She took the baby to her chest and looked down at him. He seemed to look back up with his filmy eyes, his little mouth working and wrinkling as he was about to start crying. She remembered then that babies took milk from their mothers. With a red face, she lifted the blanket to cover herself a bit before exposing her breast to the little one. He latched on after rooting around a moment or two, and ate lustily of the milk. She peeked under the blanket for a moment to watch him, then said, "I think he'll be fine. Oh, but ye're a big boy ain't ye?" She gave a tired laugh and settled her head back. Her eyes then settled on the doctor and she continued to blush, but said, "Thank ye fer yer efforts."

Tristan drew a chair near and sat down. "That's alright. I'm glad you and the child are healthy." He thought of how to formulate his next question. She had said something about her husband, he seemed to remember, but he had been focused on other things. "Do your husband or family know your here?" She had arrived with a coachman. Where had he gone off to?

She put a hand on her forehead when he mentioned her husband. "I don't know where HE is. He left me fer another woman soon after we wed. As fer me family, they don't even know I'm married, nor about the baby." She rolled her eyes upward to try and stop herself from tearing up, but was failing miserably. She sighed and gave a sniff.

He could see that she was upset, but a solution had to be found. "You came with a carriage," he suggested. "Where did you come from? Would that be a place where you could convalesce?"

"I got caught in the rain last night... I found sanctuary with the Blackwoods for a time. They let me rest overnight and sent me away after vittles. I was on me way home when me labor started. I suppose I startled the coachman." The babe seemed to let go of her breast. She peeked under the blanket and straightened her blouse before adjusting the boy against her chest. He was sleeping away, milk drunk. She forgot her problems for a mere moment as she gazed at her babe. "If ye have a pen and paper handy, I could send a message to me ma and pa." Not that they would be happy to see her, especially in her current state, she thought morosely.

"Of course." Tristan said, and he handed her paper and a fountain pen. When she was done, he called for Pippa to deliver the note. He hoped her parents would pick her up soon. It was getting late and he had already lost a day for which he wasn't sure he was going to get paid. He wanted to close up.

She quickly scrawled a note to her parents and handed it over. She didn't explain anything other than needing help from her pa or ma and could they please come collect her? That there was much to discuss but she would explain when they got there. Pippa took the note and took off to the address that Ruth had written on the back of the folded paper. Then she was lost in paying attention to her son, who was awake again and content against her chest.

Bill took the note and turned back into the house. "Lottie? Joe? Kate?" he called out, looking for someone who could read the note.

Lottie came out from the kitchen at her husband's cry, wiping her hands off on her apron.

"What's that? A Note? Give it 'ere." Lottie took the note the proffered note from Bill. It wasn't a telegram, and the paper was nice, with no stamp.

"Oh My God! It's from Ruth." Lottie exclaimed. She scanned the letter as quickly as her eyes would allow, reading eagerly "She says she's back in Whitby and is currently staying with a Doctor Wells, the address is blah blah blah.. can we please collect 'er. She'll explain all when we see 'er."

Lottie folded the note, unsure of her feelings.

"Well I never," Lottie began. Then she decided she was angry. "A whole year and nowt a bloody word! Now she wants us to come and collect her like she's high 'n mighty! Can you believe the cheek of that girl?" Lottie asked not expecting an answer. "ooooh" she made a scolding frustrated sound "I need some tea."

Bill folded his arms across his chest when his wife took the note. The next moment, he drew in a sharp breath. Ruth! For over a year they had been desperate to hear from her, yet the selfish girl had refused to communicate. She had run away and they had been dead to her.

He found his head spinning. Ruth. Here she was at last. Shameless girl. He shared his wife's sentiment, and yet, when his head stopped spinning, he followed her into the kitchen and gently took her arm. "We don't know what's goin' on. There's no time for tea. For all we know it's sum't bad."