So Rich a Crown

By Priscilla Paul

Three young women from three different parts of the world meet in Williamsburg, Virginia in the early 1700s and become best friends, eventually sharing their most precious secrets with one another. Although they were young when they met, all three had already lived adventures most women never experience in a lifetime. In those adventures of life, each woman finds herself with the burden of a secret that could cost her everything. Their lives, loves and children could be gone in the whisper of a secret. After years of devoted friendship, the women share their secrets with one another, promising to be the guardian of each others lives. Sarah shares her secret first...she is an escaped criminal from an English prison ship. Her crime...she stole some of the crown jewels. Christina tells of being an escaped member of the family of Peter the Great, Czar of all the Russias. Abbey, the young widow of a suicide victim, reveals that the father of her child is not the husband of her youth but a man she has long loved, Matthew Townsend. Although Matthew is himself a widower, years of rumors that Abbey killed his wife, and perhaps even his own mother, leaves him unable to respond to any gesture of love she makes towards him. Abbey knows, if Matthew finds out that she has kept his son away from him, for the boys entire life, he might contemplate killing her himself.

When Sarah is threatened by an outsider who knows who she is, she blackmails her best friends to keep her own secret safe. They pay her off, but she is soon found murdered. Abbey is arrested. Christina suddenly decides to go back to Europe and Matthew is to be Abbeys attorney charged with the responsibility of saving her life. As the story progresses, there are times when Abbey wonders if Matthew is out to save her or to hang her. She wonders if he knows her secret, and it appears that before Christina left she shared everyones secrets with Matthew, including Abbeys. Abbey also suspects its possible Christinas husband is the murderer. The trial reveals more secrets about the three women that they had not shared with one another and also reveals the secrets of yet another family which leads to the true killer.

All three women and their secrets are fully explored in this novel, giving each character the honor of center stage during lengthy portions of the novel. It is then brought together in the form of an exciting trial, where secrets pop up from the most unexpected places and persons. Enjoy!

You can visit Priscillas site at www.priscillapaul.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 17, 2000
• ISBN: 9781462806331

Priscilla Paul

A New England native, Priscilla Paul now resides in Memphis, Tennessee with her husband, Jerry, a pastor, and their two dogs, Christie and Gracie. So Rich a Crown is her first novel. She is currently working on her second novel, Blood Under the Bridge and making plans for a third novel involving her favorite hobby...genealogy. Being a Mayflower descendant encourages her bent to uncover family mysteries. This carries over into her writing and the who done it? aspect of her books.

Book preview

Prologue

JANUARY 30, 1747—WILLIAMSBURG,

VIRGINIA

Is the age of forty-seven too old to be alive? Or is it too young to die? Do I have a choice at this point? What choice does life give, anyway? Is death ever a choice? A choice born of a sad life, perhaps. Who knows? she thought as she pushed the window up and the black shutters outward. Jonathan made it his choice … suicide. What an ugly word. It left her a widow with a young son to raise. I wonder if he knew Hugh was not his son?

Hugh, the joy of her life, was now raising his own children and didn’t seem to need her anymore. But, she would always need him, and now more than ever. She glanced down the street, hoping to see his carriage. She hoped he would be on his way to her with news that might free her of this ridiculous charge. Murdering her friend … well her former friend, Sarah. Where is that boy?

The light from the searing orange flames blazed anew, growing brighter as she watched from her second floor bedroom window. A smoky haze filled the boarding room. Williamsburg’s Capitol Building was burning. The flickering light across her face revealed the signs of age … lines, cracks, crevices … each one now glittering with moisture as tears streamed down the mature, but still beautiful, face. He knows I’m waiting!

Several people were racing toward the roaring fire, while others who lived near the Capitol were running away from it, prized possessions in hand. If I had to leave this room, what would I take with me? she thought, looking about the room. What in this whole world do I have left? Nothing! she concluded. Sarah had blackmailed her out of every earthly possession, except her most important possession, Hugh. Abbey would do whatever necessary to keep her secret about Hugh’s father. Oh, if I had only kept this secret from Sarah!

Strong leather fire buckets were sloshed down one side of the fire brigade, each one filled and spilling over as it hobbled down the line of stalwart, full-grown men. Empty buckets were returned up the other side of the line as the younger boys passed the leather vessels back for a refill from wells behind several ordinaries and mercantiles close to the Capitol.

The brigade lined the center of dung-filled Main Street. What a stinking mess my life is in she whispered. All animal life in the area had been herded by frenzied housewives and children to shelter in the yard of the School of William and Mary. The frightened animals littered the road with their droppings, but in the confusion, a few misplaced steps here and there seemed of little consequence. My whole life has been spent stepping in the wrong place, she judged.

The dark room, sparse, but neatly furnished, took on an eerie glow as the burning building at the east end of Main Street fought for its life. Nothing could save it now. We must all die, she thought, peering intently as the orange flames leapt higher and higher. Even so, memories never die. Memories of a building, a town, a way of life. Memories of love. Especially memories of love. Her thoughts tumbled out, many of them covered with the dust of time. "Memories. Do we keep them alive or do they keep us alive?" she whispered to herself.

Christina had once told her, Within the attic of our mind lie our most precious possessions … memories, hopes and secrets. I’ve got lots of memories. Hope … well, I don’t know about that. Secrets … too many of those. Secrets, secrets, secrets.

CHAPTER ONE

ABBEY’S SECRET

THIRTY YEARS EARLIER—1717

WILLIAMSBURG

It was bitter cold that December. Snow made travel difficult, if not impossible. Early that year, Matthew Townsend had brought a beautiful young bride back with him from London when he returned to Williamsburg, Virginia, as a lawyer. Rachel McDonald was now his wife. His life was blessed and he knew it, sure that his mother in heaven had something to do with his finding Rachel again.

They had met as children before Matthew and his family left England and moved to Williamsburg. He didn’t intend to see her when he returned to England, but as fate sometimes has its way, they found each other at a local charity event and rekindled the spark that had been between them as children. Their first child was due any week now. Both were as excited as any young couple might be with their whole life stretched out ahead of them, a life promising much joy.

There was one flaw in their happy relationship … Abigail Barrett Courtland. Abbey had been Matthew’s sweetheart during his teen years and, according to the town gossips, she would do anything to get him back, even though she herself had married Jonathan Courtland and was carrying his child, due about the same time as Rachel’s child was due. Rachel questioned Matthew several times concerning his relationship with Abbey. Every time Matthew tried to assure her there was nothing between them, he ended up defending Abbey, which confused Rachel all the more. She loved Matthew with all of her heart but couldn’t feel secure in their marriage until she heard the truth from Abbey’s own mouth.

As foolish and immature as it was, considering their conditions, she sent a messenger with a note asking Abbey to meet her at the Townsend fishing cabin on the banks of the James River on the morning of December 12 th.

It was an old log cabin abandoned by colonists years before and claimed by old man Townsend for his fishing expeditions with his friends. They would go and spend days at a time fishing, eating and drinking.

The cabin was bare except for three wooden bunks covered with faded old quilts, a small pine table, and a stone fireplace. There were a couple of oil lamps on the rough-hewn mantle and one on the table. A big cast iron kettle hung in the stone fireplace and a few pieces of tinware were scattered over the ample hearth. Canvass covered the only window in the building. The oak door was stout and kept the whistling wind out, but at this time of the year, it would be freezing cold, even with a roaring fire pushing its hot breath out as fast as it could.

Rachel got to the cabin ahead of schedule. Matthew had left early for his office, choosing to walk the few blocks from his home to his law firm, leaving the carriage for Rachel, who had told him she was traveling to Yorktown and would be spending the afternoon with Julia Wynn, her best friend.

Like Rachel, Julia was an English girl who had been brought to Yorktown as the bride of her lawyer husband. The two had a lot in common and would spend entire afternoons comparing their new lives in this strange, new place where they now lived. They even looked alike: both petite blondes with blue eyes, large full lips on small heart-shaped faces, and were often mistaken for sisters.

Matthew strongly objected to Rachel traveling in her condition, especially since she was due in just a few weeks, a month at most.

Who’s the mother here? she protested, I know how I feel, and the ground has thawed enough to travel, but not enough to get stuck. I’ll be fine. She really didn’t feel fine. This baby was so heavy for her small body.

Matthew knew nothing about motherhood and took her word for it, giving in with a kiss on the top of her head as he left. Just do me one favor: spend the night and come back in the morning. I’m afraid you’ll leave too late this morning and be traveling at night. If anything happened to you, I would blame myself. Please, stay with the Wynns. You know they’ll insist, and so do I.

We’ll see, she said as she shut the door behind him.

The travel to the cabin wasn’t too bad at all. As soon as she arrived, she built a fire with wood left behind when someone had previously used the cabin. She shook the dust out of the quilts on the beds. It would be their only place to sit, except the floor, and she didn’t think either one of them could get down there or get back up, even if they did make it down.

It would be hard to confront this woman, but Rachel felt she had to do it. She wanted to fully enjoy the birth of this child with her precious husband, and didn’t want to wonder if this child would end up fatherless if Matthew and Abbey rekindled their young love.

Abbey arrived about an hour after Rachel did. She, too, had an easy journey to the secluded cabin. Getting out of her carriage was not as effortless. Rachel saw her and offered her hand to help her down. No thanks, Abbey said, and struggled to step off the foot rail, slipping and jarring her body as she hit the ground. She was all right, and Rachel didn’t offer to help her. The cold forced them to scurry into the cabin.

Rachel shut the door tight behind them, then turned and watched Abbey as she shed her wool cloak. Her beauty is striking, thought Rachel. Ebony hair and bright blue eyes on a face as pure and blemish-free as fine bone china. And she’s not put on near as much weight in her pregnancy as I have.

Abbey, too, was thinking as she looked around for a place to put her coat. She had not been to the cabin since she and Matthew were so young and, she thought, so deeply in love. They never did anything improper. Matthew was not the kind of young man to take advantage of a young, lovesick girl. But the cabin looked exactly like it did when they used to come here. It’s odd being here with his wife, she thought. So, what’s this strange meeting about? You really piqued my curiosity with your note. Abbey stared at Rachel. She’d never really been this close to Rachel and was startled by her loveliness. Her face seems soft and gentle, like an angel, Abbey thought.

Did you tell anyone we were meeting? Rachel asked.

No. You said not to in your note. I assume you did the same.

Yes. I have my reasons.

And Matthew? Does he know we are here?

No, and I don’t ever want him to know, but I guess that will depend upon you. She motioned for Abbey to have a seat on one of the beds. Abbey took the one farthest from the door and closest to the warmth of the fireplace. Rachel sat on the bed opposite her. Neither was very comfortable. Both women, heavy with child, sank deeply into the ragged, quilt covered beds. So, how are you feeling, Abbey? Rachel asked.

About the same as you, I suspect. Abbey had determined to be civil, though she had a loathing in her heart for this woman.

How old are you? Rachel asked.

Seventeen. Abbey answered. And you?

The same.

Matthew implied you were older than me, Abbey said

I think he was speaking of maturity.

This wasn’t a good start, but Abbey chose to overlook it.

Well, just what is it you felt we needed to discuss in this desolate, cold place? Abbey quivered in the cold and got up and moved closer to the fireplace.

Matthew, Rachel said, matter-of-factly.

Abbey was astonished. You summoned me here to discuss Matthew? What about Matthew? Do you want all the details of our short-lived romance? Abbey was stunned. I’m called a bit of a wild woman, but this is a little too strange, even for me. You could have come to my house for tea or called me to yours. I don’t understand the need to meet in seclusion.

Rachel explained, I know what’s being said around town about you and Matthew. Some say you’re still in love with him and always will be. That you’re just waiting for me to get fat and lazy after three or four children, and you’ll use your wiles to get him away. Others say you aren’t waiting at all. That you’re already his mistress, and your husband doesn’t care because he has a mistress of his own.

Abbey roared with laughter, but she wasn’t surprised. She had been the object of the town’s gossip ever since Matthew’s mother had died mysteriously on her way home after being at Abbey’s father’s store. Some thought Abbey hated Mrs. Townsend because she didn’t approve of Matthew seeing Abbey. The doctor thought she died from falling and hitting her head on a rock, but others said the rock hit her head before she hit the ground, meaning somebody killed her.

As for Jonathan having a mistress, it might be true, but Abbey couldn’t fathom any man married to her even looking at another woman. She dismissed it as unfounded gossip. You can’t believe the biddies in this town! she laughed.

Rachel continued, Well, I simply do not want any of the gossips to know we have met. This is between you and me. No matter what happens, no matter what is said, this is between us. Okay?

Okay, Abbey answered, not sure what she was getting into.

I want to know everything that has occurred between you and Matthew … ever. I know this sounds so possessive. I know this sounds like a big, fat, pregnant woman going crazy. Maybe it is, but whatever it is, I have this unquenchable desire to completely understand you in order to understand my husband. You were an important part of his life. Because you’re a woman and because you’re as big with child as I am, I hope you’ll indulge me. If there truly is nothing between the two of you, this shouldn’t be such an unreasonable request. She hoped she had made herself clear.

A blustering wind pushed the canvas tacked up to the window inward, spewing snow through the window. Struggling to lift a stone from the floor, Rachel placed it along the edge of the window, holding the bottom of the canvas in place.

It looks like it’ll be another snowy day, she said as she turned back to Abbey.

I can’t stay long, Abbey replied, especially if it’s snowing. My carriage doesn’t handle well on anything but dirt.

Just light snow. Nothing to worry about, Rachel assured her as she headed for the fireplace and the lanterns. With the canvas shut so tight, it seemed quite dark in the cabin. As she lit the lamps, Abbey spoke.

"I don’t really have any problem with your request. As a matter of fact, I have some curiosities of my own about you and Matthew, so I’ll make a deal with you that will perhaps serve both of us well. I’ll tell you about every minute I can remember with Matthew, and I’ll tell you all there is to tell about me, if you’ll reciprocate. When Matthew left Williamsburg to go to London, I expected him to come back and marry me. Naturally I’m quite interested in you as well." She looked Rachel in the eyes, confident she would decline. Abbey didn’t want to get too chummy with the woman that had stolen the love of her life.

Deal! came Rachel’s response.

The howling wind swirled the snow deeper.

CHAPTER TWO

As much as Abbey didn’t want to, a deal was a deal. Recounting everything she could remember about herself and Matthew and their short love story, she emphasized the fact that, although their love was cut short by his return to England and complicated by his mother’s death, nonetheless it was true love.

Abbey told of her patience waiting for Matthew’s return, anticipating the day she would be his bride. She admitted to innocently seeing a few other young men while Matthew was away, but was quick to point out that he had written to her saying that he was seeing other young women in England, but he never mentioned Rachel until the day he wrote to tell her they were married. Heartbreak, then anger, flushed over her face as she told about reaching out to the first man to come her way, who happened to be Jonathan Courtland, a fairly well-to-do young man whom her father thoroughly approved of and encouraged her to make him her catch, if she could. ‘If I could’ , my father said. I showed him. I didn’t waste any time either. We were married within a month of your marriage. Abbey was obviously pleased with herself. Rachel’s wide blue eyes were barely blinking as she listened.

A smug smirk crossed Abbey’s lips as she continued, enjoying the rapt attention of this, her enemy. She told Rachel that, truth be known, if Matthew were a free man, she’d free herself from her present husband, one way or the other, and attempt to rekindle the feelings they once had for one another. But, she lied, Matthew’s not a free man, and I’ll respect that, and in all honesty, my own husband, Jonathan, isn’t such a bad fellow.

She then proceeded to tell Rachel about her entire life, surprised by her own honesty concerning her personal life. She’d never

discussed herself at length with anyone, especially someone she thought she hated.

Rachel interrupted a few times, and they compared notes on the differences between growing up in England and growing up in Williamsburg. They broke out in laughter recounting funny things that had happened with Matthew. They obviously both loved him.

The morning slipped into the afternoon before either one realized they were hungry and perhaps had better get back home. Williamsburg was more than three miles away without a house or another cabin between. Both women felt a burden lifting from their shoulders. Perhaps Matthew has found the right wife for himself after all, Abbey thought.

Rachel sensed she had gained a new friend and a much better understanding of Matthew’s constant defense of Abbey. They really are just friends, that’s all, Rachel convinced herself. I can’t thank you enough, Abbey. I never thought the two of us could be friends, but now I don’t know why not. If it’s all right with you?

Abbey wasn’t sure what she felt, but thought it couldn’t hurt to be close to this woman. At least that will bring me closer to Matthew, she thought, just in case something unexpected happened. People die every day. Some fall out of love. They realize they love somebody else. Who knows? she mused, what opportunities await in the future. She didn’t have any idea what that might be, but if the opportunity ever presented itself, she wanted to be close to Matthew and ready to receive his love at all cost.

Rachel didn’t even wait for an answer before tears streamed down her face. Thank you for coming, she gushed. I’m so relieved that you’re not after my husband.

Abbey had always had a way of persuading people that what she said was the truth, but unfortunately for most folks, she thought truth meant doing whatever necessary to accommodate her needs and desires. She put her arms around Rachel. I’m really not the ogre I’m made out to be. The smirk returned.

Rachel looked gratefully into her face. "I know that now and I’m so relieved. That’s why I’m crying. Matthew and I will be

forever in your debt if you would consider yourself part of our family. You’re welcome in our home at any time. Who knows, perhaps our children will become best friends. We’ll teach the town gossips they can’t rule our lives with their evil tongues."

If you can stop the gossips, you’re a better woman than I am, Abbey laughed, opening the door to a blast of snow that took her breath away. She stepped gingerly to the door’s threshold, but couldn’t tell exactly where the threshold was. Snow blew in from a white drift in front of the door and completely covered any trace of the wooden step between the threshold and the frozen ground. Abbey missed the step and fell hard, landing squarely on a large snow-covered stone. Her scream would have been heard for two miles had there been another person been anywhere around. It was all Rachel could do to help Abbey up. Her own child stomped her belly as she bent over Abbey and pulled her to a standing position.

I’m wet! Abbey shrieked.

Of course you are. You just fell in this wet snow.

No! Not from the snow. I think it’s from the baby! Oh, God no! Not now. Not here. Please, I don’t want to have my baby here, she pleaded with a God she had barely ever acknowledged.

Let’s go back inside, Rachel insisted.

The women turned around, arm in arm, and re-entered the log cabin. Fortunately, they had not put out the fire in the fireplace, and the lamps were still lit. Rachel moved Abbey to the first cot, then decided they had better try to make it across the room to the bed closest to the fireplace. Wind blew through the door swirling snow all over the stone floor of the cabin. Quickly melting, it formed puddles over the uneven stones. Abbey dripped water all the way to the bed, then sunk down into it, grabbing her side as she sat. It’s moving, she said, I can feel pressure. Unbelievable pain. Maybe just a false alarm. Whew! It’s eased up a bit. She pulled a musty-smelling pillow from the top of the bed and pushed it under her head. I’m sorry if I gave you a scare. I think I’ll just rest a few minutes, I’ll be all right.

I’m not scared, Rachel lied, I’ll be right here with you. Just try to relax. Do you want me to unbundle you a little? Rachel noticed beads of perspiration on Abbey’s forehead. You look like you’re getting warm.

Please. I’m getting awfully warm. Strange in this cold weather to be so ungodly hot. She was feeling a bit nauseous. The odor of the musty pillow gagged her. Rachel helped her out of her cloak and scarves and wrapped them around the pillow to ward off the moldy scent.

Another pain struck. It’s now. I just know it, Abbey screeched and began crying. I’m so sorry, Rachel, I believe you are going to have to go for help. Get Jonathan. He’s supposed to be at his father’s plantation today. His mother will come.

Scurrying to the door, Rachel opened it a crack and looked out. I don’t think I can go anywhere. It’s getting dark, and the blasted snow is falling harder than ever. As soon as I get you comfortable, I’m going to try to walk to the river and pull a couple of buckets of water out before it freezes over again tonight. I’m also going to try to find some shelter for the horses. I’m afraid we’re spending the night, at least.

She finished undressing Abbey then dressed herself. She slipped out the door and eased her way over the step, then sliding sideways through the snow, headed down the embankment to the river. It wasn’t very far away, but in her condition, and with the snow coming down so hard she could barely see, it almost more than she could handle.

Cold air froze her lungs as she inhaled and bit at her nostrils as she exhaled. Lugging two wooden buckets, she timidly inched her way a few feet onto the ice. The river had completely frozen over days before. She pounded through a thick layer of ice, making a hole large enough to fit the buckets. She was freezing; her gloves were soaking wet. Snow covered every inch of her clothing and her hair.

Lifting the two buckets at once was too much. The child within her objected strenuously. She put one bucket down and settled for less water. I’ll come out again later, after I warm myself. They would need the second bucket, and she knew that by morning the river could be too frozen to get water again. Carefully, she inched her way back over the ice to the snow-packed river’s edge.

She looked up the hill toward the cabin, intending to walk up the same path she had come down. It’s gone! Frozen white flakes covered any trace of the path as if it had never existed.

She headed toward the light of the cabin, noticing a patch of pine trees of varying sizes appearing to form a natural lean-to. A perfect place for the horses, she thought. She stopped at the front door, pushing it open with all her might. Abbey lay on the bed writhing in pain.

Rachel! Rachel! I can’t do this! she screamed.

It’s a little late for that, Rachel responded with a weak smile as she deposited the bucket near the fire.

This is no laughing matter. I’m scared. Truly scared, Abbey cried.

I know. I’m sorry. Truth is I’m scared myself, not just for you. You don’t have any choice or any decision to make. You’re just going to have to do whatever comes naturally. I’m scared for me, too. I don’t know how much help I can be to you. I’ve never done this before. I’ve always been in the next room when any woman I knew gave birth. I don’t know whether to try to walk for help or to try and force the horses to drag me through the snow …

Oh, God! Abbey screamed, Oh Jonathan! Where are you when I need you? The pain is unbearable!

Rachel stayed with her through another hour of excruciating pain, then went back out to take the horses to the shelter she had found for them. She had to drag Abbey’s unwilling chestnut all the way. Pulling both horses, with black carriages in tow to the covering, she positioned the carriages at an angle forming a v shape in front of the lean-to, with both horses inside the covering. She thought about going back to the river for the other bucket but just didn’t have the strength. She returned to Abbey’s side. It had been almost three hours since Abbey had fallen in the doorway. I wonder how many more hours she can last? thought Rachel. I wonder how long I can last? Rachel’s baby continued to move around restlessly, causing great discomfort, but no real pain.

I’m tearing apart. It’s ripping me wide open. Rachel! Do something. Help! Abbey jerked her knees up and pulled her small slip up to her hips. This was no time for modesty. See if it’s coming. It must be. Do something! Ohhh, no! It hurts so much. She grabbed the rail of the bed over her head and felt the need to push as hard as she could. It didn’t do a bit of good. Rachel was looking, but couldn’t tell anything.

Abbey suddenly got quiet. Abbey, are you all right? Rachel was at Abbey’s head in a flash.

I’m exhausted, she whispered.

Rachel ripped a cloth from the bed covers, soaked it in water she had warmed in the fire, and placed it on Abbey’s round belly. Too hot, Abbey cried, get me some snow, ice cold snow.

Rachel responded quickly with some snow. Whatever it took, she would do her best to bring this child into the world as quickly as possible. Abbey licked the cold snow from Rachel’s hand.

Two more hours crept past. Rachel thought it was longer, but her timepiece confirmed … just two hours.

Abbey thought an eternity had gone by. There was no end to the pain and no limitation to the agony. As soon as she thought she had passed the worst possible pain, one ten times as anguishing hit her. Her strength was near an end. I’ll soon die, she thought. This child will be motherless. I hope Jonathan will be a good father. Thoughts of her child’s life under the care of her in-laws brought further agony. Her own parents were dead. Her father had passed away the year before. If it was a son, she intended to name him after her father, Hugh. If it was a girl, it would be Leanndra after her grandmother.

Rachel continued to look for any signs of the baby’s impending birth. Each time Abbey started a new pain, she insisted Rachel look again. About midnight, she started screaming continually. There was no break in the pain.

Now, Rachel, now! She pushed and pushed.

Rachel dropped to her knees before Abbey as she gave one final push. Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Rachel screamed, It’s here. It’s a boy, Abbey. It’s a son! Jonathan will be so proud of you, she cried, catching the baby as he slid into the world.

Abbey was crying, I did it! I really did it. Tears ran freely as Abbey lifted her head to see her newborn son.

What do I do now? Rachel asked.

About what? Abbey got scared again.

About this cord between you and him?

You have to cut it, of course.

How? I don’t have anything here to cut it with.

Run out to my carriage, Abbey answered, Jonathan always has knives and ropes in the back. Get the big knife. It’s new and will be clean.

Rachel laid the baby on Abbey’s belly, ran for the knife, and returned, cutting the cord clean with one quick slice, then tied it as close to the baby as she could. She lifted the slimy baby to the table where she had earlier prepared a bowl of warm water to wash him. He squalled, much to the joy of Abbey. Rachel wrapped him in her own shawl and placed him in Abbey’s waiting arms, watching as he quickly found his way to his first drink of his mother’s milk.

He’s beautiful, so beautiful.

He couldn’t help that! Rachel laughed, Look at his beautiful mother.

I’m sure I look just grand, don’t I, little Hugh? she cooed to her new son. She couldn’t help but think about her father as she said her son’s name. Your grandfather would be so proud to see you, my young man, she said. She still missed her father greatly. Her heart brimmed over with tears of joy as she looked at the life she had just brought forth. Her pain and suffering melted away. Her body actually felt good. Tired but good. All was right with the world. Soon mother and son were sound asleep.

Rachel left them together for an hour while she cleaned up the birthing area as best she could. She was tired, but so excited she