Free Lady in the Veil by Leah Fleming

bribed into silence when the time came.
    For all this Eliza needed to be rehearsed and prepared so that she might make that one effort to get out of the farmhouse without making too much fuss. She had taken to practising with her
sister, walking to the door and pretending it was the outside porch, pretending to get into the steps of Papa’s chaise, rehearsing how they might achieve this one last feat.
    ‘I must take myself to Lawton one more time,’ Eliza announced at the dining table to everyone’s surprise. ‘Just in case I die in childbed. I must see my home one more
time. I want the baby born in Lawton. It will please Papa so much.’ It was about the longest sentence she had spoke in public but everyone was agog with this decision.
    ‘It’ll make you ill again,’ said her husband. ‘Happen, we’ll get the doctor in here to be on the safe side.’
    ‘No, Mr Stockdale, I am decided in this matter. Bella will be at my side. That is sufficient.’ Matt was too dumbstruck to protest further.
    It looked as if their plan was going to succeed. The return to Lawton was achieved even if the welcome was a little cool and the house stripped of many of the best pictures and furnishings,
servants dismissed and owed money. The house was cold and unwelcoming after Yewbank, dark and damp. All that remained was to prepare the bedroom for the confinement and send word for the services
of the best midwife in town, preferably one who liked her ale bottle. Everyone was fussing around Eliza, unaware that the real mother to be was already doubled up with cramp and backache, knowing
her time was close.
    Eliza managed to send for Papa and meet him on the stairs, saying that the labour was beginning and to send for Mistress Ackroyd straight away, clutching her stomach to great effect. No one else
must be admitted through the door until the baby was born.
    ‘I’ll call for Doctor Brindle,’ he said, suddenly alert.
    ‘No, Papa, women are best left to their own devices,’ she ordered, clutching her belly again with a dramatic groan. ‘Leave us be. All is prepared in the upstairs chamber.
Saddle a horse and send news to my husband in due course, that he must come and greet his child tomorrow. Take your time; do not rush back for it will be many hours yet awhile. There will be no
admittance until it is done.’
    By the time the midwife was admitted to the room it was already dusk and Mirabel slipped into the bed in her shift and bed cap while Eliza took on the role of the servant, hovering quietly as
the nurse examined the patient, unaware that they had swapped places. The final piece of deception was in place. Mirabel could hardly breathe as the pains grabbed her body and squeezed the new life
ever forward. It was the longest night of her life. For once Eliza made no fuss and watched on with horror and fascination as the tiny body pushed its way into the world, purple and then pink,
squealing, taking lungfuls of air and yelling lustily while sending an ark of piss across the bed into the nurse’s face.
    One look at her son and Mirabel knew she was bound to him for life. He was perfect, sound in limb and with those bright speedwell-blue Stockdale eyes just like his father. Suddenly she was so
tired and exhausted that she lay back and slept. Eliza was instructed to pay the midwife well and ply her with strong ale so she would be dismissed groggy and sleepy back to the town. There was no
need of her services once she had buried the afterbirth and informed Papa that a healthy boy child was born who would be called William Albert Dacre Stockdale, after their brother.
    Matt wanted to tell the world that he had a son. All his doubts were forgotten as he danced around the kitchen and drained the ale keg dry with his mother looking on.
    ‘Never thowt she’d do it, son, with being that little,’ she grinned. ‘I suppose William’s a good enough name but you should’ve had yer say and all.
This’s what’s wanted, this