Panting, Claudia lay back, exhausted in every way. A new emptiness filled her heart as she kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Do not look at him!
For a moment, silence fell over the room before soft wails echoed to Claudia’s ears. “It’s a boy,” the doctor exclaimed, lifting up the child.
Claudia pressed her lips together tightly against the quiver in her jaw, her hands curling into the mattress, holding on as though for dear life.
“Would you like to hold him?” the doctor asked, immediately stepping forward, holding the child up for her to see.
In that moment, two instincts collided. Self-preservation urged her to turn her head, to close her eyes, to not see while her mother’s heart pushed her to look upon her child, to hold him, to nurse him.
“Mary, will you take him?” Claudia’s mother said beside her, her voice filled with sorrow and regret, but also with understanding as her hand continued to hold her daughter’s. “You know what to do.”
With her gaze still fixed onto the ceiling, Claudia heard the maid’s quiet footsteps approach. She heard the soft rustling of clothes as the doctor lay the child into her arms. She heard Mary’s gentle voice as she whispered to the softly-wailing child.
In a moment, he would be gone. Mary would take him away, and he would be given to a good family. Claudia would never see him again, but he would be safe. She was doing the right thing. Do not look at him!
And then her head moved, and before Claudia knew what was happening, her eyes came to rest on her son’s little face.
He was perfect.
Heartbreakingly perfect.
His small round face was scrunched up in complaint as he waved his little fists. His mouth stood slightly open while his eyes were pinched shut. His skin shone warm and soft as the early morning sun reached in through the windows and touched him. For a split second, he opened his eyes as though looking for her, and Claudia could see that they shone in the same brilliant blue she had seen in her dreams.
And then Mary turned and walked away.
He was gone.
Only his soft wails still echoed to her ears, and Claudia turned away, burying her head in the pillows as her heart broke into a thousand pieces.
Aiden!
As her mind screamed his name, loud sobs tore from her throat, and she knew in that moment that she would forever grieve his loss. That her heart would never recover from this. That she would never feel whole again.
Aiden!
***
A fortnight later, Claudia found herself arriving in London.
Seated in their carriage, she glanced at the vibrant city, the Season in full swing and everyone noteworthy in town. Her eyes slid over the familiar streets and townhouses as they drew closer to their own, promising a moment of rest after this arduous journey.
Aware of her mother’s watchful eyes, Claudia schooled her features into an expression of mild interest and excitement. “It is truly wonderful to see other people again,” she remarked, her hands tense as they dug almost painfully into the strap of her reticule. “Not to insult your company, Mother, but I’m utterly relieved to be returned to civilisation.” A short chuckle escaped her throat as though she were truly amused.
“I still do not approve,” her mother objected, shaking her head as her hawk-like eyes continued to drill a hole into Claudia’s head as though she could unearth the truth if she only stared at her long enough. “You’ve only just given birth,” she whispered, her eyes darting sideways as though she feared to be overheard. “You need rest.”
Claudia swallowed, willing the ache in her heart to subside. However, it would not. “I’m not the kind of woman who enjoys solitude,” she said, forcing the corners of her mouth to remain up. “To be shut away in the country while all of London is full of excitement is torture. Quite frankly, I was and am bored out of my mind. But no longer!”
“But−”
“I’ve lost more than enough time this year,” Claudia interrupted, knowing that if she allowed her mother to speak, her kind words would eventually break her, turning her into a sobbing mess. “Half the Season is over, and I have yet to find any amusement. I want to shop and dance and−”
The carriage pulled to a halt, and Claudia’s eyes went to the tall, elegant townhouse where she had spent many happy moments. Would she ever be happy here again? Here or anywhere else?
As tears began to prick the back of her eyes, Claudia blinked her lids rapidly a few times before quickly stepping from the carriage. Movement helped, Claudia had come to realise. As long as she kept moving, as long as her mind was occupied, the pain was manageable. What she needed was a diversion…preferably for the rest of her life!
And so, Claudia had come to London, hoping to escape the pain she had waded through at Crestwood House. Every day after the loss of her son, she had spent crying, close to succumbing to despair. Never had she been the mothering type, and yet, this was her son. It felt as though a part of herself was missing. A part she would never get back.
Certain that she would lose her mind or die of a broken heart, Claudia had then decided to leave everything behind and return to the life she had had before.
The moment they stepped across the threshold, Claudia found her brother Richard and his new wife hastening toward them. Greetings and hugs were exchanged, and they soon found themselves seated in the drawing room, a cup of tea in their hands.
“I would never have expected to see you so soon,” her brother observed, his voice collected, almost cold. His eyes, however, searched hers with an almost desperate need to know that she was all right.
Once more willing the corners of her mouth up, Claudia smiled at him. “I’m fine,” she said, probably for the thousandth time since voicing her decision to return to town. “You know who I am. I was not made to be on my own. I need company.”
Holding her gaze, her brother nodded. His eyes softened, and the expression on his face seemed less tense.
Claudia breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that he believed her, reassured by her usual frankness and forthright manner. His wife, on the other hand, was a different matter.
As a doctor, Evelyn had a sixth sense for the truth, her keen eyes now gliding over Claudia in frank perusal and judging from the expression of concern that still showed on her face, she was all but convinced. And yet, she did not say a word.
Not now.
Not with Claudia’s mother and brother present.
But she would.
Later.
After tea, they rose to retire to their rooms for a short respite before supper. Claudia was relieved to be able to escape her family’s watchful eyes for a short while as their constant concern was exhausting. She smiled at her brother and Evelyn as she turned to the door, and it was then that, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a small, seemingly insignificant gesture that almost crushed her heart on the spot.
Speaking to her husband, Evelyn had absentmindedly brushed her hand over her midsection. It had been only a moment. Fleeting at best. And yet, it was something utterly familiar to Claudia.
To any woman who had carried a child.
Evelyn was expecting!
With her hands balled into fists, Claudia held on to her composure until the door to her bedchamber closed behind her. Then she all but fell onto her bed, burying her face in the pillows and allowed the pain to spill from her lips. Her body screamed in agony as her heart bled with the loss of her son the same as it had a fortnight ago.