The Midwife's Tale Read Online Free PDF

recommended Esther eat satryion or ragwort flowers soon after the end of her terms.
    “Has my prescription had good effect?” I asked.
    “It is too soon to tell, but at least there is pleasure in the trying.” She laughed. “If God sees fit, He will answer our prayers.” I thought about Michael and Birdy and wondered at some of the things that God saw as fit. I pushed away such blasphemous thoughts as best I could.
    “If you do become pregnant, remember my advice,” I said.
    “I know, I know, ‘pomegranate seeds boiled in oil of lilies,’” she said with a laugh. She mimicked my Herefordshire accent with alarming accuracy. “Sometimes I think you want me to have a child as much as I do, if only so you have one to indulge.” She must have seen the sadness that welled up inside me. “My lady, I did not mean that as it sounded.”
    “Do not worry,” I said, patting her knee. “You may well be right.” I changed the subject as quickly as I could. “You did well with Patience today. Are you quite sure you won’t let me take you on as my deputy? You have a gift for working with women in travail.”
    “Thank you, my lady, but I cannot. Someday I will, but Stephen does not think it meet for me to do so before I have children.”
    “I think he fears that you’ll spend even more time with your gossips, and leave him unattended,” I said. “Or that you’ll have money of your own.”
    “Stephen is a good man,” Esther said with a laugh. She knew I did not approve of how he treated her. “When I give him children, I’m quite sure he will relent. Then I will be happy to learn from you.”
    Esther and I gossiped a bit more, but soon enough it was time to leave. We embraced again and went our separate ways.
    *   *   *
    That evening, clouds swept in from the west and rain began to fall. As I warmed myself by the fire, I found myself hoping that the rain would soak the rebels to the bone. I should not have had such uncharitable thoughts, and in His wisdom, God punished me for my vindictive spirit. As Hannah helped prepare me for bed, Martha came in and announced that Elizabeth Asquith’s manservant was at the door.
    “He says that his mistress had been in labor for some time, and will soon need a midwife.” Without my saying a word, Hannah began retying my bodice.
    “Tell him I’ll be there shortly,” I said. “Do you feel up to assisting me tonight?” I asked Hannah.
    She looked uncomfortable. “Honestly, I am not well, my lady,” she said. “I’ve been in and out of the jakes since the afternoon. I fear I’ll be there for much of the night. My guts are pinching me…” She trailed off. I considered my options. Any of Elizabeth’s gossips could assist me in the delivery, but I felt uneasy at the prospect of walking the city alone at night.
    “Very well,” I said. “Show Martha where my bag is, and tell her we’ll be leaving shortly.” Hannah nodded and left. “Make sure she gets the birthing stool as well,” I called after her. The stool had been a bequest from my mother-in-law, who had trained me in that art. Except for my house, the stool was the oldest thing I owned. I finished dressing and went down to the parlor, where Martha waited. Martha picked up the stool and lantern while I carried my valise, and the two of us stepped into the night.
    As we left my house, Martha slipped on pig dung left by one of the scores of animals that roamed the city. She landed hard on her rear and uttered a string of oaths more fit for a sailor than a maidservant. “I’m sorry, my lady,” she said. “I’ll mind my tongue.” It was not an auspicious start to our night’s work.
    We walked down Stonegate and turned onto a narrower side street that would take us directly to Elizabeth’s. I knew the way but still felt a bit nervous—thanks to the rain, the light from our lantern seemed to extend only a few feet in front of us, and the street’s broken paving stones made for treacherous footing.