by Jane Feather
"I wish I knew who'd coined the phrase Mother Nature," she said in another moment of respite. "No female would have inflicted this on women."
She grabbed his hand suddenly, clinging to it as the pain tightened unmercifully, impossibly, gripped for an eternity, and then slowly receded.
"Jake's outside the door," she said, her voice weaker than before. "He needs reassurance."
"How do you know he's there?"
"Because he would be." She was lost again, and Nathaniel stood helplessly for a minute, and then went to the door.
Where did she get her strength from? It far exceeded his own at the moment. She was keeping up this banter to make himfeel better. And she was worrying about Jake, when he hadn't given the child a thought.
He opened the door and his heart went out to his son, sitting wide-eyed, scared, and uncomprehending, on the floor.
"What are you doing here, Jake?" he asked gently, closing the door behind him.
"I don't know what's happening." Jake stood up. "Is Gabby going to die?"
"No, of course not." Nathaniel squatted on his heels so that he was on a level with the child. "Everything's going just as it's supposed to. Gabrielle is fine, although she's a little cross because it's not very comfortable having a baby."
"My first mother died." Jake's eyes were big brown pools of anxiety and confusion. "She died because of me."
Nathaniel shook his head. "No, not because of you, Jake. You must never think that." He drew the child against him in a fierce hug. "And I promise you that Gabrielle is not going to die. She's too busy being rude to me." He drew back with a teasing smile, pushing the child's hair off his forehead.
"I want to see her."
"Not just now."
"Why not?"
"Because she's not feeling well enough for visitors. But as soon as she is, you'll be the first one she'll want to see. You know that."
Jake did know that. He chewed his lip for a minute. "She's really not going to die?"
"No. I promise you." Nathaniel stood up. "Now. i want you to go back to Primmy and stay in the schoolroom until I send for you."
"Can't I stay here?"
"No," his father said firmly. If Gabrielle lost control, the child would be terrified. And God knows, she was entitled to scream her head off if it would help.
"Off you go." He turned him with a pat on his rear and watched him walk with dragging step down the corridor.
He returned to the bedroom and was immediately aware of a tension in the atmosphere replacing the calm efficiency of before.
His heart was in his throat, his blood running cold. "Is something wrong?"
"No, my lord," the doctor said, rolling up his sleeves. "Everything's quite normal."
"Nathaniel!" Gabrielle's voice was urgent.
"I'm here, love." He took her hand.
She gripped it fiercely, and then her body convulsed and a cry as much of triumph as effort broke from her lips.
Nathaniel watched as his daughter fought her way into the world, a waxy, blue, blood-streaked scrap. There was a thin cry and the scrap turned pink.
"A daughter, my lady," the midwife said. "A beautiful baby."
"I don't think it's quite over," Gabrielle said with a gasp, her eyes startled.
"Well, well," the doctor murmured, turning back to his patient. "It seems she has a sibling."
"I don't believe this," Nathaniel murmured as his daughter's brother entered the world with a lusty bellow.
Gabrielle fell back against the pillows, her eyes closed. "Give them to me," she said.
"I'll wash them first, my lady," the midwife said, sounding shocked at this unconventional demand.
"No, you won't," Gabrielle declared. "You'll give them to me this minute."
The midwife looked as if she was going to protest, but Lord Praed moved to take the infants from her, even more of an outrage to proper procedure, as if it wasn't bad enough that he was in the room at all. With a sniff she hastily laid the babies naked on their mother's breast.
"You don't do anything by halves, do you, my love?" Nathaniel said, his eyes wet, a smile of wonderment on his lips as he gently touched the tiny heads.
Gabrielle chuckled weakly. "Aren't they beautiful?"
"They'll be even more so, my lady, when they're washed and dressed." The midwife reasserted her authority. "Now, come along, we don't want them to get cold, do we?"
Gabrielle relinquished her babies with a grimace at Nathaniel, who bent to kiss her.
"You are miraculous," he whispered against her mouth.
"Now, my lord, we need to tidy her ladyship up a little," the midwife said, gesturing toward the door. "I'm sure everyone's very anxious to hear of her ladyship's safe delivery of two such healthy babes."
"No." Gabrielle put out an imperative hand. "Jake must be the first to know."
"Of course," Nathaniel said. "I'll just sit over here and wait until you're ready to receive him."
Ignoring the sniffs of the midwife, he sat down on the window seat, stretching his legs in front of him, linking his hands behind his head, a dreamy smile on his lips as he contemplated his family. How had he ever thought he didn't want any more children?
The bustle continued around him for a half-hour, and then Ellie pulled back the bedcurtains and announced, "Her ladyship is ready for visitors, my lord."
Nathaniel went over to the bed. Gabrielle was propped up against piled pillows, and her translucent pallor blended with the embroidered white linen. Black shadows smudged the thin skin beneath the charcoal eyes, but there was life and laughter in her eyes and her hair had been brushed into some semblance of its usual fierce vibrancy.
"Fetch Jake," she said. "And I'm sure the doctor would appreciate a glass of something… to wet the babies' heads." An eyebrow lifted quizzically as she reminded him of his role.
Nathaniel shook his head ruefully. There'd been no joyous celebrations of birth around Helen's deathbed; perhaps it wasn't surprising he'd neglected the ritual.
It was easily rectified, however, and the doctor was soon appreciating a glass of the finest cognac from the decanter in Nathaniel's adjoining apartments.
Jake jumped to his feet as his father entered the schoolroom.
"My lord?" Primmy put down her tambour frame, her faded eyes both apprehensive and excited.
"All's well," he said. "Come, Jake. Gabrielle's waiting for you." He held out his hand and the child ran to him.
"But, Lord Praed? What… what…" The question went unanswered as Nathaniel left the schoolroom hand in hand with his excited son.
Jake dropped his father's hand as they neared the Queen's Suite and ran ahead, bursting through the door. "Gabby…"
He stopped in the doorway, staring at the bed. "There's two of 'em," he said with more indignation than pleasure.
"Yes, it wasrather a surprise," Gabrielle said cheerfully. "Come and meet them."
Jake approached the bed somewhat cautiously. He peered into the shawls Gabby held, one in each arm. "Which is which?"
"Well, this is your sister." Gabrieile indicated the left shawl. "And this is your brother.''
Jake squinted at the two wrinkled beings, commenting, "One of each."
"Just so." His father leaned over. "But don't ask me how you can tell when they're all swaddled like this."
"It's easy," Gabrielle said. "Jake's sister has a curl on her forehead."
"An' the other one's got no hair at all," Jake pronounced, hitching himself onto the bed. "Can I hold him?"
Gabrielle handed over the right-hand bundle, smiling as Jake struggled to accommodate the living shawl in his arms.
"Now, who's that?" Nathaniel strode to the window, opened onto the soft warmth of the July evening. Carriage wheels crunched on the gravel below.
"Georgie, I expect," Gabrielle said calmly, playing with her daughter's tiny fingers.
"But how could she have known?"
Gabrielle smiled, tickling the infant's chin. "We've always known when
important things are happening to the other. It's very mysterious."
"She has Lady DeVane with her," Nathaniel observed in mild resignation, leaning out of the window. "I can only imagine Simon and Miles and Lord DeVane are not far behind."
Gabrielle chuckled. "Probably not Lord DeVane. He's not too enamoured of babies. But I'm sure you're right about Miles and Simon."
Nathaniel scooped his younger son from the arms of the elder and said, "Run downstairs, Jake, and welcome Lady Vanbrugh and Lady DeVane, and escort them up here."
Jake blinked. This was a novel responsibility. He looked at the bundle that was his brother. Such a baby.
"Yes, Papa. Can I tell them it's two?" He slid from the bed and ran from the room before Nathaniel could answer him.
"Let me hold her too," he said, his eyes gleaming with pure pride.
Gabrielle handed over her own bundle and lay back, smiling. The extent of Nathaniel's pride and joy took her by surprise, and she wondered why as she watched him holding his children, waiting to present them to their first outside admirers.
"Gabby…" Georgie exploded through the door first. "Was it all right? I was so worried about you." Ignoring Nathaniel and his bundles, she flew to the bed and flung her arms around her cousin. "Look at you," she said between laughter and tears. "You look no more tired than after a day's hunting!"
Gabrielle hugged her tightly. "Believe me, love, I'd rather hunt."
"Yes, it is awful, isn't it?" Georgie straightened, feeling for her handkerchief. Misty-eyed, she turned to Nathaniel, who was reluctantly relinquishing his infants to the arms of Lady DeVane.
"Congratulations," she said, standing on tiptoe and kissing his cheek with a warmth that startled him.
He put an arm around her and hugged her with a fierceness that startled both of them.
"Well, if this isn't just like you, Gabby dear," Lady DeVane observed placidly, rocking the babies in her arms. "Always full of surprises."
"Quite so, ma'am," Nathaniel agreed, sitting on the bed beside Gabrielle, drawing Jake between his knees, rubbing the child's neck.
"Have you named them?" Lady DeVane asked, handing one infant to her eager daughter.
Gabrielle opened her mouth but Nathaniel spoke first. "Imogen."
"Oh, yes. For Gabby's mother. Very appropriate… Would you like to hold your sister, dear?" Lady DeVane bent her vague smile on Jake.
Jake wanted to ask how this lady could know which one she was giving him. She didn't know about the curl. But it wouldn't be polite to ask. He held out his arms.
"And what of the boy?"
"William," Nathaniel said quietly.
Gabrielle was suddenly very still. That was not a name they'd discussed.
"Is that a family name, Lord Praed?" Lady DeVane looked mildly curious.
"No," Nathaniel said. "It honors a lost life." He looked at Gabrielle, and she smiled her crooked smile, her eyes filled with love.
Guillaume's death had begun this. Her son would celebrate his life.
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