Only a Lady Will Do: To Marry a Rogue, Book 5

by Gill, Tamara

  It did not. "Josh, it hurts. I can't."

  "You can," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. "You are so brave and strong. The strongest woman I know. I know you can, and you will. Just keep breathing, my love."

  The housekeeper quickly did away with Iris's gown, and she lay back against a bank of pillows that Josh had placed behind her, giving her as much comfort as he could.

  But it was no use. The pain would not cease, and each time it seemed to become longer, more painful until it felt as if it were one continuous spasm.

  Sweat poured off her in droves. Josh dabbed a damp cloth on her brow, but it was too much. Too soon. She wasn't ready to have a baby. She had been told labor was a slow process that increased over hours. She could not bear it if that were true of her situation, and it only became worse than it already was.

  Pain tore through her again, and she felt the urge to push. The housekeeper lifted her shift, her eyes widening. Iris did not know what to make of that and nor could she voice her question as another cramp tore through her abdomen, robbing her of her wits.

  "What is it?" Josh demanded, a fierce glare on his brow.

  "The baby. It's crowning." The housekeeper settled at the end of the bed. "Your Grace, you're going to have this baby without the doctor present, but do not fear, I see the head and have helped birth many babes, your husband one of them. I shall keep you safe."

  Iris did not miss the whispered words of her husband, who murmured you better before coming to sit beside Iris, supporting her as best he could. She held on to him, needing his support more than ever. She clasped his hands as another cramp wrenched her abdomen, and she again felt the urge to push.

  She did as the housekeeper bade, bearing down, wanting the child out if only to end this unenduring agony. "Josh," she sobbed, unable to hide the panic in her voice. "Please help me. I can't do it."

  "Push, darling. Push out our child."

  She did as he bade, pushing with all her might, and a wail sounded from the end of the bed. Iris heaved a sigh of relief, flopping back onto the cushions. The sight of the housekeeper holding up the small pink babe made her lose control of her emotions, and she sobbed, reaching out to take the baby.

  The housekeeper laid the babe upon her, tying the cord that connected Iris to the baby twice before cutting it free.

  Iris lifted the baby's little leg and smiled. "It's a girl, Josh. We have a daughter."

  She looked up at her husband and found his eyes full of tears, his cheeks wet with emotion. She tried to comfort him, but she did not feel any better. Pain ripped through her a second time, and she gasped, handing the baby off to Josh.

  The housekeeper who was cleaning her hands rushed back over to her and checked her. "Oh, Your Grace."

  "What?" Josh yelled, handing the child over to Iris's lady’s maid.

  The housekeeper settled at the base of the bed again. "I believe another baby is coming."

  "What?" Iris and Josh said in unison before Josh came over to her again when she reached for him.

  "How can there be another? The doctor never stated as much," Josh demanded as if it were the housekeeper's fault.

  "It happens sometimes. A baby will hide behind the other in the womb."

  Iris cringed as the awful, ripping pain wracked her body, and again the urge to push assailed her. She bore down, determined to birth a second child in as many minutes. At this point, determination kicked in, and she wanted it over. Never again would she birth another child. It was too much. Too awful for words, even if her daughter was the prettiest little cherub to exist.

  "I see the head," the housekeeper declared.

  With all her might, Iris pushed when the next contraction assailed her. She did not know if she was doing it right or if she was making any progress. For what seemed like longer than the first, she worked on getting her next baby born.

  Another contraction, another urge, and with what was left of her strength, she pushed hard and was relieved when a second piercing cry rent the air, marking the second child was alive and well.

  As before, the housekeeper laid the baby on her chest, the little dark-haired sweetheart so similar to their first.

  "Josh met her gaze, his face tear-streaked, the tip of his nose red. "It's a boy," he stated, grinning.

  Becky brought over their daughter and placed her too in Iris's arms. She stared down at her children, their children, and could not have felt her heart more full.

  The din of racing horse's hooves sounded on the gravel outside. Within a few minutes, the doctor ran into the room, bag in hand and face aghast at seeing that the Duchess of Penworth already birthed her children.

  "Your Graces, congratulations," he said, coming over to them and looking down at the children.

  Josh gestured to their housekeeper. "Mrs. Morris had it all in hand, but I thank you for attending us on such short notice."

  "Well," the doctor said, smiling at Mrs. Morris, “sometimes these things do occur quite quickly. Let me see how the duchess fares and the children, and then I shall leave you in peace.”

  The doctor ensured she birthed what he called the afterbirth and checked over the children before leaving them in peace. Telling them that he would prefer to sleep at the estate that night just in case any complications arose.

  Josh was more than satisfied at having the doctor so close by, but Iris knew she was past the most dangerous part of the birth. She felt well, and after removing herself to the duke's bed, in fresh clothing and her children bathed, she was safely and comfortably ensconced in their bed, their babies sleeping soundly between them.

  "I cannot believe we have two," she said for the hundredth time, unable to stop staring at what looked to be identical little faces.

  Josh ran a hand over his son's cheek and then reached down and kissed both their children's foreheads. "I cannot believe it either. How talented you are, my darling wife."

  "I do believe you had a role to play in my cleverness." Iris chuckled, leaning over for her own kiss from her husband.

  "We're a family now," he declared, so much pride and love basking from his every pore.

  Iris could not contain her grin. "I know, but with children or not, we were always a family. We're now simply a bigger one."

  "You are right, as always."

  “Talking of family, I do believe I hear your mama and sister Alice."

  Josh cocked his head to the side, nodding just as the door burst open and in flocked not only the dowager duchess but Alice, Elizabeth, Isolde, and Victoria, recently returned for a time from abroad.

  Josh gestured them over. "Come and meet our children," he said, the tenor of his voice proud and thick with emotion.

  Each sister took turns in kissing them both before gushing over the little babies asleep in the bed.

  "The future of the Penworth family continues. How proud of you I am, my son, and you, my darling Iris."

  Iris clasped Josh's hand, squeezing it in support. She glanced down at her small boy, the future Duke of Penworth, and his sister, already a lady by birth. Two little beings with such a plentiful and full life ahead of them.

  Alice handed them each a glass of champagne, where from, Iris had no idea but welcomed the bubbly, refreshing drink.

  Alice raised her glass. "To the Worthingham family and Duke of Penworth line. May we thrive for years to come. May our children prosper and have loves as grand as ours have been. Have full and happy lives."

  Iris raised her glass. "To family and love."

  The others followed. "To us," Josh said, sipping his champagne and reaching for her. Iris kissed him, her heart incredibly full and happy. To us indeed, she thought. To us all.

  I hope you enjoyed, Only a Lady Will Do, book five in my To Marry a Rogue series!

  I'm so thrilled you chose my book to read, and if you're able, I would appreciate an honest review of Only a Lady Will Do. As they say, feed an author, leave a review!

  If you'd like to learn about book one in my To Marry a Rogue series,
Only an Earl Will Do, please read on. I have included the prologue for your reading pleasure.

  Alternatively, you can keep in contact with me by visiting my website or following me online. You can contact me at www.tamaragill.com or email me at tamaragillauthor@gmail.com.

  Only an Earl Will Do

  To Marry a Rogue, Book 1

  The reigning queen of London society, Lady Elizabeth Worthingham, has her future set out for her. Marry well, and marry without love. An easy promise to make and one she owed her family after her near ruinous past that threatened them all. And the rakish scoundrel Henry Andrews, Earl of Muir who's inability to act a gentleman when she needed one most would one day pay for his treachery.

  * * *

  Returning to England after three years abroad, Henry is determined to make the only woman who captured his heart his wife. But the icy reception he receives from Elizabeth is colder than his home in the Scottish highlands. As past hurts surface and deception runs as thick as blood, so too does a love that will overcome all obstacles, unless a nameless foe, determined with his own path, gets his way and their love never sees the light of day...

  Prologue

  England 1805 – Surrey

  “You’re ruined.”

  Elizabeth stood motionless as her mother, the Duchess of Penworth, paced before the lit hearth, her golden silk gown billowing out behind her, the deep frown between her eyes daring anyone to follow her. “No. Let me rephrase that. The family is ruined. All my girls, their futures, have been kicked to the curb like some poor street urchins.”

  Elizabeth, the eldest of all the girls, swiped a lone tear from her cheek and fought not to cast up her accounts. “But surely Henry has written of his return.” She turned to her father. “Papa, what did his missive say?” The severe frown lines between her father’s brows were deeper than she’d ever seen them before, and dread pooled in her belly. What had she done? What had Henry said?

  “I shall not read it to you, Elizabeth, for I fear it’ll only upset you more, and being in the delicate condition you are we must keep you well. But never again will I allow the Earl of Muir to step one foot into my home. To think,” her father said, kicking at a log beside the fire, “that I supported him to seek out his uncle in America. I’m utterly ashamed of myself.”

  “No,” Elizabeth said, catching her father’s gaze. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. I do. I’m the one who lay with a man who wasn’t my husband. I’m the one who now carries his child.” The tears she’d fought so hard to hold at bay started to run in earnest. “Henry and I were friends, well, I thought we were friends. I assumed he’d do the right thing by our family, by me. Why is it that he’ll not return?”

  Her mother, quietly staring out the window, turned at her question. “Because his uncle has said no nephew of his would marry a strumpet who gave away the prize before the contracts were signed, and Henry apparently was in agreement with this statement.”

  Her father sighed. “There is an old rivalry between Henry’s uncle and me. We were never friends, even though I noted Henry’s father high in my esteem, as close as a brother, in fact. Yet his sibling was temperamental, a jealous cur.”

  “Why were you not friends with Henry’s uncle, Papa?” He did not reply. “Please tell me. I deserve to know.”

  “Because he wished to marry your mama, and I won her hand instead. He was blind with rage, and it seems even after twenty years he wishes to seek revenge upon me by ruining you.”

  Elizabeth flopped onto a settee, shocked by such news. “Did Henry know of this between you and his uncle? Did you ever tell him?”

  “No. I thought it long forgotten.”

  Elizabeth swallowed as the room started to swirl. “So, Henry has found his wealthy uncle and has been poisoned by his lies. The man has made me out to be a light-skirts of little character.” She took a calming breath. “Tell me, does the letter really declare this to be Henry’s opinion as well?”

  The duke came and sat beside her. “It is of both their opinions, yes.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “You need to marry, Elizabeth, and quickly. There is no other choice.”

  She stood, reeling away from her father and such an idea. To marry a stranger was worse than no marriage at all and falling from grace. “I cannot do that. I haven’t even had a season. I know no one.”

  “A good friend of mine, Viscount Newland, recently passed. His son, Marcus, who is a little simple of mind after a fall from a horse as a child, is in need of a wife. But because of his ailment, no one will have him. They are desperate to keep the estate within the family and are looking to marry him off. It would be a good match for you both. I know it is not what you wanted, but it will save you and your sisters from ruin.”

  Elizabeth stood looking down at her father, her mouth agape with shock and not a little amount of disgrace. “You want me to marry a simpleton?”

  “His speech is a little delayed only, otherwise he’s a kind young man. I grant you he’s not as handsome as Henry, but…well, we must do what’s best in these situations.”

  Her mother sighed. “Lord Riddledale has called and asked for your hand once more. You could always accept his suit.”

  “Please, I would rather cut off my own hand than marry his lordship.” Just the thought was enough to make her skin crawl.

  “Well then, you will marry Lord Newland. I’m sorry, but it must and will be done,” her mother said, her tone hard.

  Elizabeth walked to the window that looked toward the lake where she’d given herself to Henry. His sweet whispered words of love, of wanting her to wait for him, that as soon as he procured enough funds to support his Scottish estate they would marry, flittered through her mind. What a liar he’d turned out to be. All he wanted was her innocence and nothing else.

  Anger thrummed through her and she grit her teeth. How dare Henry trick her in such a way? Made her fall in love with him, promised to be faithful and marry her when he returned. He never wished to marry her. Had he wanted to right now he would be on his way back to England.

  She turned, staring at her parents who looked resigned to a fate none of them imagined possible or ever wanted. “I will marry Viscount Newland. Write them and organize the nuptials to take place within the month or sooner if possible. The child I carry needs a father and the viscount needs a wife.”

  “Then it is done.” Her father stood, walking over to her and taking her hand. “Did Henry promise you anything, Elizabeth? The letter is so out of character for him, I’ve wondered since receiving it that it isn’t really of his opinion but his uncle’s only.”

  “He wanted me to wait for him, to give him time to save his family’s estate. He did not wish to marry a woman for her money; he wanted to be a self-made man, I suppose.”

  “Lies, Elizabeth. All lies,” her mother stated, her voice cold. “Henry has used you, I fear, and I highly doubt he’ll ever come back to England or Scotland, for that matter.”

  Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat, not wanting to believe the man she’d given her heart to would treat her in such a way. She’d thought Henry was different, was a gentleman who loved her. At the look of pity her father bestowed on her, she pushed him aside and ran from the room.

  She needed air, fresh, cooling, calming air. Opening the front door, the chilling icy wind hit her face, and clarity assailed. She’d go for a ride. Her mount Argo always made her feel better.

  It took the stable hand only minutes to saddle her mount, and she was soon trotting away from the house, the only sound that of the snow crunching beneath her horse’s hooves. The chill pierced through her gown, and she regretted not changing into a suitable habit, but riding astride in whatever they had on at the time was a normal practice for the children of the Duke of Penworth. Too much freedom as a child, all of them allowed to do whatever they pleased, and now that freedom had led her straight into the worst type of trouble.

  She pushed her horse into a slow canter, her mind a kaleidoscope of turmoil. Henry, onc
e her father’s ward, a person she’d thought to call a friend, had betrayed her when she needed him most. Guilt and shame swamped her just as snow started to fall, and covered everything in a crystal white hue.

  She would never forgive Henry for this. Yes, they’d made a mistake, a terrible lack of decorum on her behalf that she’d never had time to think through. But should the worst happen, a child, she had consoled herself that Henry would do right by her, return home and marry her.

  How could she have been so wrong?

  She clutched her stomach, still no signs that a little child grew inside, and as much as she was ruined, could possibly ruin her family, she didn’t regret her condition, and nor would she birth this child out of wedlock. Lord Newland would marry her since his situation was not looked upon favorably by the ton; it was a match that would suit them both.

  Guilt pricked her soul that she would pass off Henry’s child as Lord Newland’s, but what choice did she have? Henry would not marry her, declare the child his. Elizabeth had little choice. There was nothing else to be done about it.

  A deer shot out of the bracken, and Argo shied, jumping sharply to the side. Elizabeth screamed as her seat slipped. The action unbalanced her and she fell, hitting the ground hard.

  Luckily, the soft snow buffered her fall, and she sat up, feeling the same as she had when upon her horse. She rubbed her stomach, tears pooling in her eyes with the thought that had she fallen harder, all her problems would be over. What a terrible person she was to think such a thing, and how she hated Henry that his refusal of her had brought such horrendous thoughts to mind.

  Argo nuzzled her side as she stood; reaching for the stirrup, she hoisted herself back onto her mount. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Elizabeth promised no more would be shed over a boy, for that was surely what Henry still was, an immature youth who gave no thought to others.