The Miss Education of Dr. Exeter

America, who was beginning to puff again. “Miss Jones, I leave you in capable hands.” He nodded to his henchmen. “Make every effort to provide Miss Chadwick with whatever she needs.” The moment the iron door slammed shut, Mia dressed in a hurry.

Prospero knows he’s headed into a trap. Her heart fluttered with fear and, oddly, relief—for everyone concerned. Ping was a powerful jinni. He and Tim Noggy would capture the wizard—put a stop this madness—finally get some answers. And the Moonstone, under Phaeton’s direction, would restore Gaspar and repair the unraveling worlds of the Outremer.

Mia settled beside America and listened to the man inside her head, who described a huge hairy bloke, a troll, who had begun to move the larger stones and rubble away. Patience, Mia, I shall not be long.

America read her expression. “It is Exeter—you are experiencing thought transference.”

Mia nodded. Tell me what to do.

All right then. Having a child is the most natural thing in the world. Reassure America that I am here and will assist you both.

Mia sat upright. “Assist us?” Exeter, I don’t think I can do this.

Actually, you have very little to do. America does the hard work. His thoughts were labored, and still he found the strength to tease her—ease her worry. One wrong breath and he could die. Mia, you can do this. His whispered coax served to rally her nerves.

All right then, I’m no sissy-baby. She unbuttoned the sleeves of her gown and rolled them back. “Exeter wants me to tell you that he is here with us.”

How far apart are the contractions—in minutes and seconds? Very important, Mia.

“Does anyone have a timepiece?” She glanced up at Phaeton, who shook his head.

One of their guards took out his pocket watch.

“I need to know how long each pain lasts as well as the elapsed time between her contractions—do you understand, Tweez?”

“Weez not dunces, miss-is—and the name’s Dee,” the creature harrumphed.

Mia’s gaze moved from Tweez to Dee. “Oh dear, you must stop moving about or I shall never manage to keep you apart.”

Get America settled somewhere comfortable—angled in a reclining position.

Mia nodded. I padded a bench and there’s a clean sheet and pillows—it’s the best we can do.

Wash your hands well with soap and water. Mia poured warm water into a hand basin and scrubbed the way she’d seen the doctor clean his hands a thousand times before. Over the next hour he kept her busy with preparations. It was if he wanted to fill her brain with chores, so that she wouldn’t have time to be fearful.

Remove any uncomfortable clothing—along with her pantalettes.

Support America’s head and back with pillows, and have her lie on her side.

Periodically, Exeter would ask them to time a contraction. “How long?” Mia asked Dee.

“The pain lasted nearly one an’ thirty. With two and few between, miss-is.”

Mia relayed the times and waited for his reaction. There was a long pause. What is it?

She is already in the active labor. As he thought the words, she sensed curiosity in his tone. Ask her how long she has been feeling these pains.

It took Mia a while to drag it out of her, but America finally admitted she had felt twinges early in the afternoon. Good Christ. Mia, you’ll need to have a look at her cervix.

“I wanted to help find Phaeton. If I had said anything . . .” America’s lower lip formed a pout. “There would have been a change in plans.”

She was right, of course. And she would have been better off right now—they all would, Phaeton being the exception. Exeter would have remained at the hotel—to attend her. He wouldn’t be buried under a pile of rubble, near death.

Don’t say it, Mia—Phaeton, either.

Mia shot a warning glance at Phaeton, and shook her head. “Yes, well, we must all make the best of it now.” She followed Exeter’s every instruction to the letter, and he kept them coming nonstop. Occasionally, she allowed herself a moment to marvel. The way a woman’s body was so splendidly made for birthing. And how resilient America was, as well as brave.

At the time of delivery, she should lie on her back with her knees bent and spread apart.

I believe we can manage that. The bench America lay on was crude—but as wide as a cot.

Now, have America take deep, slow breaths, particularly during contractions.

Mia looked up at Phaeton, who was doing rather well for a first-time father. He sat in his cell, with his arms extended through the bars. At the start of a contraction he helped America sit up and crooned sweet words, encouraging her to push. Between pains, he rubbed her shoulders.

America’s limbs began to tremble—so much so, Mia had to hold onto her feet.

“Is that normal?” From out of the blue, a bit of panic appeared to grip Phaeton. “Honey, I’m not sure I’m cut out for—”

“There now, America.” Mia interrupted Phaeton’s moment of weakness. Wiping the brow of the mother, she turned to the expectant father. “Phaeton, the leg trembling is nothing to worry over.” Mia leaned closer to the cell bars and whispered. “Exeter insists that you not fret out loud—worries the mother.”

More than a bit dazed, Phaeton nodded. “Sorry.”

She wiped the perspiration off his brow with a cool cloth. “You’re both doing wonderfully well—chin up.” Mia winked at him.

“Ready to be a papa, Papa?” America smiled at Phaeton and he brought her hand to his lips. Mia smiled at the sight of Phaeton speechless, in awe of America, worried about their circumstances. He was going to be a wonderful father—protective, caring—who would have guessed?

She estimated the cervix opening for Exeter.

The baby is coming fast for a first child—be sure to keep massaging her perineum—we are going to try for no tearing, which means we will bring the baby out gently. And as if his comment wasn’t worrisome enough, Exeter let loose a litany of do not’s:

DO NOT allow America to push vigorously until you see her vagina bulging with the baby’s head. Pushing too early, before she is completely dilated, might tear the cervix.

DO NOT pull the child from the vagina.

DO NOT tug on the umbilical cord.

DO NOT cut the umbilical cord—wait for me. I promise I will be there shortly.

Exeter even had an order for America, which Mia passed along to the young mother: “DO NOT push between contractions.”

She breathed a sigh of relief when the head crowned during a contraction. Mia and Phaeton encouraged America to push. Have her take a deep breath, hold it, and push for a count of ten.

Until now she had not wished to unduly pressure Exeter. The man was trying to stay alive, while he guided her through the birth of a child. To say nothing of the distraction of being dug out of a pile of limestone. Mia inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. She had to ask.

When, Exeter?

Time to bring this baby into the world, love.

For the first time in hours, Exeter was able to move his legs. He rocked his toes and stretched his calf muscles to encourage circulation. There was one large slab of stone left on the pile. As soon as the troll lifted the rock off, he wanted to be able to run, not walk, to Prospero’s den.

He caught sight of the troll at work, hoisting the chunk of limestone off the significantly smaller heap of