipmunk. Her eyes were closed in concentration, but she seemed to be content for the moment. Neve grimaced as the baby latched on, but bit back her gasp of pain.
“It hurts?” Hugo asked,
Hugo left Neve to sleep and turned to the baby who was lying in a cot they’d found a few weeks ago in one of the attic bedrooms. It was lined with fresh linens, and the little girl who was swaddled tightly in a soft blanket was sleeping soundly. Now that no one was around, Hugo could finally drop the façade of calm and allow himself a moment of pure panic. He’d never expected to find Neve in labor when he came home tonight, and her screams terrified him as he ran up the stairs and into their bedroom. The baby was a few weeks early, but the fact that Doctor Durant was not in attendance was what frightened Hugo more. Doctor Durant was the most respected accoucheur in Paris, but that meant little if he couldn’t attend the birth. Hugo supposed it might have been worse had the doctor managed to attend and brought an infection with him which might have carried off both mother and child. Thank God for Archie and his quick thinking. Hugo had no doubt that had he and Frances not returned home in time, Archie would have managed to deliver the baby in the quiet, competent way he did everything.
Hugo returned to his chair by the fire and rested his head in his hands. He’d heard women in labor, but had never been present during a birth. His mind could hardly accept that a human being went through such unspeakable suffering to bring a child into the world. Neve’s agony had been indescribable, and he’d momentarily frozen, unable to think of what to do. Thank God for Frances, who seemed to know more than him, having given birth only a few months ago. Hugo had a new respect for the girl when he realized that she’d gone through the same torture only to lose her child in less than a day. How painful it must have been for her to see their baby and know that her Gabriel was lost to her forever, his grave miles away at a secret convent in the woods.
Hugo hadn’t realized that he was crying, but hot tears snaked down his cheeks. He wiped them away, angry with himself for being weak, but his heart thumped painfully, reminding him with every thud just how close he’d come to losing both Neve and the baby tonight, just as he nearly lost them less than six months ago when Neve had been carted off to Newgate Prison. He suddenly felt utterly exhausted and emotionally drained. Was there never going to be a time when everyone was just safe? Even now, anything could still happen. Countless babies died every day, as did their mothers who developed fevers and infections after the birth. He had to find a physician come morning and make sure that everything was progressing normally.
The baby began to fuss, making noises of discontent, and turning her head from side to side, her mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. Her eyes flew open as Hugo bent over the cot, gazing at her father in the dim light of the bedroom. Hugo carefully scooped up the child, remembering to support the head, and held her against him. Father and daughter stared at each other for a moment before Valentine filled her tiny lungs with air and let out a cry of protest. She kicked her legs and managed to work her arms out of the swaddling, shaking her little fists. Hugo held her tighter, suddenly afraid of dropping the infant. Were they all so feisty within hours of being born?
“Give her to me,” Neve called from the bed. “I think she must be hungry.”
Hugo eagerly surrendered the writhing, squirming bundle and watched as Neve put the baby to her breast. Valentine instantly quieted and began to suck, her cheeks puffing out like those of a chipmunk. Her eyes were closed in concentration, but she seemed to be content for the moment. Neve grimaced as the baby latched on, but bit back her gasp of pain.
“It hurts?” Hugo asked,
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