Wildfire.

Blinkingly, Louisa darted her golden brown orbs from Madam Eloise to the midwife and back. She was feeling a couple of things but the dominant of her emotions was fright!

Swiveling her gaze from the blank look on Eloise's face to the light beam in the midwife's slate-gray eyes, Louisa could see her world crumbling down in a minute: all of it. The shame. The agony that was going to follow. Then and there, Louisa felt like her knees were about to give in, she could already see herself dropping to the floor and scribbling her weary fingers onto the hem of Eloise's dress. She would beg for mercy then, transfixing her sorry eyes on the old lady's velvet browns. Eloise would then strike her hard with her heels, shoving her some few feets away, loving the scene of her sprawling from the effect of the kick, wailing terribly. Louisa, shaking her head, decided the easy way out. Easy, in that it would help her stall the disaster from happening sooner.