Authors: Juliette Waldron
"I shall tell your husband what I
think, Lady. And you, my poor darling, are going to have to endure even more
confinement. The more you stay off your feet and rest, the longer they'll stay
inside, where they need to be. Twins are always born early and small. We'll
need to have a several women in milk ready to help you. We don't want to take
any chances." As she went bustling away, Caterina subsided into the
pillows with a groan.
What a wearying and tedious affair this
baby business was! Nature, she thought, gazing at the naughty frolicking bed
curtains, had set enticing bait to lure womankind into this trap.
* * *
"And now for the names,"
Christoph said softly. "I've an idea, but I especially want you to name
this little beauty of ours."
"Oh, no.
You should be the one to name them."
She didn't want to hurt him, to have him
think that she would use these wonderful new creatures they'd made to hurt him
again. Right now, she was exhausted, not only from her recent ordeal, but from
the whole pregnancy. She had spent the last two months in grumpy and restless
confinement.
Today she had pushed out not one, but two,
small lively babies. The first was a girl, bald and pink. The second, born
about an hour later, was a boy with ragged dark hair like a tiny troll, the
long-awaited male heir.
"Darling Cat," her husband
whispered, lips against her hair, "you never do anything by halves, do
you, sweetheart?" His face shone with pride.
Both babies were small, but both were born
loudly squalling, appearing more angry than distressed by the perilous journey
they'd just made into the world. The labor hadn't been long, either for a first
child or a twinning, only eleven hours from start to finish. Trudchen set all
this good luck down to Grafin von Hagen's youth and strength.
"I've thought of names, of course,
but, oh, I can't—I don't want to—"
Caterina's voice trailed away. She'd slept
some, but she was still hurting. Three kinds of nasty brews had been forced
upon her, things to shrink the womb, things to dull her pain, things to make
milk. She felt dopey and drowsy, not up to saying that she wanted her daughter
to be named 'Wilhelmina.' She was afraid the request would hurt Christoph, hurt
him at a time when they should both be so happy.
Her husband, however, was joyfully
determined to have the naming done.
"It seems to me that a proper name for
a child is one that both husband and wife agree upon." He leaned close and
kissed her forehead tenderly.
"If this beauty's mama won't say what
she wants, I will offer a suggestion."
They'd tried to send him away during the
birth, but he'd stayed. "You stay with your horses," he'd whispered
against her cheek, "and I stay with you." He'd held Caterina against
his chest while she'd struggled to push the babies out. He'd supported her
while Trudchen and the others had busied themselves with afterbirth, with the
cutting of cords and swaddling.
"What do you say to 'Wilhelmina'? We
can call her 'Mina,' and it might be some restitution for a debt of love I
owe."
Cat clung to his hand, so strong, which
always touched her with such tenderness. It was hard to reply.
"I wanted that," she whispered at
last, "but I didn't want to hurt you."
* * *
Four months later, on an autumn Sunday, in
the little church
of Heldenruhe, with
everyone for miles around crowding to peer in the windows at the gentry, the
twins were formally christened. The babies were well and lively, gaining weight
in a gratifying fashion. They were suckled almost completely by their
determined mother, although there was no shortage of peasant woman offering
help. Mothers from every nearby farm had come to the big house to offer their
milk, "to help their dear brave mistress raise those two angels the
Blessed Mother has sent."
The girl was christened
"Wilhelmina" for Caterina's sister and "Brigitte" for that
staunch protector of Tanucci women. The boy was to be "Rupert
Wilhelm" for his grandfathers. Caterina had insisted that
"Goran" should be the boy's third name, in honor of the brave man who
had died fighting at her side. Not even her father objected.
Both babies had blue eyes, although
Rupert's were a slate gray.
A shocking
scarlet fuzz
had just begun to cover Mina's bald head, while Rupert's funny birth hair had
been quickly replaced by a luxurious chestnut thatch. Trudchen had observed
that this was typical. Baby boys, she said—for the first year anyway—always had
more hair and better eyelashes, too."
After the ceremony, a celebration was held
at the mansion. The proud grandparents on both sides had made a long journey in
order to see this, the fruition of all their hopes.
* * *
Caterina discreetly tucked Mina inside her
gown to nurse. Feeling the tug and the responsive let down, knowing she was
nourishing her child, that every day her darling was growing, Cat felt a
tremendous pride and pleasure, greater than she could have ever imagined.
She was tired but happy. Nevertheless all
things sad—and all things beautiful—brought her to tears. Trudchen and her mama
agreed it was nursing that made it so, that in time she would be herself again,
but Caterina knew in her heart that she'd softened. The pride she saw in every
face made her so happy.
"Brave as a woman is brave." Her
Mother had said it, and now Caterina thought she genuinely understood.
"I feel like a dairy cow," Cat
had complained. "All I do is sleep and feed babies and then eat and feed
babies."
"Well, you could use your nurses
more," said Lady von Velsen. "I understand that every woman in milk
around has offered to share with you. It's wonderful you're so loved."
"I don't mean to grumble, Mama. It's
just queer to be so confined."
"New babies are like nestlings, my
love. You feed and feed and feed, and suddenly, before you realize what's
happened, they've grown wings and flown away." Lady von Velsen studied her
tall daughter and sighed.
"I really don't think nurses should
have them more than I do. Taking an animal away from its mother is the surest
way I know to kill it, and I don't see why people should be any
different." Caterina was resigned. "A nurse may help, but Mina and
Rupert shall drink my milk as much as possible."
* * *
The night following the christening,
propped up in bed, the downy head of Mina Brigitte warmly resting for the
umpteenth time against her mother's full breast, Caterina's eye was caught by a
red flicker coming through the north window. Sliding out of bed, she hoped not
to wake her husband, whose muscular form stretched, like a sleeping panther, on
the far side. Neither of them was getting much rest these days.
As she passed the wide cradle the twins
shared, she saw Rupert Wilhelm Goran—a grunting, wriggling lump—who was well on
his way to soiling his napkin and thereby waking himself up. From the other
side of the door where the wet nurse and her infant were, for the moment,
sleeping, there came no sound. Privacy, like a night without many, many
interruptions, was a thing of the barely remembered past.
Hugging sweet-smelling Mina close, Cat went
to the window. There was a huge fire blazing, high up on the shoulder of
Heldenberg. All those secret worshipers, Cat knew with sudden certainty, were
celebrating with their lord and lady, celebrating the christening of Graf and
Grafin von Hagen's miraculous twins.
The End
About The Author
“Not all who wander are lost.” Juliette
Waldron earned a B. A. in English, but has worked at jobs ranging from artist’s
model to brokerage. Twenty years ago, after raising her children, she dropped
out of 9-5 and began to researching her way into The Past. Three of the
resulting thirteen historical novels are now published. Mozart’s Wife won the
1st Independent e-Book Award. Genesee won the
2003 Epic Award for Best Historical. She enjoys putting what she has learned
about people, places, and relationships into her stories.
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