Sing Sweet Nightingale
Abigail
With nine weeks left to go until the birth of her next child, Annebelle chose then to ignore the confinement that she would normally be shrouded in and make her way to her parish church. It was desolate, for it was not the Sabbath, but she found the solitude calming as she settled into one of the pews. Her outerwear was purposely big in an attempt a concealing her condition but as she sat down, she felt too suffocated beneath it.
She needed solace and guidance. Marguerite had returned with news that she had been dreading the most, and after the last excursion with their father, Adeline had returned with a bandage on her wrist. The wound hadn't been too big but the size was nothing to do with the fear and loathing she felt. How could her husband allow that to happen to their daughters? Was he even aware of it? She would have felt better if he wasn't but her rational mind told her it was otherwise.
"Lady Tremaine?" the pastor said, interrupted her peace. He was stood in the aisle a short distance away from her. "I was aware that you should not be out in your condition."
"I had to come, Father. I am in dire need of counsel."
"What troubles you?"
"I believe my husband has given in to dark temptations," she confessed, making the pastor take a seat next to her. "He has become consumed with the phenomenon of science."
The pastor's expression hardened at her words. "That explains why he has not attended service in the past weeks."
"I'm worried that he intends to steer our daughters away from God."
"As their mother, it is down to you to steer them right, but it will do you no good to worry while in this condition. If you still believe that he has become consumed by this phenomenon when it has passed, I can have a private word with him."
Annabelle sighed and placed a hand on her stomach. "Thank you, Father," she said.
"Would you like me to accompany you home?"
"Thank you for the offer but I must decline." Nevertheless, the Father helped her up from the pew and walked her out the church before bidding her goodbye.
While she had gained the clarity that she had needed, discovering that her husband hadn't been attending church was worrisome. They might have been estranged but his actions were sure to make people talk. With everything else that was occurring, she didn't want to have to also worry about their reputation.
Upon returning home, she got one of their staff to find the cross that had once been her mother's and then had it nailed above the bed in which she slept. She then stripped down to her slip, knelt at the foot-end of her bed and prayed.
She prayed for the safety of her daughters. She prayed for her husband to see sense. She prayed for this birth to not take her from the living. But most of all, she prayed that God would help her take care of her family the way she was supposed to.
When it was time for bed, she gave her daughters an extra hug as the following day she knew her husband would take them once more, and she had them kneel with her for a prayer before letting them climb into bed. She prayed once more in her own room before retiring for the night.
It was that night that she was awoken before dawn by pain and wetness between her legs. She tried to breathe through the pain, knowing that it was not quite ready for the child to be born, but just as dawn broke, she ended up crying out for help, alerting one of their staff who rushed into her room at her cries.
Towels were brought to her and a bowl of cold water was prepared as they waited on the physician to arrive. She called out for Marguerite and when the nurse reached her side, she brought her voice down to a whisper. "Fetch my husband," she said.
"He has already left, ma'am."
"Then go after him!" she screeched, a twinge of pain making her hunch over. The nurse rushed out of the room and a few moments later the physician arrived. Despite having to be delivered of two children the last time, this labour was not any easier for Annabelle. She sweated and cried and hunched over in pain many times. There were countless cool rags placed on her head but they did little to ease anything.
As the physician began to instruct her to push, the nurse entered the room once more and rushed over to her side, taking the hand that she was offering. She squeezed it tightly as she pushed, temporarily forgetting what she had sent the woman to do. All she focused on was the pain that was shuddering through her and the want to have this child enter the world.
Two hours after the physician's arrival, she was safely delivered of yet another baby girl. Still she felt no joy, only sorrow at the prospect of being unable to protect this innocent little child, so when the girl had been cleaned up, swaddled and offered to her, she declined to hold her with tears in her eyes. The girl was passed off to the same wet-nurse who had been there for her other two daughters and the physician left to allow her some time to rest. Marguerite remained in the room, however, and tentatively approached her.
"Your husband returned, ma'am," the woman told her.
Annabelle finally let a smile grace her features. "Thank you."
The woman looked pained. "He did not return with the girls."
Just like that, her pain and tiredness faded and she sat up in the bed. "What do you mean?" she exclaimed.
"They had just reached the town when I caught up with him, and he said he would be returning home immediately, but arrived by himself."
"He left our daughters alone?" she said in horror, throwing the covers back and attempting to leave the bed.
Marguerite stopped her. "You cannot get up!"
"I must. My poor girls!"
"You will bleed again, ma'am!"
That made Annabelle stop and her shoulders slump. "I need my daughter!"
The woman left the room as she settled back into the bed and returned shortly afterwards with the newborn, passing her over to her mother. Annabelle gazed down at the girl and a tear slid down her face. "Don't you worry, my little darling. Mama's going to protect you. Mama's not going to let your Daddy harm you or your sisters again," she whispered to the fussing child. "Nothing will ever harm you, my darling Abigail."
When her husband requested that he be allowed to enter the room to see both she and Abigail, she declined his request and held her daughter closer when she heard him raise his voice to the physician. It soon passed and she sat for the rest of the day with her daughter, only relinquishing her hold whenever the child needed feeding. She would keep this child away from her husband for however long she could.
The events of the day made her retire for the night before her daughters had returned, but that was an inevitable she could not avoid. She slept with Abigail in her cradle at the end of the bed and the wet-nurse slept on the settee for the times when the girl would stir in the night. Annabelle woke slightly after dawn, when Abigail woke for her first feed of the day. As it had just been one birth, she had been told by the physician that she should be able to get out of bed the following day, so as her daughter was nursing, she slowly slid out of her bed and pulled on her thin shawl before slowly walking out of her room and towards the girls' room.
She opened the door quietly and went over to Drucilla's bed, waking her eldest up first. The girl's happiness at seeing her mother was clouding by the ashen look that adorned her face. "What's the matter?" she said, fussing over her daughter. "Do you feel hot?"
The girl shook her head. "Daddy left us alone yesterday."
"I know, my darling. He will never be taking you there again, I promise."
"My leg hurts, Mama," she complained.
Annabelle drew back the covers and carefully inspected the girl's legs, horrified at the bruises that trailed up them. "What happened?"
"He wanted to see whether Adeline would feel it."
The girl's words horrified her mother and she pulled the girl into her arms tightly. "Oh my poor girl," she cried.
After making sure Drucilla was okay, she then moved over to the other bed and gently woke Adeline up. The girl's face was ashen like her twin's but Annabelle felt dread wash over her when she felt the girl's forehead was warm. "My sweet Adeline," she whispered, pulling back the covers and noticing a bandage on her other wrist.
"Mama, I don't feel well," the girl whined.
Annebelle turned to look at her eldest. "Go fetch Marguerite and tell her to fetch the physician, darling. Quickly!" she instructed, watching as the girl rushed out of the room before turning to look at her other twin. "All will be well, my darling. Mama will make everything okay."
When the girl returned to the room with the physician, his face dropped as he removed the new bandage. "It's infected," he exclaimed.
"Can you help her?"
He inspected the other bandage, the one she'd had for over a fortnight. "Dear God! This is infected with gangrene."
Marguerite guided both Annabelle and Drucilla from the room at the physician's behest and took them back to the room that Abigail was currently in. To take her mind off her twin's situation, Drucilla sat with her back against her mother and was allowed to hold her baby sister with some help. She babbled away about how she would help take care of the baby but Annabelle was barely listening. Her thoughts were with Adeline.
Three hours passed before the physician sent Drucilla off with Margurite and explained to Annabelle that the infection was too severe for any medicine that he had. All he could advise was that she be by Adeline's bedside up until the girl's final breath.
Annabelle had to watch her daughter die just over a day after she gave birth.
She needed solace and guidance. Marguerite had returned with news that she had been dreading the most, and after the last excursion with their father, Adeline had returned with a bandage on her wrist. The wound hadn't been too big but the size was nothing to do with the fear and loathing she felt. How could her husband allow that to happen to their daughters? Was he even aware of it? She would have felt better if he wasn't but her rational mind told her it was otherwise.
"Lady Tremaine?" the pastor said, interrupted her peace. He was stood in the aisle a short distance away from her. "I was aware that you should not be out in your condition."
"I had to come, Father. I am in dire need of counsel."
"What troubles you?"
"I believe my husband has given in to dark temptations," she confessed, making the pastor take a seat next to her. "He has become consumed with the phenomenon of science."
The pastor's expression hardened at her words. "That explains why he has not attended service in the past weeks."
"I'm worried that he intends to steer our daughters away from God."
"As their mother, it is down to you to steer them right, but it will do you no good to worry while in this condition. If you still believe that he has become consumed by this phenomenon when it has passed, I can have a private word with him."
Annabelle sighed and placed a hand on her stomach. "Thank you, Father," she said.
"Would you like me to accompany you home?"
"Thank you for the offer but I must decline." Nevertheless, the Father helped her up from the pew and walked her out the church before bidding her goodbye.
While she had gained the clarity that she had needed, discovering that her husband hadn't been attending church was worrisome. They might have been estranged but his actions were sure to make people talk. With everything else that was occurring, she didn't want to have to also worry about their reputation.
Upon returning home, she got one of their staff to find the cross that had once been her mother's and then had it nailed above the bed in which she slept. She then stripped down to her slip, knelt at the foot-end of her bed and prayed.
She prayed for the safety of her daughters. She prayed for her husband to see sense. She prayed for this birth to not take her from the living. But most of all, she prayed that God would help her take care of her family the way she was supposed to.
When it was time for bed, she gave her daughters an extra hug as the following day she knew her husband would take them once more, and she had them kneel with her for a prayer before letting them climb into bed. She prayed once more in her own room before retiring for the night.
It was that night that she was awoken before dawn by pain and wetness between her legs. She tried to breathe through the pain, knowing that it was not quite ready for the child to be born, but just as dawn broke, she ended up crying out for help, alerting one of their staff who rushed into her room at her cries.
Towels were brought to her and a bowl of cold water was prepared as they waited on the physician to arrive. She called out for Marguerite and when the nurse reached her side, she brought her voice down to a whisper. "Fetch my husband," she said.
"He has already left, ma'am."
"Then go after him!" she screeched, a twinge of pain making her hunch over. The nurse rushed out of the room and a few moments later the physician arrived. Despite having to be delivered of two children the last time, this labour was not any easier for Annabelle. She sweated and cried and hunched over in pain many times. There were countless cool rags placed on her head but they did little to ease anything.
As the physician began to instruct her to push, the nurse entered the room once more and rushed over to her side, taking the hand that she was offering. She squeezed it tightly as she pushed, temporarily forgetting what she had sent the woman to do. All she focused on was the pain that was shuddering through her and the want to have this child enter the world.
Two hours after the physician's arrival, she was safely delivered of yet another baby girl. Still she felt no joy, only sorrow at the prospect of being unable to protect this innocent little child, so when the girl had been cleaned up, swaddled and offered to her, she declined to hold her with tears in her eyes. The girl was passed off to the same wet-nurse who had been there for her other two daughters and the physician left to allow her some time to rest. Marguerite remained in the room, however, and tentatively approached her.
"Your husband returned, ma'am," the woman told her.
Annabelle finally let a smile grace her features. "Thank you."
The woman looked pained. "He did not return with the girls."
Just like that, her pain and tiredness faded and she sat up in the bed. "What do you mean?" she exclaimed.
"They had just reached the town when I caught up with him, and he said he would be returning home immediately, but arrived by himself."
"He left our daughters alone?" she said in horror, throwing the covers back and attempting to leave the bed.
Marguerite stopped her. "You cannot get up!"
"I must. My poor girls!"
"You will bleed again, ma'am!"
That made Annabelle stop and her shoulders slump. "I need my daughter!"
The woman left the room as she settled back into the bed and returned shortly afterwards with the newborn, passing her over to her mother. Annabelle gazed down at the girl and a tear slid down her face. "Don't you worry, my little darling. Mama's going to protect you. Mama's not going to let your Daddy harm you or your sisters again," she whispered to the fussing child. "Nothing will ever harm you, my darling Abigail."
When her husband requested that he be allowed to enter the room to see both she and Abigail, she declined his request and held her daughter closer when she heard him raise his voice to the physician. It soon passed and she sat for the rest of the day with her daughter, only relinquishing her hold whenever the child needed feeding. She would keep this child away from her husband for however long she could.
The events of the day made her retire for the night before her daughters had returned, but that was an inevitable she could not avoid. She slept with Abigail in her cradle at the end of the bed and the wet-nurse slept on the settee for the times when the girl would stir in the night. Annabelle woke slightly after dawn, when Abigail woke for her first feed of the day. As it had just been one birth, she had been told by the physician that she should be able to get out of bed the following day, so as her daughter was nursing, she slowly slid out of her bed and pulled on her thin shawl before slowly walking out of her room and towards the girls' room.
She opened the door quietly and went over to Drucilla's bed, waking her eldest up first. The girl's happiness at seeing her mother was clouding by the ashen look that adorned her face. "What's the matter?" she said, fussing over her daughter. "Do you feel hot?"
The girl shook her head. "Daddy left us alone yesterday."
"I know, my darling. He will never be taking you there again, I promise."
"My leg hurts, Mama," she complained.
Annabelle drew back the covers and carefully inspected the girl's legs, horrified at the bruises that trailed up them. "What happened?"
"He wanted to see whether Adeline would feel it."
The girl's words horrified her mother and she pulled the girl into her arms tightly. "Oh my poor girl," she cried.
After making sure Drucilla was okay, she then moved over to the other bed and gently woke Adeline up. The girl's face was ashen like her twin's but Annabelle felt dread wash over her when she felt the girl's forehead was warm. "My sweet Adeline," she whispered, pulling back the covers and noticing a bandage on her other wrist.
"Mama, I don't feel well," the girl whined.
Annebelle turned to look at her eldest. "Go fetch Marguerite and tell her to fetch the physician, darling. Quickly!" she instructed, watching as the girl rushed out of the room before turning to look at her other twin. "All will be well, my darling. Mama will make everything okay."
When the girl returned to the room with the physician, his face dropped as he removed the new bandage. "It's infected," he exclaimed.
"Can you help her?"
He inspected the other bandage, the one she'd had for over a fortnight. "Dear God! This is infected with gangrene."
Marguerite guided both Annabelle and Drucilla from the room at the physician's behest and took them back to the room that Abigail was currently in. To take her mind off her twin's situation, Drucilla sat with her back against her mother and was allowed to hold her baby sister with some help. She babbled away about how she would help take care of the baby but Annabelle was barely listening. Her thoughts were with Adeline.
Three hours passed before the physician sent Drucilla off with Margurite and explained to Annabelle that the infection was too severe for any medicine that he had. All he could advise was that she be by Adeline's bedside up until the girl's final breath.
Annabelle had to watch her daughter die just over a day after she gave birth.