“What does that mean?” she had asked, trying to sound casual. Lately, she had been getting a little nervous about the birth, but she hadn’t wanted to frighten William with her concerns, they seemed so silly.

“It could mean a cesarean,” the doctor confessed to her. “It can be disagreeable, but mother and child are sometimes safer that way if the baby is too large, and yours could be.”

“Would I be able to have more children, if I had one?” He hesitated and then shook his head, feeling he owed her the truth.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Then I don’t want one.”

“Then walk a great deal, move around, get exercise, swim if there is a river near your house. It will all help you with the birth, Madame la Duchesse.” He always bowed politely when she left, and although she didn’t like his threat of a cesarean, she liked him. And she said nothing at all to William about the baby being large, or the possibility of a cesarean section at the birth. There was one thing she was sure of, and that was that she wanted more children. And she was going to do everything she could not to jeopardize that.

The baby was still a week or two away when Germany and Russia signed a pact of nonaggression, leaving only France and Britain as potential allies, since Hitler had already signed a pact with Mussolini, and Spain was virtually destroyed and could help no one.

“It’s getting serious, isn’t it?” Sarah asked him quietly one night. They had just moved into their room in the château, and with all the little details still to be done, she thought she had never seen anything as beautiful, which was exactly how William felt when he looked at Sarah.

“It’s not good. I should probably go back to England at some point, just to see what they think at Number Ten Downing.” But he hadn’t wanted to worry her with it. “Maybe we’ll both go back for a few days, after the baby comes.” They wanted to show it to his mother anyway, so Sarah made no objection to the plan.

“It’s hard to believe we’d go to war, England, I mean.” She was beginning to think of herself as one of them, even though she had kept her American citizenship when she married William, and he saw no particular reason for her to change it. All she wanted was for the world to settle down long enough for her to have her baby. She didn’t want to have to worry about a war, when she wanted to find a quiet home for their child. “You won’t leave if something happens, William, will you?” She looked at him in sudden panic, running all the possibilities over in her mind.

“I won’t leave before the baby comes. I promise you that.”

“But afterwards?” Her eyes were wide with terror.

“Only if there’s a war. Now stop worrying about all that. It’s not healthy for you right now. I’m not going anywhere, except to the hospital with you, so don’t be silly.” She had mild pains as she lay in their new room with him that night, but by morning they were gone and she felt better. It was silly to worry about war now, she was just nervous about the baby, she told herself the next morning when she got up.

But on September first, as she hammered on a cabinet upstairs, on the floor of small bedrooms above theirs, which would make wonderful children’s bedrooms one day, she heard someone shout something unintelligible below her, and then she heard running downstairs, and thought someone might be hurt, so she went all the way down to the main kitchen to help. But they were listening to the wireless there.

Germany had just attacked Poland, with ground troops and by air. William was standing there, listening to the broadcast, and with him every man in the place. Afterwards they all argued about whether or not France would attempt to rescue Poland. A few of them thought they should, many of them didn’t care. They had their own troubles at home, their families, their problems, some of them thought Hitler should be stopped before it was too late for all of them, and Sarah stood there, in terror, staring at William and the others.

“What does this mean?”

“Nothing good,” he said honestly. “We’ll have to wait and see.” They had just finished the roof on the house, the windows were sealed, the floors were done, the bathrooms had been put in, but the details remained to be attacked. Nonetheless, the lion’s share of the work had been done, her home was complete and safe from the elements and the world, in time for her to have her baby. But the world itself was no longer safe, and there was no easy way to change that. “I want you to forget about it right now,” he urged. He had noticed for the past two days that she had been sleeping fitfully, and he suspected that her time was coming closer. And he wanted her free of fear and concerns and worries when their baby came. It was a real possibility that Hitler wouldn’t stop with Poland. Sooner or later, Britain had to step forward and stop him. William knew that, but he didn’t say it to Sarah.

They ate a quiet dinner in the kitchen that night. As always, Sarah’s mind turned to serious things, but William tried to distract her. He wouldn’t let her talk about the news, he wanted her to think about something pleasant. He tried to keep her mind off world events by talking about the house, but it wasn’t easy.

“Tell me what you want to do with the dining room. Do you want to restore the original panelling, or use some of the boiseries we found in the stables?”

“I don’t know.” She looked vague as she tried to focus on his question. “What do you think?”

“I think the boiserie has a brighter look. The panelling in the library is enough.”

“I think so too.” She was playing with her food, and he could see she wasn’t hungry. He wondered if she was feeling ill, but he didn’t want to press her. She looked tired tonight, and worried. They all were.

“And what about the kitchen?” They had exposed all the original brick from four hundred years before, and William loved it. “I like it like this, but maybe you want something a little more polished.”

“I don’t really care.” She looked at him desolately suddenly. “I just feel sick every time I think of those poor people in Poland.”

“You can’t think about that now, Sarah,” he said gently.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not good for you or the baby,” he said firmly, but she started to cry as she left the table and began to pace the kitchen. Everything seemed to upset her more, now that she was so close to having their baby.

“What about the women in Poland who are as pregnant as I am? They can’t just change the subject.”

“It’s a horrifying thought,” he admitted to her, “but right now, right this minute, we can’t change that.”

“Why not, dammit? Why? Why is that maniac doing that to them?” she ranted, and then sat down again, breathless and obviously in pain.

“Sarah, stop it. Don’t upset yourself.” He made her go upstairs and insisted that she lie down on the bed, but she was still crying when she did. “You can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Those aren’t my shoulders, and that’s not the world, it’s your son.” She smiled through her tears, thinking again how much she loved William. He was so unfailingly good to her, so tireless, he had been so incredible restoring the château, he had worked endlessly only because she loved it. Except that he had come to love it, too, by then, and knowing that touched her as well.

“Do you suppose this little monster is ever going to come out?” she asked, sounding tired as he rubbed her back. He still had to go downstairs and put away the dinner things, but he didn’t want to leave her until she’d relaxed, and it was obvious to him that she hadn’t, and probably wouldn’t for a while.

“I think he will eventually. He’s right on schedule for the moment. What did Lord Allthorpe say? September first? That’s today, so he’s only late as of tomorrow.”

“He’s so big.” She was worried about being able to get the baby out. In the past few weeks she had grown even more enormous. And she still remembered what the local doctor had said about the baby being large.

“He’ll come out. When he’s ready.” William bent over her and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “You just rest for a little while. I’ll bring you a cup of tea.” But when he returned with what the French called an “infusion” of mint, she was sound asleep, on their bed, in her clothes, and he didn’t disturb her. She slept beside him that way until morning, and she was startled when she woke up, she had a sharp pain, but she had had them before, and they always came and went and eventually subsided. Actually, she felt stronger than she had in a long time, and there was a long list of things she wanted to finish in the nursery before she had the baby. She hammered and banged there all day, forgetting her worries, and she refused even to come down for lunch when he called her. William had to bring her lunch upstairs, and he scolded her for working too hard, as she turned to face him and laughed. She looked better and happier than she had in weeks, and he smiled, feeling relieved.

“Well, at least we know I’m not going to lose the baby.” She patted her huge belly, and the baby kicked her soundly, as she took a bite of baguette, and another of apple, and went back to work. Even the baby’s clothes and diapers were waiting in the drawers. By the end of the day, she had done everything she had set out to do, and the room looked lovely. She had done everything in white lace, with white satin ribbons. There was an antique bassinet, a beautiful little armoire, a commode that had been in the house, which she had bleached and sanded herself, and the floors were a pale honey color, and there was a tiny Aubusson on the floor. The room was filled with love and warmth, and the only thing missing was the baby.

She went downstairs to the kitchen at dinnertime, and put together some pasta and cold chicken and a salad for them both. She warmed some soup, and bread, and then she called upstairs for William. She poured him a glass of wine, but said she didn’t want any. She couldn’t drink anymore, it gave her terrible heartburn.

“You did a good job.” He had just been upstairs to see, and he was impressed by how much energy she had, she hadn’t been that lively in weeks, and after dinner she suggested they go for a walk in the garden.

“Don’t you think you should rest?” He looked faintly worried, she was overdoing it. No matter that she was twenty-three years old, she was about to go through an ordeal that he had always heard wasn’t easy, and he wanted her to rest.

“What for? The baby may not come for weeks. I’m beginning to feel like I could go on like this forever.”

“You certainly act like it. Are you all right?” He eyed her intently, but she looked well. Her eyes were sparkling and clear, her cheeks pink, and she was teasing him as she laughed.

“I’m fine, William, I promise.” Her conversation tonight was about her parents, and Jane, and his mother, and the house on Long Island. Her parents had done extensive work there, too, and her father said everything would be back to normal again by the following summer. That was a long time, but there had been a lot of damage from the storm. They still missed Charles, and there was a new caretaker now. A Japanese man, and his wife.

She seemed very nostalgic as they walked along through the gardens. Tiny bushes were beginning to grow here and there, and the garden seemed filled with hope and promise, just as she did.

They went back to the house finally, and she seemed content to lie down and rest. She read a book for a while, and then she got up and stretched and went to look out the window at the moonlight. Their new home was beautiful, and she loved everything about it. It was the dream of her life.

“Thank you for all this,” she said gently from where she stood, and he looked at her from the bed, touched by how sweet she looked. She looked so young and so enormous. And then as she started back toward the bed, she looked around, at the floor, and then up at the ceiling above. “Damn, we’ve got a terrible leak from someplace, one of the pipes must have burst.” She couldn’t see it above her or on the wall, but the entire floor was covered with a pool of water.

He stood up with a frown, and looked at the ceiling as she had. “I don’t see anything. Are you sure?” But she pointed to the floor, and he looked around her, and then at her back again. He had understood before she did. “I think you’re the one with the leaky pipes, my love,” he said gently, not sure what he should do to help her, as he smiled.

“I beg your pardon!” She looked highly insulted as he brought out a pile of towels from the bathroom they had fashioned from the room next to their own, and suddenly understanding began to dawn in her eyes. It had never even occurred to her. Her water had broken.