Of Silk and Steam (18 page)

Leo followed suit. The rush of air past his body as he jerked to the top of the wall was exhilarating.

“’Ave fun?” Rip unscrewed his flask and handed it to him.

Leo drained it. Served the bastard right. “They’re completely insane. Think they’re invulnerable, both of them trying to outdo each other like it was a
fucking
game. Snatch the handler. All the rage in the streets of the rookery.”

Rip snorted. “Blade tells ’em they’re gonna give ’im gray ’airs.”

At least Leo wasn’t alone in this. “We got two of them,” he said gruffly, removing the control devices from the leather bag that was slung across his chest. “Where’d they go?”

“Out of reach, I’d imagine.” Rip eyed the control device Leo handed him, turning it this way and that. “Think you know what to do with this?”

“Not a clue,” Leo replied, examining the device in his own hands. “That’s why I brought back two of them. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’d best go see if Honoria wants to tinker with me.”

* * *

Honoria bit her lip, staring at the mess of springs and cogs in the back of the opened device. “I’m not entirely certain I know what to do, Leo. This is more akin to Lena’s work than mine.”

He knew his younger sister had great skill with clockwork toys and transformationals—which were all the rage after she’d created one for the Scandinavian verwulfen ambassadors—but it was difficult to imagine his pretty, fashion-plate sister manipulating the workings of the control device. Besides… “She’s not here. All we have are you and me.”

A shiver went through Honoria’s body and she paced, wincing a little as she chewed on her knuckle. A little out of character, he thought, though perhaps the state of the rookery’s affairs concerned her more than she’d let on.

“I understand how the device works and what each piece is,” he said, picking up a pair of thin pliers. He poked at some wires, trying to make sense of them. “They used Leyden jars to store the charge before they managed to fine-tune it, but now… The capacitor must be here somewhere. Here’s the spark-gap…high-voltage induction coil… All of it based on Hertz’s work, of course. This piece sends out the signal, I believe, though I’m not quite certain how to change it—or if it will even correlate with the matching chip in the metaljacket’s head once I do.” He looked up. “Honoria?”

She blinked.

“Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

The restless shift of her knuckles in the small of her back caught his attention. Leo frowned. “Are you all right?”

“I’m…frightened.” Honoria rubbed the small of her back, her face paling. For the first time he looked at her, truly looked. Saw the fine white lines around her eyes and the darker shadows beneath them. Saw too the way she kept knuckling her back.

“Blazes,” he whispered. “You’re having pains, aren’t you?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “It’s been happening on and off for a few weeks. The midwife said it’s quite normal, and that if I were to lie down, it would most likely subside. But…they’ve been growing stronger all night. I’ve been trying to hold it in, but what am I going to do?”

“I’ll get Blade. I’ll tell him—”

“No!” Honoria caught his wrist, bending forward and gasping a little, as though to ease some sort of internal pain. Her face screwed up in a grimace, and Leo winced under the sudden assault on his wrist.

It seemed to go on forever, and then she let out an expulsion of breath and started panting. “Don’t…tell him. Not now. He cannot afford to be distracted. I
won’t
distract him right now.” Her expression firmed. “I can hold it. I can. I know I can.”

“Blood and blazes.” Leo scraped a hand over his mouth, nearly stabbing himself in the eye with the pliers. What the devil was he supposed to do? His mouth went dry. This was entirely outside his realm of understanding, but he could understand her desperation. Honoria would never admit it, but there was fear in her eyes—for her husband, for her baby, and for herself. “Esme,” he said. “I’ll fetch Esme.”

“Don’t leave me alone.” Her fingers tightened pitifully.

Leo rubbed a hand over the small of her back and gently directed her to an armchair in the corner of her laboratory. “I’ll only be gone a minute. I need to fetch Esme.” Coherent thought began to form in his head. A plan.
God.
“Esme will know how to fetch the midwife. I don’t see any reason why we need to tell Blade right at this moment. It’s entirely possible this is being brought about by the emotion of the moment and that the pains will subside as they usually do. Is this correct?”

That look of trust on her face… It killed him.

“I want you to stay here, and I’ll return as soon as I’ve found her.”

* * *

It wasn’t as simple as that, it seemed.

“They’re firing the rookeries!” Lark called, darting into the room.

Leo helped lower his sister onto the edge of the bed. Honoria was biting her lip, though she’d not uttered a single sound since he returned.

“Where’s the midwife?” he demanded.
Christ
, Honoria didn’t need to hear that.

“I can’t find ’er,” Lark replied. “’Ouses are all abandoned. Everyone who can ’old a pitchfork’s up on the walls. There’s burnin’ in other parts of the city too.”

“Blade—” Honoria cried weakly as Esme rubbed her back. “Oh God—what if they burn the walls? What if—”

“They’re not going to get through the walls,” Leo replied, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. “Look at me. Blade knows what he’s doing and what he’d be up against. They’ve been stockpiling weapons and supplies for months now—”

“What about Lena? And Will?” Honoria’s eyes filled with tears. “Lena was supposed to be here for this. She said she’d
be
here
.”

He didn’t dare give his little sister and her husband too much thought. They’d be safe. They
had
to be. “No doubt Will is aware of what’s occurring. He’ll make his way here with Lena, or he’ll take her somewhere safe.” For such a small woman, Honoria had one hell of a grip. Leo ground his teeth, ignoring the pressure.

“If there are fires burning elsewhere in the city, then the mobs are rising. The Echelon won’t be able to focus all of their attention here. It’s all right, Honor. Blade’s not going to get hurt.” A ball of emotion tightened in his throat. “I
won’t
let him get hurt. I promise I’ll watch his back for you.”

“You’re going to join the fighting?” Esme asked.

“I’m not much use here.” This was women’s business, and Honoria needed to know her little family would be safe. He’d brought this all down upon them. This was his sister and his niece or nephew. The least he could do was make certain they and her husband survived the war.

No matter what he had to do. He turned to Lark. “Keep looking for the midwife. I’ll ask the duchess if she’s had any experience in this.”

Blinking through tear-glazed eyes, Honoria whispered, “Don’t let him get hurt.”

“I won’t.” Leo kissed her cheek. “Now you make sure you look after yourself and this baby.”

* * *

The door banged open.

Mina stepped away from the window and the sight of the ruddy glow on the horizon as Barrons strode inside. A manacle dangled from her wrist, and part of the headboard was broken. His mouth tightened when he saw her standing free.

“Still here,” she said, lifting her wrist and displaying her iron trappings. He’d chained her to the bed, of all things.

“I see I keep underestimating you,” he replied, shooting a quick glance through the window.

Mina smoothed her skirts. She could feel the tension in him; he didn’t give a damn about her freeing herself. Something had happened.

“What do you know of childbirth?” he asked.

“A little. I attended the queen two years ago when her son was born not breathing.” Possibly the most horrific experience in her life. That poor baby that Alexa had wanted so very much, that
Mina
had wanted… “Why? Is it—” An image flashed to mind of the heavily pregnant young woman she’d caught a glimpse of when she first arrived. “Blade’s wife’s been put to bed, hasn’t she?”

“My sister.” Hesitation caught his next words, then he met her eyes. “They’re searching for the midwife, but there’s been no sign of her. Esme’s asking some of the…women of ill repute outside if they’ve dealt with a birth, but it concerns me. I’ve seen the reports on hygiene and birth fatalities in the East End—”

“Barrons, are you asking me if I can attend your sister?”

There was something she thought she’d never see in his eyes. “Do you know what to do? Can you help her? If anything happened to her—” He swore then, raking a hand through his gilded hair as he glanced once more at the edges of Whitechapel. “I should never have come here. Honoria should have been resting these last few weeks, not dealing with this. If I hadn’t—”

“From my very brief experience, birth is unpredictable at best. It might have happened regardless.” At least all of the books and treatises she’d read in preparation for Alexa’s birthing had claimed such. Still, she was a little shocked. After last night and everything that had happened the day before, she thought she’d be the last person he’d come to for help.

Did he trust her? The thought stilled her breath. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted such a thing until it was lost.

They both stared at each other.

I’m sorry.
Mina’s chin tipped up. “Take me to her,” she said softly. “I’ll do my best to help, though that may be little enough indeed.”

Some of the tension in the firm line of his shoulders softened. “Thank you.”

Mina held up her wrist. “The key?”

Barrons dug it out of his pocket. His hands were gentle on her wrist as he unlocked it. The scent of smoke clung to his coat and Mina leaned into him a little, balancing on her toes as she breathed it in.

“If you run”—the words were silk over steel—“I will catch you. No matter how far or fast you run, I will always catch you.”

“What if I don’t want you to catch me?” she dared ask, rocking back on her heels.

Their eyes met. His were implacable. He tugged the manacles loose, a muscle working in his jaw as if he fought some strong emotion. “If you didn’t want me to catch you…then you should have taken your chances with Morioch. It’s far too late for that now, Duchess.”

* * *

The moment she stepped inside the birthing chamber, the smell of it brought back all of the helplessness she’d felt when she’d held Alexa’s hand through her traumatic delivery. It didn’t matter what she’d said to Barrons. She couldn’t do this.

“Your Grace.” A dark-haired woman turned from the birthing stool, relief melting the tension from her face. “Have you any experience with difficult births?”

“Difficult?”

“The baby’s turned,” the woman replied. “It’s not coming as it should. Or so Dolly says.” She turned back to the blond whore kneeling between Honoria’s thighs and feeling her distended stomach.

“What…what do you mean?” Honoria panted, struggling to sit up. “Esme, what’s wrong? What’s wrong with my baby?”

“I don’t… It’s the…” Esme lost her words.

A sharp rap at the door preceded its opening. A middle-aged woman wearing a scarf and a faded purple hat stepped inside briskly, a small medical bag at her side.

“Mrs. Parsons.” Esme hurried to the newcomer and clasped her hand. “Oh, thank goodness they’ve managed to find you. We’re having a devil of a time.”

The midwife, Mina presumed. She edged toward the door. “It seems you’ve matters well in hand—”

Mrs. Parsons surveyed the room with a cool-eyed glance. “Hot water,” she demanded. “And I’ll need some clean cloths and laudanum. Here, let me have a look at the situation.”

With that, Mina found herself in charge of fetching the required items with Esme. Anything to leave the room.

When she returned, Mrs. Parsons had just finished her exam and was washing her hands. “The baby is in the breech position,” she said quietly to the pair of them. “I’ve tried to turn it, but quite honestly, I’ve always felt Mrs. Rachinger is proportionately inadequate, which is why I originally sent her to the obstetrician. We had hoped that the child would not be overlarge but… I could be wrong, we shall see as the labor progresses—if it progresses—but…”

“Cephalopelvic disproportion?” Mina asked. It was quite common, especially among malnourished women or simply those of narrow proportion.

“So the obstetrician believes.” There was no doubt on Mrs. Parsons’s face, however.

“I have seen this once before,” Mina said. “The queen’s son was born not breathing because it was decided that she was more important than the child.” That moment, when the baby had been delivered, Alexa had seen him and given a groggy cry. “
My
little
boy…
” she’d whispered in a voice that broke Mina’s heart before they took him away. She’d screamed then and struggled. Mina had forced herself to pin the queen down so that the doctors could stop her bleeding.

“If the child were in the correct position I might attempt a forceps delivery. However, there’s little option at this stage. The obstetrician must be sent for. The only way to save either child or mother is to deliver by cesarean,” Mrs. Parsons said. “A choice must be made.”

Esme’s lips parted on a soft cry. “No,” she whispered. “No. It will devastate her. Can we not save both?”

“It’s a risky procedure, Mrs. Doolan,” Mrs. Parsons replied bluntly.

“And there’s no way to fetch the obstetrician now,” Esme whispered. “He’s located in Clerkenwell.”

Mina gestured Mrs. Parsons to the side. “Have you attended any cesareans with an obstetrician?”

“Several. I help Dr. Phillips on occasion. He suffers from shaking palsy and sometimes his hands aren’t as steady as he’d like.”

“So you’ve performed a cesarean?”

“Twice. But you cannot possibly think I could perform such an operation! I know what I’m doing, but the risks are too high. She could suffer from internal bleeding or even hemorrhage to death, and I’m not a surgeon.”

Time to take a gamble. “What if you could perform the operation? You would know where to make the incisions, if nothing else. And what if I could guarantee that I could stop any bleeding?”