Nicholas knew now what it was he wanted. A life at Severn with Daisy and their child. That was his perfect world. He couldn’t shake the fear that God wasn’t through punishing him yet. That God would think Severn was enough and take the child, or Daisy, or both. Nicholas couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.
Nicholas had faced a lot of enemies and never felt fear, because he had confidence in his ability with a gun. Because he knew he had planned for every eventuality and given himself escape routes in the event something went wrong. None of that experience was useful in this situation. His enemy was time, and Daisy’s body, which refused to yield up its fruit.
The doctor had said the child was ready to be born, yet it refused to make the trip down the birth canal. When you wanted the pit out of a piece of fruit, Nicholas thought, you squeezed until the pit popped out. He stared at Daisy, trying to figure out how to apply that principle to a pregnant woman.
He put his hands on Daisy’s distended abdomen, but his hands, large though they were, couldn’t apply pressure evenly.
“What are you doing?” Daisy asked curiously.
“I’m trying to figure out a way to get a pit out of a peach,” he said with a wry smile.
“You’d better go see Dr. Fitzsimmons. You sound a little crazy.”
“I’m perfectly all right.” Nicholas stood and stared at Daisy. “Aha! I see how it can be done.” He stepped to the head of the bed and lifted Daisy into a sitting position, bracing her back with his chest.
“Nicholas? What are you doing?”
“Squeezing the pit,” Nicholas said.
“Dr. Fitzsimmons,” Daisy called.
“We don’t need him, Daisy,” Nicholas murmured against her throat. “We can do this ourselves.”
“Do what?” Daisy asked in exasperation. At that moment another contraction overwhelmed her. She grasped the bedsheets and bit her lip until it bled to keep from screaming. This pain was longer than the others and hurt in a different way. “I think … I think the baby’s moving,” she rasped.
Nicholas could see it himself. The child was lower in her belly. “Dr. Fitzsimmons, I think you should come here.”
The contraction ended, and Daisy leaned back against Nicholas. “I can’t do it, Nicholas. I can’t. It hurts too much. And I’m too tired.”
“Only a little while longer, darling.”
“Easy for you to say,” Daisy snapped. “You’re not sitting where I am.”
Nicholas grinned. If she had enough strength to argue, she was going to be fine.
Daisy groaned. “It’s another contraction. Already. I’m not recovered yet from the last one.”
Nicholas lifted her again and forced her upper body forward, putting more pressure on the baby and forcing it down the birth canal.
Daisy’s groan became a guttural sound of effort, as though she were attempting to lift a cartload of hay along with the horses. “Nicholassss!”
“I see the child’s head,” Dr. Fitzsimmons said excitedly. “Only another push or two, Your Grace.”
Nicholas wiped the sweat from Daisy’s brow with a cool cloth and pressed it to her bleeding, chapped lips. “You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” he crooned to her.
“Shut up, Nicholas. This is all your fault, you know. If you hadn’t—” The tremendous pressure on her abdomen cut off Daisy’s tirade. Nicholas held her upright as she pushed, grunting hard as she worked to free her body from its burden.
She felt the pressure suddenly release as Dr. Fitzsimmons exclaimed, “The head and now the shoulders, that’s it, Your Grace. Ah!”
Though it was plain to Nicholas that the child was no longer inside Daisy’s body, there had been no sound from the other end of the bed. Nicholas felt Daisy clutch his hand. Both of them waited, not breathing, hearts pounding, for the child’s cry.
It didn’t come.
Nicholas had to force words past his swollen throat. “Is everything all right?” He knew the child was dead. How would Daisy survive a second tragedy? And then he thought of the bleeding that had occurred the last time. Was that what kept the doctor silent? Was he trying to stem the flow of blood?
“Doctor?” Daisy whispered. “Is the child—”
The doctor stood with the infant wrapped in linen and approached the head of the bed. “There were some other matters I needed to attend to before I could bring this little one to you,” he said.
Nicholas ignored the child and said, “Is Daisy all right? Is she … Is there …”
“Her Grace is just fine. Came through without any complications at all.”
Nicholas allowed himself to look at the child. “Why didn’t the baby cry?”
“They don’t sometimes. Just come into the world as quiet as you please. She was breathing just fine. I saw no reason to set her to squalling.”
“She?” Nicholas said.
“It’s a girl, Your Grace.”
“Oh, Nicholas, we have a daughter,” Daisy cried tearfully.
Nicholas peered at the linen-wrapped child the doctor was laying in Daisy’s arms. Her face was a wrinkly, blotchy red, but she had a wealth of black hair and stunning blue eyes.
“She looks like you,” Daisy said.
Frankly, Nicholas couldn’t see the resemblance.
“What shall we name her?” Daisy hadn’t been willing to choose a name before the child was born, because she thought it might jinx the baby’s birth. Now that she held her daughter safe in her arms, she turned to Nicholas for help. “You must have been thinking about this,” Daisy said.
“I swear I haven’t,” Nicholas demurred. “Why don’t you choose a name?”
“Beatrice,” Daisy said. “It means ‘one who brings happiness.’ She’s done that, hasn’t she, Nicholas?”
Nicholas rolled the name around in his head, then let it spill off his tongue. “Beatrice. She looks like a bundle of joy, all wrapped up like that.” He brushed his finger against the baby’s cheek, and Beatrice turned her face toward him. “What do you think, Peaches? How does Beatrice sound to you?”
“Peaches?” Daisy said, arching a brow.
Nicholas grinned. “I’m afraid she’s always going to be Peaches to me.”
“Where on earth did you get a nickname like that?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Nicholas said. “When you’re feeling stronger and more like arguing.”
“Am I going to want to argue?”
“It’s possible.”
“Your Grace, it would be best if Her Grace rested now,” Dr. Fitzsimmons said.
“Get some sleep, Daisy. Everything will be fine now.”
“Will it, Nicholas? Have you made a decision? About going back to America, I mean.”
“Not now, Daisy. I’ll be back as soon as you’re awake.”
“I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t know.”
But she could barely keep her eyes open. Nicholas merely kissed them closed and said, “Later, Daisy. When you’re stronger we can talk.”
“Don’t leave me, Nicholas,” she whispered.
Before he could respond, she was already asleep.
Nicholas turned to the doctor. “Are you sure she’s going to be all right? And the baby?”
“Mother and child are both fine, Your Grace. The child is a bit small, but she seems to be breathing well. And Her Grace came through the delivery more easily than I had anticipated.”
“Are you saying that whatever went wrong the first time won’t happen again?”
“I would have to say that the first birth was extraordinary, and I see nothing that would prevent Her Grace from having other children.”
Nicholas felt euphoric and realized he was happy more for Daisy’s sake than his own. She would want a lot of children. Now she could have them.
“Thank you, Doctor. For everything.”
Nicholas headed downstairs in a daze, where Colin was waiting with Charles and Priss. Priss had brought their son, Alexander, with her and was sitting in a cor
ner of the library with a blanket over her shoulder to conceal the fact she was nursing the child. However, the noises coming from under the blanket made it perfectly obvious what was going on.
“Is Daisy all right, Pa?” Colin asked. “Has the baby been born?”
“Daisy is fine, Colin. And so is our daughter.”
Colin let out a whoop. “Jehoshaphat! I’m a brother.” He took the few steps that brought him to his father and gave him a hug. Both men were grinning when they separated.
Nicholas turned and shook Charles’s outstretched hand.
“Congratulations, Nick,” Charles said. “How about a drink to celebrate?”
Nicholas bunched his trembling hands and said, “That sounds like a good idea.” It was just beginning to dawn on him that he had a daughter. And that Daisy was going to be fine.
“What did you name the baby?” Priss asked.
“Daisy named her Beatrice.” Nicholas swallowed the brandy in a single gulp. It burned like fire all the way down. It didn’t do a thing to steady his nerves, so he poured himself another.
“I suppose we’d better be going now,” Priss said as she buttoned her bodice under the blanket. “I’m so glad everything turned out all right. Tell Daisy I’ll be by to see her and Beatrice as soon as she’s feeling well enough for company.”
“Thanks for coming to help me through this,” Nicholas said to Charles.
The earl grinned ruefully. “I think you just wanted to know there was someone down here pacing the floor in your stead.”
Nicholas managed a smile. “Did you wear a hole in the carpet for me? I want to point it out to Daisy when she mentions having another child.”
“Damn near did.” Charles slipped an arm around Priss and headed for the library door. “We’ll come visit soon. Congratulations again, Nick.”
“Good-bye, Charles, Priss. I’ll send word when Daisy’s well enough for visitors.”
Nicholas filled his glass a third time and crossed to stare out the twelve-paned window, shifting his gaze outward to the pond and the forest beyond.
“There’s a ship leaving for America at the end of the month,” Colin said. “I plan to be on it.”
Nicholas didn’t turn to face his son. It was one of those cruel twists of fate that he had gained a daughter but was losing a son. “I won’t be going with you, Colin.”
“I didn’t think so,” Colin said. “I’ll miss you, Pa.”
Nicholas took a sip of brandy and nearly choked trying to swallow it over the lump in his throat. He turned and threw the glass at the fireplace, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. He continued his turn and found himself hugging Colin. He rocked his son back and forth in his arms, as though he were a young boy instead of a grown man.
There were tears in his eyes. Of relief. Of joy. Of bereavement at the loss of his firstborn to manhood. His fledgling was ready to fly free and alone. He released Colin at last and held him away so he could look at him.
“You’re crying, Pa,” Colin said in astonishment.
“I’ve been known to do so.”
Colin shook his head. “I never saw you cry before, Pa.”
“Everybody cries, son.”
Colin stared at his father and saw him for the first time as he was. Not always right. Not invincible. Merely a man with flaws like any other. He could be hurt. He could feel joy. It was all there on his lined and weathered face.
“I’ll come visit, Pa, I promise,” Colin said. “Maybe someday you and Daisy can come see me and Simp in Texas.”
“No maybe about it,” Nicholas said. “We will.”
“Daisy must be really happy, huh, Pa? I mean, that you’re going to stay in England.”
“She doesn’t know yet.”
“You’ve got to tell her, Pa. Right away.”
“I will, son. As soon as she wakes up.”
Daisy slept the night through and woke at dawn the next morning. She felt like she had been run over by a beer wagon. Her breasts were tender, her legs felt tied together, and her belly was cramping. She felt plain rotten. She closed her eyes, intending to go back to sleep, which seemed the best state to be in under the circumstances.
Then she remembered. Beatrice.
She leaned over and saw her daughter sleeping soundly in the crib beside the bed. The little girl had woken her once in the middle of the night to be nursed and then had fallen back to sleep. As had her mother.
Daisy’s mouth curved in a smug, self-satisfied smile. She had done it. She had borne a living child. A beautiful little girl. And Nicholas had been by her side to experience the miracle with her.
Daisy sat bolt upright. Nicholas had promised he would tell her his decision when she awoke. She pulled the cord to call Jane. She must look a fright. There was no way she was going to allow Nicholas to see her looking anything but her best this morning.
Instead of her maid, Nicholas appeared in reply to her summons.
Daisy covered her face. “Go away! I must look horrible. I wanted to be beautiful for you,” she wailed.
Nicholas grinned as he crossed the room and sat beside her on the bed. His arms slid around her, and he kissed her on the forehead. “You look wonderful.”
“If you like rumpled sheets,” she mumbled against his chest.
“You’ll always be beautiful to me, Daisy. Whether you’re rumpled or pressed.”
“Pressed. As in flat?” Daisy said indignantly. “That doesn’t sound very attractive, either.”
“There’s no pleasing you this morning, is there?” Nicholas teased.
Daisy broke into tears.
Nicholas took her by the shoulders and tried to get her to look at him. “Daisy? What’s wrong, sweetheart? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, truly I didn’t!”
“You’re being nice to me,” Daisy wailed.
“And that’s bad?” Nicholas asked, perplexed.
“I want my barbarian back,” she said, sniffling. “At least I knew that he wanted me.”
“I want you,” Nicholas protested.
Daisy shook her head forlornly. “If you did, you’d be yelling at me.”
Nicholas felt his temper slipping. He grabbed for it, but Daisy shoved it out of reach.
“You’re a brute and a beast. I don’t know why I ever married you!”
“So I’m a brute, am I?” Nicholas snarled. “You nearly died giving birth to a child I planted in you. I was trying to be considerate. I was trying to be kind.”
“Kind!” Daisy exclaimed as though he had offered her a snake. “If I’d wanted a kind man I could have married somebody else.”
“What the hell do you want, Daisy?” Nicholas roared.
“Oh,” Daisy said, pleased to see she had provoked him to incivility. “You, Nicholas. Just as you are. For now and always.”
She offered her mouth, and he took it like the barbarian he was, with all the hunger and longing he felt. She returned the favor, driving him crazy, making him want her as she wanted him.
Nicholas tore his mouth away, his breathing harsh and ragged. “Don’t try that again, Daisy,” he warned.
“What did I do?” Daisy said, eyes wide with false innocence.
Nicholas snorted, then broke into laughter. “I love you, Daisy.”
Daisy stared at him with her heart in her eyes, her mouth half open with the words she had been about to speak, which had caught in her throat. It was the first time Nicholas had ever declared his love for her aloud. And about time, Daisy thought. She crossed her arms over her chest and demanded, “All right, Nicholas. So you love me. Now what?”
“What?” Nicholas was caught totally off guard by Daisy’s attack. “What more do you want from me, Daisy?”
“I want to hear you say it. That you’re going to stay at Severn and raise cattle and hay and babies with me.”
Nicholas grinned. “Oh, is that all? Well, of course I am.”
“Of course you are? How long ago did you make this decision?” Daisy asked.
&n
bsp; “The first day I laid eyes on you.”
“Oh. You …”
“Barbarian?” he offered in a husky voice.
Daisy’s eyes welled with tears. “I do love you, Nicholas. So very much.”
The duke pulled Daisy into his lap and held her close. “I promise to do something truly primitive as soon as you’re able,” he murmured in her ear.
“Something savage and uncivilized?”
“Something wild and wanton.”
“Oh,” Daisy said with a sigh. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Wonderful?” Nicholas said with a chuckle.
“Oh, yes.” Daisy grinned. “You see, I’ve developed quite an appreciation for barbarians.”
The duke slowly lowered his mouth to meet Daisy’s as he did his best to live up to her expectations.
Epilogue
Simp took one of the two diaper pins from his mouth where he had put them for safekeeping and used it to secure the right side of the clean diaper he was putting on Colin’s son. “Just be a minute here, young’un, and you’ll be right as rain on a desert,” he mumbled over the other pin. Then he retrieved the second pin and caught up the cotton on the other side. The baby waved his arms and legs, making the chore more difficult. “Settle down there a minute, Brody, and let me finish.”
When he was done, Simp picked the child up and held him high, waggling him from side to side in his hands.
The baby grinned and gurgled.
Simp grinned back. “Look just like your pa and your grandpa both, young’un. Charm oozin’ from ya every whichaway.”
“Simp?”
Simp turned and greeted Colin’s mother as she entered the bedroom he and Colin had built onto the ranch house outside Fredericksburg especially for the baby. She was a purty little gal, full of grit and gumption. Twisted Colin ’round her finger, but no more’n he thought a wife ought to. “Just changin’ the boy,” he said.
Simp handed the black-haired, blue-eyed baby over to his mother and watched her hug him.
“He’s growing so fast! I can hardly believe he’ll be a year old tomorrow,” Roanna said.
“I’ll just be takin’ myself off. Got some supper to get started,” Simp said.
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