The Robber Bride by Jerrica Knight-Catania Read Free Book Online

There wasn’t much time. They needed a doctor.
    “I’ll be back, Anna. I’m going to find you a doctor.”
    “A doctor?” Anna’s eyes grew round and almost wild with fear. “No, ma’am. A midwife, please.”
    Victoria stared at the girl, wondering how she could possibly find the strength to be choosy in this situation. “But a doctor—a real doctor—will be able to help you better. Besides, I haven’t any idea where to find a midwife.”
    “Mrs. Potts.” The girl winced through another pain. They were getting closer together. “Great Guildford Street at the corner of Southwark .”
    Victoria didn’t bother to ask how Anna knew of this woman or why she just didn’t go to her in the first place. Time was too precious to care. “I’ll find her, Anna. Just hold on, all right?”
    Anna nodded as another pain began. “I’ll try, ma’am.”
    ***
    Fin made his way through Southwark , headed toward The Anchor where he had a meeting that morning. Lord Bishop wished to commission a painting for his wife for her upcoming birthday, and he wanted to discuss the details in a place his wife would never be able to find him.
    He turned the corner, headed for the south bank, and that was when he saw her. Victoria Barclay, running like a mad woman down Blackfriars Road. Though tied about her neck, her bonnet bounced against her back as she ran and her hair blew back, a messy victim of the high winds that day. The color in her cheeks was high—he could see they burned bright red, even at this distance from across the crowded street.
    Fin had a mind to chase after her and give her a good paddling. What the devil was she doing? All alone in Southwark ? This was no place for a lady to find herself, let alone be running with the devil’s speed through the street, attracting attention to herself. Had the girl finally gone mad?
    Fin pulled his fob from his coat pocket. Five minutes until eleven. If he tracked her down and paddled her rebellious little behind, he’d never be on time for his meeting with Bishop. Blast. He had lost her already, anyhow. Damn the crowded streets.
    If she made it home alive, he’d deliver the paddling then.

Seven
     
    By the time Victoria reached Great Guildford and Southwark , her legs were nearly ready to give out on her. They wobbled like Cook’s aspic, but she couldn’t stop now. She needed to find Mrs. Potts and hope that the woman would be willing to help them.
    She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up and down the row of houses there, wondering which one might belong to Mrs. Potts. There weren’t any signs—physical or metaphysical—that pointed to any one door, so Victoria did what she had to do. She began knocking.
    At the first door appeared a man whose assessment of Victoria made her feel as if she needed a bath. Certainly not who she was looking for. Door number two yielded no answer, and Victoria began to feel the pressure of the time. How many minutes had passed since she left the hospital? Twenty? Thirty? Too many, she was certain.
    She scurried from the second door to the third and waited. No answer. She stepped off the step and was heading for the next house when she heard the door creak behind her. When she turned back, an old woman stared at her through the crack. Something told her this was the woman she sought.
    “Mrs. Potts?”
    “Who sent you?” she asked as Victoria moved closer.
    “I need your help, madam. I’m told you’re a midwife.”
    A wry smile came to the woman’s lips and she huffed a humorless laugh. “Something like that.”
    “Please. We’ve a young girl in our hospital. Her labor pains are too close together and the only nurse who knows anything about childbirth is lying in bed with a fever.”
    The woman looked Victoria over and said, “My fee ain’t cheap.”
    “I didn’t expect it would be.”
    Mrs. Potts’s brows rose, and then finally, she nodded her head. “Fetch a hackney. I’m not fit to walk long distances.”
    Victoria