In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe
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‘Oh…’ Kathryn breathed hard as the pain ripped through her, much stronger now and more urgent. ‘I think I should go to my room.’
As she went into the house, she met her father-in-law. Charles looked at her white face and realised what was happening. He summoned a servant as Kathryn bent over with the pain.
‘You must go to bed, my dear. I shall send for the physician—and a message will be delivered to Lorenzo. You need him to be here with you at this time.’
‘Thank you.’
Kathryn bit her lip, refusing to give into the fear and pain, which was coming often now. She was glad of the assistance of her maids. They helped her to undress and to lie on her bed, packing pillows at her back to try to make her comfortable, and bringing towels when her waters broke.
Elizabeta came to sit with her, holding her hand as the pains racked her body, making her writhe in agony and cry out.
‘You are doing well,’ she said. ‘Your pains are much stronger than mine were at this early stage. I think your labour will be shorter.’
Kathryn could not answer. She had never felt such terrible pain and could not stop herself screaming as it became intense once more, and she experienced a strong desire to push.
‘It is coming,’ Elizabeta cried. ‘Oh, my dear friend, I can see the head. Push harder now and it will soon be over.’
Kathryn did as she was bid. The pain then made her scream long and loud, and it was this sound that Lorenzo heard as he entered the house.
His father met him, restraining him, as he would have gone to Kathryn. ‘Wait a little, my son. She has her women and Elizabeta.’
‘She needs me. I must go to her.’
At that moment they heard a wailing sound and looked at each other in relief. ‘It is over. Kathryn…’
Lorenzo broke from his father’s hold and started towards his wife’s room. As he reached it another terrible scream broke from her.
‘Kathryn?’ He looked towards the bed and was met by a warning look from Elizabeta. ‘We thought the babe was born?’
‘Your son was impatient to make his way into the world, sir—but it seems there is another child. And this one may take its time.’
‘Another child? Twins…’ Lorenzo turned pale, for such births were more difficult for the mother. He went to the bedside, reaching for Kathryn’s hand as she writhed in agony. ‘My poor love, forgive me.’
Kathryn shook her head to deny his fault, but the pain was too intense for her to speak to him. She clung on to his hand, her fingers digging into his palms as the pain struck again.
‘Our son. Call him Dickon,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘If anything should happen to me…’
‘Nothing will happen!’ He looked about him impatiently. ‘Where is the physician? Has no one sent for him?’
‘He was sent for at once,’ Elizabeta told him, ‘but your son came quickly.’ She showed him the babe wrapped in soft swaddling. ‘Is he not beautiful?’
‘Yes, but I would to God he had been the only one,’ Lorenzo said, his face white with concern. He watched as Kathryn moaned and writhed, frustrated that he could do nothing to help her. ‘Damn the man! Where is he?’
‘Here, Signor Santorini, at your service.’
The physician entered, a small, dapper man dressed in dark clothes and carrying a wooden box, which contained the instruments of his trade.
‘She is in such pain,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Do something to help her!’
‘If you would please leave the room. Only one lady should remain while I examine your wife, signor.’
Lorenzo seemed as if he would refuse, but Elizabeta gave him a speaking look. ‘I shall stay with her. You can trust Signor Viera. He was very good when I was in labour. Kathryn will do well now that he is here.’
Lorenzo bent to kiss Kathryn’s forehead, which was damp with sweat. ‘I shall return soon,’ he promised.
Outside the bedchamber he found his father waiting anxiously for news. ‘Is all well?’ he asked.
‘Kathryn has given birth to a healthy boy, but there is another child and this one does not come so easily.’
‘God have mercy!’ Charles crossed himself. ‘At least the physician is with her now.’
‘For what good it may do us,’ Lorenzo snarled. He had little faith in doctors and was consumed with fear that he might lose the woman he loved more than life itself.
It was several minutes later that the doctor came out to them.
‘The second child has turned the wrong way. I must turn it and perhaps use my instruments to bring it out. If I do, the child may be damaged. It is a risk, but unless I help your wife she may die in the struggle to give birth.’
‘Save Kathryn,’ Lorenzo said. ‘I pray the child will not suffer too much harm—but you must save my wife.’
‘It shall be as you say.’
Lorenzo stared as the door closed behind him once more. He belatedly tried to follow, but Charles stopped him.
‘The birthing chamber is no place for you, my son.’
‘Kathryn needs me.’
‘I know how you feel, but you must leave this to Elizabeta and the doctor. When your mother died giving birth to a stillborn child, I wanted to be with her, but she did not want me near her. Go to Kathryn as soon as it is over, Lorenzo.’
Lorenzo was torn by his desire to comfort his wife and the wisdom of his father’s words. He paced the hall outside Kathryn’s chamber like a caged beast, each minute seeming like an hour. And then, at last, when he thought he could bear it no longer, the door opened and the doctor came out to him.
‘Your daughter is very weak, signor. She may not live the night. Your wife is well, but will need to rest. She has suffered some damage and it may be that she will not be able to have more children.’
‘But she is well? She will live?’
‘She needs rest, but she will live,’ the doctor told him. ‘You may go into her now, signor.’
Kathryn lay with her eyes closed as he approached the bed, but she opened them and smiled as he bent over her to kiss her softly on the lips.
‘We have a son and a daughter. Is that not clever of me, Lorenzo?’
‘You are wonderful, my darling,’ he said and looked at her with love. ‘Thank you for my son, Kathryn. He is a most