^^Above: English actor Toby Regbo (any Reign fans here?) as Dr Hugh Braithwaite.^^

Emmeline

Our son was born late May, 1787. I remembered sitting out in the garden with Tom and Mrs Shute, sorting out seeds as he sowed them in the beds, when he signalled his arrival. We were hoping for some vegetables this year, possibly to take to the market. Despite his best efforts, Tom's textile mill finally went under in March, losing money much faster than he'd anticipated. The night he got the news, he never even came up to bed. He sat in the drawing room, drinking himself into a stupor.

When the first cramps started coming, I had to stop my work. I straightened and rubbed my lower back, biting down on my lip. Mrs Shute noticed, making her look over at me with concern.

"Are you all right, love?"

"Just some cramps, Mrs Shute. I'm sure it's nothing." I took a deep breath, trying to control it as much as possible. I'd been having them for the past few months as my middle expanded, along with back and ankle aches. I never could have predicted that pregnancy would be this hard.

That statement proved to be untrue when another one hit, stronger and more painful this time, followed by a wet rushing sensation. I dropped the seeds I was holding, gripping the side of the cart with one hand and pressing the other against my swollen belly. Sweat broke out over my skin, turning my hold on the cart slippery.

"Milady!" Mrs Shute left her work as well, hurrying over to me.

"Don't," I hissed through clenched teeth, as a third wave ripped through me. At that point I was unsure of who I was talking to. "Wait...don't..."

She caught me as the pain made my knee buckle. I leaned on her as we hobbled up to the house, and it took all my energy to control my breathing. It was near impossible to walk — my limbs felt detached from my body, and my feet seemed to be hovering above the ground.

"Mrs Shute!" Tom came puffing up behind us. His eyes took in the scene, and he seemed to know immediately what was happening. "Emmeline! What can I do?"

"The doctor, milord," Mrs Shute answered for me. "Ride for the doctor. Quick as you can."

Tom went hurtling into the house, and by the time we made it to the stair landing, I heard Thor's hooves thundering down the drive. I was bent nearly double with the contractions now, my fingers digging so deeply into Mrs Shute's shoulder I knew there would be bruises.

In the time it took Mrs Shute to help me change and into bed, Tom was back with the doctor. I barely heard their voices as waves of pain crashed over me, filling my ears and roaring inside my head. In fact, I wasn't even aware of his entering the room, but the next thing I knew, his calm voice was telling me to breathe deeply. I tried, an honest effort. But all I could think of was the pain, shredding at my insides.

It was only after the ordeal was over that I noticed the holes I had ripped right into the bed, through the sheets and into the pallet beneath. But my mind blocked out most of it, and I returned to my senses when my son's first cries came to me. Mrs Shute gave him to me, swaddled in a white blanket and squirming, his tiny hands grabbing at the air. She was beaming, and only then did I feel it safe to breathe deeply.

"A beautiful baby boy he is, milady."

He batted at my chin with his fingers until I caught his hand with my own. As he grasped onto my finger tightly, I found the strength there surprising. His eyes were still closed, and his hair was just a few soft wisps beginning to dry.

"Emmeline?"

Tom's voice came from the doorway, and as our eyes met he smiled. His dark hair was wild, his shirt streaked with dirt, and his jaw rough with stubble. But all I saw was the joy in his eyes, pure and shining.

"Come meet your son," I said, my voice rasping past the roughness in my throat.

He crossed the room, pulled his boots off, and slid onto the bed next to me. I leaned against him as he combed my hair back from my temple and kissed it. Then he turned his attention to our son, gently stroking his head and the wisps of his hair.

"He's our son," Tom said, sounding barely able to believe it. "Our little boy."

I smiled and closed my eyes, relaxing against him but saying nothing. My body still ached, and I was so weak I felt I could sleep for a year. But the warmth of my husband behind me and the weight of my son in my arms diminished everything. Everything except for the feeling growing inside me. It was not simply pride, or love, or happiness. It was all of those and then some, a stinging warmth just on the right side of painful. Maybe it was because we were a family now, properly. Or it was something else. At the moment, it hardly mattered.

||

"Edward Francis Haywood, I baptise you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..."

I watched my son blink the water from his eyes as Reverend Paulson cupped a handful and poured it over his forehead. The tradition was really quite silly, but Tom told me that was what people did with newborn babies. And our Eddie was no different.

After the ceremony, with Lord Radford and Lady Violet flanking us, Tom looked over at me with an expression somewhere between confusion and realisation.

"What is it, Tom?" I adjusted Eddie in my arms, so the brim of my hat shielded his face from the sun.

"We will have been married a year exactly a month from this date," he said. "It seems so long ago."

"Time is peculiar that way," Lord Radford said. "So peculiar, in fact, that I cannot believe we will be doing this same thing come wintertime."

We both stopped in our tracks. I caught Lady Violet's elbow with my free hand, turning her around to face me again. She was flushed a bright pink, and a small flickering smile teased her mouth.

"That's wonderful!" I leaned forward, kissing both her cheeks. "Congratulations, truly."

"I have never really experienced motherhood," Lady Violet said, her expression sheepish. "Not even as a daughter."

"I think you'll be an excellent mother." I smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. "And perhaps we will have a few things to teach each other."

It was at the christening when we arrived home that we ran into none other than Charles Ashbury again. The question of why he was invited to such a thing immediately jumped to the forefront of my mind, but Tom had already moved off to greet the other guests. I held Eddie closer to me, as though that would be enough to protect him from Ashbury's glare.

"Your son is a handsome boy already, milady," he said, quite unexpectedly. Compliments were not something he gave out normally.

"Thank you, milord." I gave him a small smile and then dropped it to my son, blinking up at me with round, dark-blue eyes. "I think he looks like Tom. All except the eyes, of course."

"I know what your husband does, milady," Ashbury said, leaning in close. "And his efforts will be futile."

"And how would you know anything about that?" I leaned away from him in return. Tom had told me a few months ago, how he and Lord Radford were going to buy in on the smuggling operation. The advantage, he said, would be the ability to see and interact with both parties. Supposedly none of them would be the wiser this way.

"Raymond and I are quite close, did you know?" His eyebrow went up at my expression. "We talk fairly frequently."

Eddie squirmed in my arms, and I dandled him a few times. "How much has he told you?"

"Enough for me to know it will never work. What does he think he will accomplish by trying such a thing?" Ashbury gave me a smile, smug as could be. If I did not have a baby in my arms, I would have slapped it off.

"More than you ever could if you attempted the same," I said, and at that his jaw clenched. "My husband is a good man, milord. If it's one thing I trust, it's his intentions."

Ashbury seemed about to reply, but right at that moment Tom rejoined me.

"How are you faring, my love?" He kissed my cheek gently, and that was when he noticed Ashbury. "Lord Ashbury."

"Captain Haywood," Ashbury replied stiffly, and then turned on his heel and left.

"That poor man." Tom shook his head. "He is in need of a wife badly, to occupy his time. He spends far too much of it hovering around mine."

"He knows about what you and Lord Radford are doing," I said as he guided me through the crowd, to a clearer space near the door. "He tells me it won't work."

"As I said before, he is far too concerned with what people think of him. And of his close friends. It will not get him anywhere in the end, I promise you." He gave my forehead a kiss this time and then flicked his glass with a fingernail, raising it into the air. Once the murmur of voices died down, he spoke. "I thank everyone for being here today, on this joyous occasion. Our son was brought into the world a week ago, and he has since been christened Edward Francis Haywood. Once more, my thanks. And to Edward Francis, my son and heir."

There was an echo of Eddie's name around the room, and soon after Tom was stolen away again by Lord Radford. I took my place in the window seat, and instantly all the guests flocked around me, cooing at Eddie and congratulating me. Through it all, my mind was already racing ahead, to a fortnight from now. Tom was meeting a broker representing the smugglers, and although I was not worried about his ability to negotiate a price and wheedle his way in, I could not help but think that somehow, he would be double-crossed. Neutral ground was only neutral if neither party showed their hand. But something told me Tom did not think the same.

||

That fortnight passed all too quickly. While he did not directly say it, I could tell this impending meeting was as unsettling to Tom as it was to me. It was, however, difficult to have a private moment with him to tell him so. For one thing, when Eddie was not wanting to be fed or needing to be changed, he was clamouring constantly for my attention. Mrs Shute ended up making a sort of sling for him, so I could carry him close to my chest and keep my hands free at the same time.

Finally, on the night before his meeting, the opportunity presented itself. Eddie was curled into me, asleep, as we sat by the fire. Tom was opposite me, his chair turned towards the flames, hunched over with elbows on knees and a glass of brandy in his hands. His unruly dark hair fall forward, into his face. I had a powerful urge to brush it back.

"Tom," I said, quietly so I would not wake Eddie.

"Hm?" He tipped the glass and took a long drink.

"This meeting you have..." I bit down on my lower lip before continuing. "I'm worried someone will double-cross you. Ambush you, possibly."

He ran one hand over his face, his head dropping. "Emmeline..."

"So I cannot worry about you?" I felt a hot spark of irritation in my chest. Tom's self-imposed martyrdom tended to do that to me.

"No, I was not going to say that." He exhaled heavily. "Because of you, I have seen the price one pays for being reckless. And now that I have a wife and son to support, I will take every precaution. Which means I will be bringing not only myself, but others as well."

"Other Elementals?" I ventured.

"Yes. Ray has vetted the men already, and they are from trustworthy backgrounds. One of them, a Dr Hugh Braithwaite, newly down from London, was a surgeon in the war."

The fact that they even needed a doctor present only heightened my anxiety. "Is it that serious?"

"There is no way to know," he said, which made my stomach lurch. "We will not know, in fact, until we are faced with the broker, I'm afraid."

"I just don't want you hurt, Tom." There was a warm tickle on my cheek, and when I reached up to brush it away, my fingers came away wet. "I know you're doing what you have to do, but..."

"Emmeline." He set his glass aside as he stood up and came over to me. He took my head in both hands and kissed my hair gently, his breath warm against my scalp. "I will say this as many times as it takes for you to believe me. I will always find a way to come back to you."

"I know, Tom, but still..." I held his eyes as he lowered himself to cup my face, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

"I will come home to you, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Always."

I said nothing, only closed my eyes as he dropped his forehead to mine. I would do what it took to believe him, even if that meant attempting the impossible.

||

We treated the next day, until he had to leave, like any other. I heard him get up before me, going over to the bassinet and picking up Eddie with a squeak. He kissed the top of Eddie's head and then carried him to the window, standing there a while and looking out.

I didn't get up until they'd gone downstairs. Something inside of me was trying to convince me that perhaps if I didn't get out of bed, the day wouldn't start. But time always moved forward, no matter what we tried to do to make it stop.

We spent the hours after that outside. After Eddie was fed, and we had had our own breakfast, I wrapped him in his sling and joined Tom on the drive. As we walked into the rising sun, burning the mist away, I slid my hand through Tom's elbow and leaned my head against his arm.

There was a sudden clopping of hooves behind us, from many horses. We separated and looked down the road. Several soldiers, their coats a bright red, were approaching us. Tom and I stepped to opposite sides of the road as they passed us, the soldier in the lead turning to watch me as far as he could go.

"Why would the soldiers be here?" I asked as soon as they were gone. "Has something happened?"

"That is usually what would bring them here," Tom said, only his eyes moving in the direction they'd gone. "But I have heard nothing."

Tom departed soon after that, promising to be back tonight at the latest. I held on to the memory of him leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips, right before he kicked Thor into a gallop and disappeared. I tried my best to distract myself. After all, Eddie could never be apart from me except for when he slept. That, at the most, was two hours at a stretch. I filled that time by perfecting my letters. Besides, I'd been told in no fewer words by the matrons of society that a lady should always be bettering herself.

The sky began to darken right as Eddie woke from another two-hour nap. I lifted him out of his cradle and held him close. His fussing soon settled into the occasional squeak as he squirmed, attempting to get comfortable. I walked up and down the room, dandling him and letting him play with my fingers. He would catch one and suck on it, losing interest within a few seconds.

Tom was still not home by the time the clock in the hallway was chiming eight. Eddie was wriggling again, a sure sign that he was getting ready to fall asleep for the night. My stomach growled, but I paid no attention to it, even though I hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"You've been pacing all day, milady, won't you get off your feet?" said Mrs Shute, who'd undoubtedly noticed me wandering the halls with no particular direction. At times I'd noticed her, flitting along in my wake like a shadow.

"Tom said he would be back by tonight." I squinted at the darkness beyond the window.

"He will, milady, I'm sure. He's very reliable." She came up next to me and rubbed my arm. "Should I take the little Master Edward up to bed?"

"Yes, yes, of course." I let her take Eddie, but once she was gone, I kept on pacing the room, twisting my wedding band around my finger. When Tom and I were first married, I fiddled with it all the time, completely unused to wearing jewelry of any kind. Now, as I did the first time this had happened, I was doing it again.

Mrs Shute finally managed to persuade me to change for bed around half-past nine. But my nerves refused to settle, so after a half-hour of tossing and turning, I rose and went to the window. That was when I saw the torches coming down the road towards the house. As they got closer, I could see they were held by the soldiers we'd come across this morning.

I wrapped myself in my shawl and lit a candle. Just as I reached the bedroom door, I heard their pounding from the front. As quickly as I could go without my candle blowing out, I made my way downstairs and pulled one of the heavy front doors open just a crack. The same soldier that had been watching me as they'd passed was there, his powder-blue eyes glowing orange and gold in the firelight.

"What time do you call this?" I said, trying to sound as if I'd just woken up. "Who do you think you are, pounding on doors in the middle of the night?"

"Apologies, ma'm." The soldier gave me a shallow incline of his head. He had a thick scar on his cheek, pulling his lip into a permanent leer. "Is your master home?"

For a moment, I was thrown. "My...master? I have no master, sir."

"Surely you have a man in the house you answer to," he said, his thick brows knitting.

Now I knew what he meant. I drew myself up, affronted, and widened the crack in the door. Just to make a point, I made sure the firelight sparked off my ring. "Who would that be?"

He caught it. "Ma'm. Milady. Pardon me. Is your husband home?"

"No." I lifted my chin to him. "He has business in town overnight."

The soldier was momentarily speechless, clearly appalled. "Is there any man with you at all?"

"Certainly. The butler, Lucian." I raised one eyebrow. "And my son. He is only three weeks old, so do not expect him to be here at the moment. Whatever it is, you may speak to me about it."

"Very well." The soldier quickly hid the fact that he was flummoxed. "We're looking for smuggled goods, milady. Raided a house just last week with a whole store full of molasses. Under the floor, it was. Know anything about that, by chance?"

"No, nothing." Wisely I didn't mention Tom, or any of his dealings with smugglers.

"Your husband's never said anything about it? Seen anyone suspicious lately? Approached by anyone he didn't know?"

"No, actually, he hasn't. He's been trying to find another source of income, since the factory went under." I hoped that other source wasn't smuggling.

"Has he had any luck with that, ma'm?" The soldier's eyebrows went up.

"Not lately. But if you come back in a month, perhaps things will look different." I gave him a pleasant smile. "Is that all, gentlemen? A lady needs her beauty rest, you know."

"If you're the lady of the house, ma'm, I'll have no trouble revisiting." The soldier swept off his hat and gave me an exaggerated bow, in a sudden show of gallantry. "Lieutenant Stephen Lowell, at your service."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Lowell. Good night." I shut the door before he got a chance to answer, and leaned against it. It was only after I heard their boots clopping down the steps and the torchlight faded from the crack under the door that I sank to the ground, pulling my knees into my chest and resting my chin on them. They must have heard about the smuggling going on in these parts. That was the only clear reason for their being here.

When the floor got too cold, and my candle was snuffed out, I finally went back up to the bedroom. I checked on Eddie — still deeply asleep — and then climbed back under the covers. I stared up at the canopy for what seemed like hours. Mrs Shute had said Tom was reliable, and I believed her. But what if whoever he'd met with was not?

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, there was a clatter from the entrance hall that sent me springing bolt upright. It was still dark out, and the moon had disappeared behind a cloud. I heard men's voices, loud and urgent. That was woke Eddie, and he began wailing. Again I climbed from the bed and lifted him out of his bassinet, rocking him and soothing him. He quieted soon after, having found a strand of my loosened hair to suck on. I carried him from the room and down the hall towards the stairs, and the rumble of words began to take shape.

"Can you stop the bleeding?" Tom's voice said, and that was what sent worry slicing through my chest.

"I can, but we'll have to dig out the shell first," said a second, probably the doctor he'd mentioned. Hugh Something.

"Just do it, then." Tom's voice was tight, as if he were in pain.

I readjusted Eddie, supporting his bottom with one hand and pressing his face into my neck. I would keep him from seeing the blood if I could, but I had to see Tom straightaway.

They were in the drawing room, two men quickly building a fire in the fireplace while Tom and the doctor were kneeling on the floor in front of it. The doctor was helping Tom strip to the waist, and now I saw the blood. It soaked the entire left shoulder and arm of his shirt, and there was a tear where he'd been hit.

"Tom?" I said, making both men look up. "What happened?"

"Go back to bed, Emmeline," said Tom, his words short and clipped.

"Tom..." Eddie began to squirm, making it harder for me to hold him.

"Go, Emmeline." He hissed as his shirt peeled away from his wound. "I'll explain everything later."

"I'm sorry, ma'm," said the doctor as he got up and came to the door, catching it as though he were about to shut it in my face. He was quite young and handsome, something that surprised me even as it crossed my mind. "Milady. Doctor's orders."

Then he closed the door, shutting me out. I stood in the hall, trying to restrain myself from breaking it down and demanding they tell me this instant. A more reasonable, but considerably smaller part of me said it would do no good. For once, I made myself listen to it.

||

The next time I woke, it was light out. Eddie was asleep next to me, because he'd mewled and squirmed when I'd tried to put him back into his bassinet. So I'd taken him to bed with me, first placing him on my chest and then wrapping him in blankets and curling around him.

I rose and dressed quickly, making sure I didn't have to lace myself up in back. Then I scooped Eddie into my arms again and ventured downstairs. The young doctor was there, speaking to Lucian in a low monotone. He saw me first, his smile revealing brilliant white teeth.

"Milady! I apologise for not greeting you properly last night." He bowed to me, hands folded behind him. "Dr Hugh Braithwaite at your service."

"A pleasure, Dr Braithwaite. How does my husband fare?" Eddie squirmed again, and I readjusted him.

"Bit crabby, but on the mend," he said, tugging at his neckcloth. Clean and white, just like the rest of him. "He was just asking after you, I believe."

"Was he?" I had learned to deal with Tom's moods, especially at their lowest. And yet one misstep and his rage would come out in gale force.

Dr Braithwaite nodded, a strand of his wavy blond hair falling forward into his eyes. "Soon as you could, milady."

I thanked him and continued into the drawing room. Tom was slumped in an armchair, bandages crossing over his chest. His two-toned eyes smouldered as they followed me, and I felt his scowl before I saw it.

"You were shot last night," I said as I sat down across from him.

"I was," he said.

"What happened, Tom? I hardly slept all night, and then you come home the next morning covered in blood!" Eddie groaned at the anger in my voice.

"Things went bad, and he challenged me to a duel on the spot." Tom kept his eyes straight ahead. "I grazed his neck. I don't know if he survived."

"Then tell me, Tom. Tell me exactly what happened." I set my jaw when he scowled. "You won't be rid of me until you do."

Slowly and reluctantly, he did. He'd waited in the pub in the village with the others for three and a half hours before the broker showed. The man had brought support as well, and he recognised a few of them from the trip to Southampton. They talked it over relatively civilly for a while, Tom asking as an interested party and how long it would take to set up as a buyer. The broker told him he knew Tom was an Elemental, and goaded him by asking him if he'd sell his own kind down the river. Tom countered by saying that wasn't the point; the point was that he was interested in becoming a part of the supply chain. That didn't seem to satisfy the broker. He accused Tom of being a self-serving toff, just looking for a bit more extra money.

"I blacked out after that," he said, shaking his head. "Next thing I knew, Braithwaite was tapping me awake and asking if I hurt anywhere."

"Well, of course you did, you'd been shot!" I felt a spark in my chest, and against my will my hands started to heat up, as though I were holding them close to a fire.

"I was angry, Emmeline. Anger makes one do peculiar things."

"Does it, Tom?" Once more, I was on my feet. "What is it about you men? You must fire guns at one another to end an argument! How does that solve anything?"

"I was angry," he said again, his voice flat and emotionless. "Because he asked after you."

And all at once, my stomach dropped out of my heels.