You may continue it downstairs. Now put the twins down, John. They need their sleep.’
There was no arguing with the woman; she was the kind who would order the Queen’s physician about and he would meekly obey, as he now did. But John turned in the doorway and suddenly rushed back to the two cribs standing side-by-side. The twins had indeed fallen asleep, their long dark lashes standing out against the fresh white pillowcases which cradled their heads. They were both black-haired — like their mother — but John thought he could see something of himself about their faces. But whoever they resembled, one fact stood out plainly — they were identical.
John leant over swiftly and kissed each baby on its downy cheek. ‘Hello, my son,’ he said to one after the other, then he straightened up and joined Lady Sidmouth and the doctor as they made their way downstairs.
During the conversation over a glass of sherry, when he could speak to Dr William Hunter frankly — Lady Sidmouth having bustled off somewhere — John was told the entire story of Elizabeth’s travail. It seemed that she had gone to take tea with Lady Sidmouth and the mysterious dark waters of the womb had ruptured, at which her hostess had ordered her to bed and refused to let her travel another step.
‘But how did you come into it, Sir? Are you of Lady Sidmouth’s acquaintance?’
‘No, but my brother is.’
‘John Hunter, the renowned surgeon?’
‘The same. He has a small country estate not far away — it was left to him by our uncle and John often asks me down for a short break in my routine. Well, a servant of Lady Sidmouth’s arrived at his house and explained the situation. Said that the labour was growing difficult, the midwife suspecting there might be a breach presentation. Naturally, I attended at once, and after an examination believed there could well be twins. So, somewhat reluctantly I might add but in view of the mother’s age, I performed a Caesarian and out came your two little boys. But I stitched Lady Elizabeth’s abdomen back with the greatest care, Mr Rawlings, I can assure you of that.’
‘How has she taken all this? Will she really recover?’
Dr Hunter took a small sip of sherry and allowed himself a smile. ‘She is one of the strongest women I have ever come across, Sir. She has a body like 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.’
‘If you have no objection I would like to give her a decoction of Feverfew.’
‘You have some on you?’
‘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.’
‘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.
‘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.
‘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.
‘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.
‘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.
‘You’re feeding them yourself,’ he said, delighted.
‘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.’
‘You are a miraculous being,’ he said in amazement, watching his two sons taking milk contentedly.
‘And you,’ she answered, ‘though closely resembling an oversized lime, are a genuinely nice man. Now be off with you. Leave me in peace with my sons.’
‘Any ideas on names?’ asked John from the doorway.
‘I thought perhaps Jasper and James. Do you like those?’
The Apothecary repeated them under his breath, looked at the two tiny boys, then said, ‘I can’t think of anything nicer.’
Lady Sidmouth would not hear of him going back to Elizabeth’s mansion that night, and so he not only was invited to dine with them but offered a small guest room into the bargain. He had wanted to see Elizabeth again but was told that she slept once more, but he was allowed another quick peek at his sons before they were put down for the night.
Observing them closely he noticed that even at this early age they were totally the same. Both dark-haired, their eyes still baby-blue, they nonetheless had noses that were destined to be strong and lips that were going to be passionate. At least that is what John told himself fondly as he observed their tiny little hands, kissed their minute feet and tickled them under their wobbly infant chins. So he was in the first throes of delightful fatherhood as he made his way downstairs, only to be halted by the sound of muffled giggling. He turned to see who it was and cast his eyes on two young women he had met before, namely Lady Sidmouth’s daughter Felicity and her cousin, Miranda Tremayne. Knowing that he was the object of their derision, presumably because of the hideous colour of his clothes, John gave them a florid bow.
‘Good evening, ladies. I trust I find you well.’
They bobbed brief curtsies that suggested he was hardly worth the courtesy. Then Miranda spoke.
‘Good evening, Mr Rawlings. I have remembered the name correctly, have I not? La, what a flutter with the house full of babies. How do you like your little bast- I mean your sons?’
‘I like them very well,’ John answered evenly.
Miranda continued, ‘We were saying how well Lady Elizabeth looks despite her ordeal. We think it is nothing short of a miracle at her age.’
She had made this kind of remark once before, at Lady Sidmouth’s summer ball to be precise, and John felt his fury grow. ‘Elizabeth is a remarkable woman,’ he said, ‘and has been through many ordeals to become the person she is today.’
There was another muffled giggle and he realized that his answer could have been taken two ways.
