The Inconvenient Duchess

‘Master Marcus, thank the lord you come by.’
    ‘Whoa. Steven, what is the matter?’
    ‘Young Maggie. It’s her time. And the women folk are visitin’ elsewhere, but she’s come early.’
    ‘Maggie?’ He was clearly searching his mind to attach a face to the name. ‘Is with child?’
    ‘Aye, Master Marcus, my granddaughter. Her husband is dead these six months and both her parents away, too. It’s just me alone with her, and it’s not goin’ well at all.’
    ‘Maggie already a widow? She was but a girl when I left. I’ve been away too long,’ he muttered as he stepped down out of the carriage and helped his wife after him.
    ‘But you’re back now. Let us see what’s to be done.’
    From the tone of the screams, Miranda had a pretty good idea of how things were going before she was fully into the cottage.
    ‘You see,’ whispered Steven. ‘She’s been goin’ on like this for some time and I don’t know what to do.’
    ‘Leave me alone, you old fool. There’s naught for you to do now.’
    The red-faced girl in the bed had managed the words on one breath, and followed them with a long full-volumed wail. ‘Just a minute, Maggie, after I sort out the men, I’ll be there to help you.’ Miranda grabbed the duke and Steven by the arms and shoved them back out of the cottage, shutting the door behind them.
    ‘And who the hell are you?’ The volume was diminished, as Maggie reached a lull between contractions.
    ‘My name is Miranda, Maggie, and I’ve been at the side of many birthing beds. Now, let’s do what we can to make you more comfortable and then I’ll have a look at things.’
    In a few minutes, she broke away from the bedside to return to the men.
    ‘If there’s aught I can do to help,’ muttered Steven, ‘just say the word. I’ve been at many a foaling and a calving, and I’m right good with sheep, but I never seen or heard nothing like that before. Maggie was always such a meek and gentle girl. Not a cross word to anyone.’
    ‘If cattle could talk,’ she responded, ‘I expect they’d be much the same way. Why don’t you get up on the wagon, Steven, and his Grace will take you with him as he fetches the doctor.’
    ‘Doctor? Surely we won’t be needing…?’
    ‘It would be best, just to be safe.’ She gave him a gentle shove towards the carriage.
    Her husband looked down at her and ran a worried hand through his hair. He was white about the lips, she noticed, and looking nervously towards the house. ‘If it’s difficult…will she…? Perhaps we’d better… My wife…’ He reached out to touch her sleeve with an unsteady hand.
    His wife. Miranda’s heart swelled with pride at the words. ‘I’ll be all right.’
    And she looked into his eyes, which were haunted with sadness, and realised that he was not with her, but in the past, at the side of a different birthing.
    She gripped his arm and he focused again on her. ‘You needn’t be concerned. I’ve experience in these matters. She’s already through the worst of it and it’s simple from here, but it’s Maggie’s first. She doesn’t need her grandfather, or a special visit from the duke to ease her labour. She needs her women around her. If you can’t find those, then go to fetch the doctor, but take your sweet time in doing it. Just keep out of the way for a while and let nature do the rest.’ She glanced at Steven. ‘Sheep, indeed.’ And she went back into the cottage and slammed the door as Maggie began a fresh round of curses.
    Marcus looked after her in stunned relief. Of all the situations he was least able to deal with… He couldn’t bring himself to cross the threshold of the cottage again, much less be of use when he got there. And she seemed so unafraid of the outcome. Didn’t she know how it would be? He shook his head to clear the dots dancing before his eyes. ‘Come on, Steven. Let’s see if we can find your daughter, shall we?’
    ‘Aye, Master Marcus. But who’s the great lady we left with young Maggie?’
    ‘I have no idea,’ he muttered.
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘It’s my new duchess, Steven.’
    ‘Your mother, is it?’
    He sighed. Steven sometimes got confused about things. No wonder Maggie had been screaming. ‘No, Steven. I’m duke now; remember? And the fine lady with Maggie is my wife.’
    ‘Ah, yes. Congratulations, your Grace. But I thought the Lady Bethany was with child as well.’
    He was catching up, but still not in the present. ‘Not Bethany. That was ten