That night, as I went to bed, I felt especially sick, but I ignored it. When I woke up, David was not there. I looked around and decided to go down the hall to his study. My stomach began to hurt a lot, and the silence was eerie. I opened the door to the study and saw his head sticking out at the top of the chair.
"David-" I began, quietly, "Come to bed, Dear." I went to him and began to pull on his arm.
"No, you go, Jane. I'll be fine!" He said, quieting down.
"David, come on- it's late. I need you in there with me in case the baby comes."
"Jane, go away!" He snapped at me.
"But David. I need you- I need you with me. It's quiet outside- too quiet. Please, please come. I need you, I do!"
"Well, I don't need you!" He yelled, getting up out of his chair and going to the fireplace and pacing about.
"No- the child was an acci-"
"QUIT!" I yelled at him, ran towards him, and slapped him over and over. "YOU NEVER LOVED ME! IT WAS ALL A JOKE- YOU HATE ME AND MY BABY- YOU USED ME! YOU'RE A HORRIBLE CREATURE!"
David grabbed my hands and yanked my body forwards so I was scrunched against him.
"STOP IT WOMAN!" He yelled, shaking me and threw me to the floor."
I screamed and then, it happened- the pains came. The child was coming. I tried to push myself up from the floor but fell back.
"DAVID, HELP ME!" I yelled very loudly.
"Stop your whining-" he said, sitting in his chair.
I grabbed a hold of a small bureau by the door and pulled myself up into a standing position. The water splattered every where.
I let out a blood -curdling scream that shook the old books on the dusty shelves. I fell to the floor and writhed about.
"David, help me," I pleaded.
Leave me alone, Woman!" He said, picking up a glass of alcohol by his chair.
I managed to pull myself back up and opened the door. I rang the bell that dangled from the ceiling outside the room; it alerted the servants of a new task that needed to be carried out.
I fled from the room, running down the hall and screaming. I got to the stairs and tried to get down them, but I slipped and fell down the 50-step landing that connected the two separate staircases that led to the two different wings. I passed out before I hit the floor.
I finally awoke on a nice and cool summer's morning. The window's were wide open. I looked for some sign of life. My body was bruised and sore, but I did get out the bed and into the hall without too much pain.
"HELLO?" I began, the sound echoed off the walls. "HELLO?" I suddenly heard scuffling about down the hall, so I proceeded carefully down to the small chapel down the hall, near the backstairs that led down to the kitchen. David was standing in the doorway and he turned around to see my face.
"Jane? Oh, Jane, please forgive me," he begged. "I'm sorry, I am." He whimpered. "Jane, I was drunk- I was-"
"So that gives you license to call my baby and accident- Oh my; MY BABY! Where's my baby?" I began in desperation. "Where's my baby? David, where's my baby?" I looked at him, my eyes filling with tears. "Please, please, where's my baby?" There was no answer. "Please, please...where's my-"
"He's dead, Jane!" He said, quietly.
"NO, NO! It's your fault, David John Colwyn. No- my baby's not dead. He's alive; this is just a cruel, joke. Yes, that's it isn't it- just a cruel joke. HA, HA- very funny. Now where is he? Let me see him?"
He shook his head. "No, Jane, he's dead."
"Let her see it, David-" came a voice behind the door. It was Lena's voice, but I couldn't see Lena.
The room was dark. There was a small coffin in the middle of the room. It was rich cherry wood with velvet blue lining. Candles were situated on five foot tall poles that circled around the baby's coffin. I went forward and picked him up "No..." I moaned, "NO!" I looked at the boy. "James- his name is James."
I woke up. The bed was covered in blood and my stomach was flatter. I couldn't feel the baby sitting on my bladder anymore, and David was no where to be found. "David-" I began.
I heard the door open, and he appeared. "Hello," he began, softly.
"What's happened?" I asked.
"Shh!" He said and went to a crib that I hadn't noticed in the corner. He gently took out a small bundle that began to squirm.
I held my arms out and David passed the child to me. I held my firstborn child, amazed at it's size. It's fingers were so tiny and the head was so small. It's nose was scrunched up and it's toes curled around my fingers.
"It's a boy, Jane."
"I know it is." I replied, consumed with my son.
"Oh, really?" He asked playfully, "And how did you know?"
"I dreamed last night about you, James." I said, looking at my baby boy.
"That's his name...James."
"I like it."
Then, I looked up at David. "He was dead. I fell down the stairs when I was giving birth to him. I named his James, but his middle name-"
"Elliott-" David said, without wincing.
"Elliott?" I began and the memory of my miscarriage filled me as the tears that filled my eyes. "Yes, James Elliott Colwyn-" I said, smiling. "That's your name. James Elliott Colwyn."
Question: What do you think? This is the last chapter of the beginning of the book. Second and third part aren't as long, but they're about Emily Colwyn. Should I continue? I mean, are you interested in learning what Emily's fate is?