Chapter Text
“Amma! Watch me, Amma!” Neddy cried as he pulled his custom-made, child-sized mallet back and whacked the orange ball.
It missed the wicket by five centimeters.
“Good try, Neddy,” Anthony said as he ruffled his hair. “You can try again when it’s your turn, but now it’s Milo’s.”
Milan, who had not yet grown out of his baby-sweetness, took his own mallet and hit the yellow ball, which rolled half a meter.
“So close!” Anthony exclaimed. “I’m sure it will make it through the wicket next time.”
Their days at Aubrey Hall were usually full of sunshine, picnics, and family games, but only this year – now that Neddy was seven and Milo was five – did Kate and Anthony agree they were old enough to start playing Pall Mall, and only with each other.
It was Kate’s turn, and she slowly waddled over to her ball.
“Are you all right, my love? Do you need to take a break?” Anthony asked anxiously.
“You are hovering, husband. I am well.”
She was not well. She had been feeling pain in her lower back since dawn, and – having experienced this twice before – believed herself to be in labor. However, the boys were so excited about playing Pall Mall today that she did not want to disappoint them. Besides, she still had a few weeks before she was due to deliver, and she knew these pains could be signs of false labor.
Additionally, she refused to be locked in her bedchamber, lying on her back in bed, for the last several weeks of her pregnancy, in spite of Anthony’s wishes.
When Anthony suggested she sit out this game of Pall Mall – her sons’ first – Kate had argued with him, insisting she was with child, not an invalid, and she had the ability to walk across the yard and follow her ball.
So she promised not to play with her usual intensity and not to strike her ball too hard, and he begrudgingly agreed, not that she needed his permission.
Besides, she refused to admit he was right about her cutting out.
She breathed slowly, then gently tapped the ball with the Mallet of Death, which she had stolen and hidden where Anthony could not find it last year. Fortunately, being with child had not prevented her from retrieving it, and when her husband saw her with his (really, her) mallet, well, that made playing even sweeter.
Her ball rolled halfway to the next wicket, and she groaned. “Anthony, this is not fair. I am fine to play, and you already have an advantage over me.”
“What advantage?”
“You are not with child.”
He walked over to her and said, “Please, Kate. I’m only looking out for your and our little one’s safety.” He placed his hand on the swell of her abdomen.
“All right. I will play gently.”
Anthony stepped over to his ball and swung, but she could tell he did not use his usual force. They had agreed to temper their playing both for her sake as well as their children’s. She appreciated that he held back and played like the gentleman he once claimed to be, setting a good example for the boys, instead of acting like a feral child intent on winning at all costs.
Her sons were Bridgertons. They would develop into madmen when it came to the sport soon enough.
Even with his lack of force, his ball rolled through the wicket, and the boys cheered for their beloved appa.
Taking his turn, Neddy swung, and his ball rolled through the wicket this time. “Yes! Did you see that, Amma?”
“Yes, beta. I am so proud of you.”
Another sharp pain began to crest, and she slowly exhaled.
Milan’s next attempt brought his ball closer to the wicket, but it still did not make it through. “Can I try again, Appa?”
Anthony looked over at her with a question in his eyes. On the one hand, her son was young and needed encouragement. Taking two turns in a row would not harm anyone. On the other hand, he needed to learn how to play the sport fairly.
Unable to decide, she shrugged her shoulders at Anthony, eyes darting to Milo and then back to his as if indicating it was his decision.
Anthony decided, “One last try.”
This time, Milo’s ball made it through. “Whoo-hoo!” he yelled as he jumped in place.
“It is your turn, Kate.”
The pain was so severe, she could not answer.
“Kate?”
She bent over, suddenly feeling a release in pressure, and liquid pooled at her feet.
“KATE.” Anthony dropped his mallet and rushed to her.
“I believe my waters have broken,” she calmly replied.
“You! You vexing woman!” he cried as he swept her in his arms and carried her toward the house.
“Amma! What’s wrong?”
“Appa? What is happening?”
The two boys raced after their father, asking many questions, but Kate could hardly focus on them.
Anthony began directing the staff as he carried her to the bedchamber set aside for Kate’s lying-in.
“Someone get the doctor and the midwife and start preparing the bed. The viscountess is in labor. And someone take the boys to the nursery.”
“Anthony? Kate? What is wrong?” Violet asked as she rushed in from the other room.
Though their family was not due to visit for several more weeks, Kate was grateful that her mother in law had arrived early.
“Kate is in labor, Mother. Will you please check on the boys?”
“Yes, of course.”
Finally, Anthony arrived at the bedchamber where two maids were already putting down the bedding and towels for the delivery.
Sarah, who still served as Kate’s lady’s maid, met them at the door with a nightgown in hand.
“Let me help you change the viscountess, my lord.”
Now that the pain had passed, Kate looked at her husband and saw his jaw clench. He seemed perfectly controlled on the outside, the viscount giving orders, but she saw a bit of wildness with a hint of fear in his eyes.
She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I am well, jaan. I am well.”
Anthony nodded, then sat her on the bed and began to remove her day dress. Sarah assisted, and soon, she was in her nightgown, and lying in the bed with pillows propping her up. Dr. and Mrs. Thompson, his wife who acted as a midwife, were called in from one of the guest rooms where they had been staying. Both walked in calmly.
At first, Anthony did not want a midwife to deliver their child believing that no fewer than three doctors should be present, but Kate blatantly refused, saying that none of them had borne children. They argued to the point of tears, with Kate finally agreeing to be attended by one doctor and a midwife. It was a miracle that Dr. Thompson had a practice in the nearest town, and that his wife had experience with assisting him. After Neddy was delivered safely, and Kate suffered no harm, Anthony agreed to let them oversee Kate’s care and each of their children’s births.
“Let us see how far along you are, Lady Bridgerton. How far apart are the contractions?” Dr. Thompson asked as he began the exam while Mrs. Thompson began opening the windows, believing that cooping a woman up in a room with a roaring fire was not good for her or the child’s health.
“About five minutes, maybe less,” Kate replied as a new wave of pain began to overtake her.
She looked at Anthony, who had removed his coat and was rolling up his sleeves. After attending two births, the Thompsons knew better than to attempt to remove him from the birthing room. He took his place at Kate’s side and quickly kissed her on the forehead before holding his hand out. She took it in hers and started squeezing as the pain swelled.
The next several hours were agony as Kate’s body prepared for the birth. The pains grew closer and closer until they were all she could focus on.
“Breathe, Kate. Like this.” Anthony took the hand he was holding and placed it on his chest as he slowly breathed in and out like she had done with him so many years ago.
She tried her best to follow his pattern. “It hurts,” she cried as her tears mixed with her sweat.
“I know, my love. You’re so strong, Kate. You’re doing so well.”
“My lady,” Dr. Thompson interrupted, “it is time to push.”
With Anthony holding one of her legs and Mrs. Thompson holding the other, Kate began pushing. She pushed with all her might until the midwife told her to stop.
“I can’t do this,” she panted.
“Yes, you can, Kate. Yes, you can,” Anthony said before quickly kissing her.
She entered what felt like an endless cycle of pushing and pausing in between, with Anthony coaching her through the pain. Her breathing was out of control, and she thought if she could just get on top of the pain, she might survive.
She must survive. For Anthony, for her sons, and for this new child.
“One last push, Lady Bridgerton,” the doctor encouraged.
Kate screamed as she bore down with all her might, and it felt as if she had been stuck by lightning, splitting her body down the middle.
A cry pierced the air.
“Kate, Kate, you did it.” Anthony rained kisses on the top of her head.
Mrs. Thompson took the baby from the doctor, and then he helped Kate deliver the afterbirth, but all she could think of was her child.
“Anthony, is the baby all right?” she asked.
“Congratulations, Lord and Lady Bridgerton,” Mrs. Thompson said. “You have a healthy daughter.” She placed the bundle of baby and blankets in her arms, and Kate carefully moved to the side so Anthony could join her.
He sat next to her and wrapped his arms around them both.
“She’s beautiful, Kate. Thank you. Thank you, Kate. I love you both so much,” he said with tears streaming.
Although Anthony would have been happy had she borne him a third son, she knew deep in his heart, he wanted a daughter. She had wanted a daughter, too.
She stroked the baby’s cheek with her finger and luxuriated in the softness of her skin.
“She is very red,” Kate laughed, and Anthony joined her. “Do you think she will have my and Milo’s complexions, or will she look more like you and Edmund?”
“She is beautiful just like you,” Anthony replied. “Look how large her eyes already are.”
Indeed, their daughter had Kate’s eyes, as well as a few curls on top of her head.
“I was thinking about her name,” Kate said.
“Charulata of course,” Anthony replied, “after her paatti.”
“But what about naming her Charulata Daphne? After all, if it had not been for your sister’s support, I do not know if we would be here now, together.”
“Kate.” Anthony once again had tears in his eyes. “I can think of nothing more perfect.”
“Charulata Daphne Bridgerton it is then.” Kate kissed her daughter’s head. “Hello, my darling Charu. Amma loves you so much.”
She, Anthony, and Charulata stayed cuddled together for a few minutes more before Mrs. Thompson suggested Kate be cleaned up and moved to her bedchamber. Anthony took Charulata in his arms while Mrs. Thompson and Sarah assisted Kate. She could hear him whispering to the baby, but she did not hear what he said.
Once she was given a sponge bath and changed into a new nightgown and given padding, she was placed in her bedchamber, where Sarah combed and braided her hair.
The doctor and midwife left, telling her they would check on both her and the baby in a few hours, followed by Sarah, and then she, Anthony, and the baby were alone.
Anthony placed the baby in her arms, and Kate brought her to her breast and attempted to nurse, but Charulata was sound asleep.
“I know, little one. Amma is tired too.” Deciding she would try to nurse the baby later, Kate asked, “Should we bring the boys in now?”
Anthony smiled. “I’ll be right back.”
While Kate waited, she stared at her daughter and thought of her amma and appa, of Mary and Edwina, of crossing the ocean on a ship and everything that led up to this moment. Of an arrogant viscount with a pleasing smile who humbled himself and allowed himself to be loved.
Kate blinked back a few tears and laughed.
The door opened, and Anthony said, “Remember to be gentle,” as their sons and Violet entered the room.
“Amma!” they both cried.
“Shhh, the baby is sleeping.”
“Sorry, Amma.”
“Sorry.”
Violet walked over and looked down at the baby. “Congratulations. She is so beautiful, Kate.”
“Thank you, Violet.”
“Can we see, Amma?”
“Let me help you,” Anthony said as he placed both boys on the bed. “Amma is sore, so be careful.”
“Are you all right?” Neddy asked as he cuddled up next to her.
“Yes, beta. Just a little tired and sore, as Appa said.”
“This is our new baby?” Milo, who leaned against her opposite side, asked.
“Boys, this is Charulata, your sister.”
“Why is she so tiny?”
“Well, Neddy, all babies are tiny, but she was born a little early, so she is tinier than you were.”
“Was I that tiny, Amma?”
“You were a little bit bigger, Milo, but still so very tiny.”
“Can she talk?”
“No,” Kate laughed. “She can cry, though, and she will sleep a lot at first, but soon, she will be talking and walking, and you can play with her.”
“Can I hold her?”
With Anthony supporting Neddy, Kate placed the baby in her brother’s arms, and then Milo wanted a turn, so they repeated the process.
“I think it’s Grandmama Violet’s turn now,” Anthony said, taking the baby and passing her to his mother.
Kate wanted to argue that, having given birth, she should hold Charulata, but she was too exhausted.
After a few moments, Violet returned the baby to Anthony and said, “Come with me, boys. Let us celebrate your sister with a piece of cake.”
“Can we, Appa?”
“Yes, Neddy.”
Anthony kissed the top of each boy’s head and sent them away with Violet before closing the door and returning to Kate, who yawned.
“I think you need rest, my love.”
“I just want to hold her, Anthony.”
“We’ll hold her together.”
Anthony removed his shoes and gently climbed into the bed, then pulled Kate against his chest and wrapped his arms around them both.
“Sleep, Kate,” he whispered. “We’ll both be here when you wake.”
Though she fought against it, her eyes grew heavier. Held in the arms of the one who loved her the most, she drifted off, knowing that whatever dreams she may have, life with Anthony and her family was much, much sweeter.