‘You shouldn’t be here, ma’am,’ Widow Madge said anxiously. ‘Not so close to your time, and it’s going to be a wild night.’

Rosalind straightened up with a sigh. ‘It’s passed now, Mrs Madge. I’ll just sit for a while, if I may, and then I’ll set off for home.’

Eliza Madge shook her head. ‘I’ve been through this six times in all, ma’am. I don’t think you’re in a condition to drive yourself, not in this weather, anyway.’

Rosalind nodded breathlessly as another spasm shook her whole body. ‘I think I’d better get home quickly, Mrs Madge.’

‘When did you start having pains, ma’am?’ Eliza leaned closer.

The small room was lit by the glow of a driftwood fire and a single tallow candle. The acrid smell of burning fat made Rosalind feel faint, but she took a deep breath. ‘I’ve had them off and on since earlier this afternoon, but I’ve had something similar before, so I ignored them.’

‘Tilly.’ Eliza opened the door to the tiny kitchen at the back of the cottage. ‘Never mind cleaning your boots, child. I want you to run to the castle and get help. Tell them that Mrs Blanchard’s time has come.’

Tilly edged into the room, glancing warily at Rosalind. ‘I could take the cart, Ma. I can handle the reins.’

‘The wind is getting stronger by the minute and it’s pouring with rain. The lane will be awash with mud. You’ll get there quicker if you cut through the woods. Go now, quickly. Don’t make me tell you again.’

‘All right, Ma. I’m going.’ Tilly grabbed a shawl and wrapped it around her head as she opened the door. She had a battle to close it again as the wind battered the front of the cottage. Eliza rushed to help her, scooping up two small girls as she went.

‘Flossie, come down here now. I want you to look after the twins. Give them some bread and milk.’

Flossie thudded down the stairs. ‘Why do I have to do it, Ma? Why is it always me?’

‘You’re a big girl now. Some little children are out on the street selling matches at your age, so do as I tell you. Mrs Blanchard isn’t well.’

Rosalind stifled a groan. ‘I’m sorry to put you to so much trouble, Eliza.’

‘Never mind that. You concentrate on getting that baby born, ma’am.’ Eliza thrust the three-year-old twins into their older sister’s arms. ‘Go into the kitchen and shut the door, there’s a good girl.’

Rosalind lay back on the saggy couch and closed her eyes as another even stronger contraction engulfed her whole body. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out and scaring the young children.