by Monica Burns
“Nicholas, you weren’t supposed to be home for another two days.”
“My bill won’t come up until the next session, and I had a feeling my wife might need me,” he murmured as he kissed her gently. “It seems I was right.”
Another contraction built up and lashed its way across her belly. She released a quiet sob of pain, and concern darkened Nicholas’ features. He quickly wrapped his arm around her waist to ensure she remained upright. The contraction lasted for at least a minute, and as the pain eased, Mrs. Beechum and Molly hurried through the doorway of the bathroom. A beaming smile on her face, the housekeeper immediately took charge.
“Molly run the hot water, we’ll need it soon. Come, my lady. Let’s get you into your nightgown. You’ll find it much cooler than your dress.” Mrs. Beechum glanced at Nicholas. “My Lord, if you would, Master Edmund is beside himself outside her ladyship’s door. He keeps talking about her ladyship going away. Would you mind reassuring him that all is well?”
Nicholas stiffened beside her, and his tension pulsed its way into her body. She grasped his arm, and smiled up at him.
“I’ll be fine. I’m just having a baby. I’m not going anywhere. Go to him. He’s just scared.” Despite her calm reassuring manner, Nicholas still appeared reluctant to leave her. She smiled up at him and nodded her head toward the door. With a grimace, Nicholas kissed her.
“Very well, but you’re not to go anywhere,” he murmured with a twinkle in his eye that vanished as soon as she gasped at the contraction taking hold of her. She heard Nicholas grunt with discomfort as her fingers dug into his arms. Mrs. Beechum dampened another hand cloth and gently wiped the sweat off of Victoria’s face as the contraction eased. His features taut with worry, Nicholas looked at Mrs. Beechum.
“Dr. Bertram?” The harsh words from Nicholas received a nod from the housekeeper.
“Jamieson sent Mickey to fetch the doctor as soon as Master Edmund told us about her ladyship.” Mrs. Beechum’s calm voice didn’t seem to ease Nicholas’ concern, and Victoria squeezed his arm more gently this time.
“I’ll be fine. Dr. Bertram will be here soon. Go to Edmund. I don’t want him to worry. I promise you the only place I’m going is to my bed.”
Green eyes narrowed at her, Nicholas hesitated for a brief moment then with a brusque nod he left her alone with Mrs. Beechum. With efficient speed, the housekeeper and Molly helped her undress. Victoria insisted on a quick sponge bath in an attempt to remove some of the damp stickiness on her body before she allowed the nightgown to be thrown over her head. The contractions were now about three minutes apart and Victoria was already wanting the pain to end.
§ § §
Victoria lay against the pillows, her skin pale and translucent from exertion. Sweat plastered her hair against her scalp, and with her eyes closed, Nicholas realized she was as pale now as she was whenever she had a fainting spell.
“You’re almost done, my lady.” Dr. Bertram hovered over her, his words cheerful and encouraging. “I can see the baby’s head now.”
“How in the hell did women survive without epidurals,” she rasped as she leaned forward and bore down at the doctor’s urging. Exhaustion was visible on her face as her contraction eased, and she fell backward into the pillows.
“Just a little longer, sweet witch,” he said. His heart ached at the obvious pain contorting her features as another contraction took hold of her.
“That’s easy for you to say,” she snapped with her usual fiery spirit before she closed her eyes in pain again.
Nicholas winced at the strength of his wife’s grip as Victoria closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Pushing herself away from her pillows, she appeared to ride a wave of pain until, with a loud gasp, she uttered a cry of relief and collapsed back into the damp sheets. Less than a second later, a new cry filled the room.
“It’s a boy, my lady. My lord,” Bertram exclaimed. “A beautiful, baby boy.”
“Did you hear that, my love? We have a son.” Nicholas looked over his shoulder at the baby then back to Victoria.
“I seem to recall telling you it was a boy,” she said wearily, but the smile on her lips was filled with a radiant joy, and Nicholas stared at her in wonder. This beautiful woman had given him not only her heart, but a son as well. Time and again, she had proven to him that love was worth the risk. His heart felt as though it would explode from the depth of his emotions. Afraid of hurting her, he captured her face in his hands and brushed her lips in a gentle kiss.
“I love you, sweet witch.”
“I love you too.” Victoria’s hand touched his cheek.
“Would the two of you like to meet your son?” Dr. Bertram beamed down at them as he cradled the newborn.
Victoria stretched out her arms and accepted the precious bundle. Turning the baby so that Nicholas could see their new son, she smiled. “What should we call him?”
“I hadn’t even thought about a name,” he murmured with a sense of awe. “To be honest, I thought he would be a girl.”
“Well, we have to give him a name,” she teased. Turning her head toward the doctor, she called out to him. “Dr. Bertram. What’s your first name?”
“Andrew, after my grandfather.” The doctor did not look up from the task of cleaning his instruments as he answered the question.
“What about Andrew Edmund Thornhill?” she asked as her finger stroked the baby’s cheek.
“Andrew Edmund it is then,” he whispered before turning his head. “Dr. Bertram, I take it that our son’s name meets with your approval?”
“You honor me, my lady…my lord,” Dr. Bertram stammered as pleased astonishment crossed his face.
“Would you please send Edmund in, Mrs. Beechum? I think it’s time he met his nephew,” Victoria said as she looked at the housekeeper at the end of the bed.
As Mrs. Beechum left to fetch his brother, Nicholas studied the glow on Victoria’s face as she stared down at their son. A sense of wonder surged through him as his gaze focused on the tiny hand wrapped around Victoria’s finger. Her sapphire eyes shining with happiness, she looked up at him then laughed as Edmund charged into the room.
“It’s a boy,” Edmund exclaimed with excitement. “I have a nephew. What’s his name?”
“Andrew Edmund Thornhill.”
“He’s got my name,” his brother said softly with an obvious sense of awe. Edmund leaned over the baby and gently tapped his head. “Hello, Andrew Edmund. We’re going to have lots of fun together.”
Blue eyes shining with happiness, Victoria smiled at his brother then turned her head to look at him. A mischievous smile curled her lips.
“Isn’t it about time you held your son, my lord?” A sensation not unlike fear flooded his limbs, and Nicholas hesitated as Victoria offered Andrew to him.
“Well, go on, he won’t bite you,” she said with a chuckle. “At least not yet.”
Gingerly, Nicholas took his newborn son in his arms and rocked him as he’d once witnessed his own mother do with Abigail so many years ago. A bittersweet longing assailed his heart as he wished his parents were alive to see their grandson. Surprised by the thought, he realized that in loving Victoria he had come to forgive his father. The insight shook him as he recognized how much her love had changed him and his outlook on life. Victoria brought out the best in him. She would until the end of their days together. A sudden icy premonition surged through him, but he crushed it before it dampened the joy he was experiencing with his new son in his arms. With the exception of his inability to find Reardon, his life had never been better. Victoria was the reason for that, and he thanked God for the happiness she’d brought into his life.
Chapter 34
Victoria strolled along the lake path near Goodman Cottage as Edmund charged toward the spot where he studied his turtles. Nicholas had returned to London two weeks ago, and she missed him terribly. It was one of the reasons she’d decided to treat Edmund to a picnic. She’d thought about bringing Andrew w
ith her, but Molly had convinced her to leave the baby behind and just enjoy a relaxing afternoon.
Just a little more than a month old, Andrew was a strong, healthy baby. Nicholas had proved quite adept at being a hands-on father, and she knew the servants were constantly amazed at his eagerness to help her with the baby. She was certain it had a great deal to do with his father’s disowning of Edmund as a child.
Her gaze followed her brother-in-law’s long-legged form as he prowled the edge of the small lake. She smiled as she recalled her brother-in-law’s first glimpse of Andrew. Wide-eyed with wonder, Edmund had fallen in love with his new nephew at first sight. Andrew seemed to know when Edmund was near, and would stop crying the moment his uncle held him.
A flash of movement out of the corner of her eye broke through her thoughts. A narrow country lane bordered the trees at the far end of the lake and she turned to see a closed carriage pull to a stop between her and Edmund. Something about the vehicle made her heart start to pound frantically. Glancing behind her, she saw the footman that had accompanied them was loading the pony cart. Fear welled up inside her as she saw two masked men leap out of the carriage and head toward Edmund.
As she cried out her warning, she lifted her dress and raced forward. Obviously confused by her shouting, Edmund stared at first Victoria and then the men bearing down on him. She and the two strangers were about equal distance from Edmund, but they were much faster. The men reached Edmund first, and she saw them place a white cloth over his nose. Edmund’s legs buckled, and the two men lifted him up between them, stumbling toward the carriage.
Fear for her brother-in-law’s safety overcoming the fire burning in her lungs, Victoria raced toward the carriage determined to reach the vehicle before it pulled away. Although she didn’t glance over her shoulder, she felt certain Jacobs was following. Occupied with placing Edmund on the floor of the carriage, the man outside the coach did not expect her attack. Frantic with fear, Victoria grabbed at the man’s greasy hair and yanked hard.
Yelling with fury, the man whipped around. Above his mask, Victoria saw glittering black eyes blazing with a cold rage. His arctic gaze froze her in place. The mistake cost her dearly as the man slapped her across the face. Stunned by the brutal blow, she staggered backward. As she tried to recover from the attack, the man grasped her by the neck and shoved her into the coach.
“What do you know, Silas, the bitch came to us. We didn’t have to go get her.”
Panic surged through her limbs at the man’s coarse tone, and in blind desperation, she kicked out with her feet in the direction of the voice. The grunt of pain she heard in response to her desperate move gave her a moment’s satisfaction as she realized she’d found her target. However, the moment became short-lived as someone clamped a foul-smelling cloth over her nose, and her eyes fluttered closed despite her best efforts to stay awake.
§ § §
Victoria woke in the dark, the cold dampness of the floor eating its way through her gown. Revulsion churned her stomach as the dank odor of decay assaulted her nostrils. High up on the wall opposite her was a window blocked by bars. From where she was, she could see the stars shining above her. How far away from home were they? Had the men gone after Jacobs? Had the footman been able to go for help or was he dead? She could feel her breast leaking slightly with milk, and she realized Andrew would be hungry. Fear knotted in her throat as she tried to understand what was happening. Why would someone want her and Edmund? Tears splashed down her cheeks as she tried to control her panic. Her heart pounding like a trapped animal, she jumped violently at the soft plea piercing the darkness.
“Victoria, where are you?”
Choked sobs filled the black cell and tore at her heart. In vain, she tried to see Edmund’s lean frame in the darkness. Anxious to reach him, Victoria stretched out her hand, but could not find him within reaching distance. She began to crawl forward to the sound of Edmund’s voice. The moment her hands touched the slimy, dank floor she was forced to swallow the bile that came up into her mouth.
She paused for a moment as she struggled to breathe slowly and calm herself. Edmund needed her. Muffled sobs sounded just in front of her, and she reached out into the dark again. She touched his back to find his lanky form curled up into a ball. Her voice soft, she pulled him into a protective embrace and whispered soft reassurances as she tenderly stroked his head.
“It’s all right, Edmund. Nicholas will find us.”
“I’m frightened, Victoria. I don’t like this place.”
“I know you are, sweetheart, but we’ll be fine. Nicholas will come for us,” she said.
Inside, her heart cried out for her husband to find them. As though from far off, she heard his voice shouting her name. Growing still, she again heard Nicholas calling out to her. Without thinking, her head snapped up. “We’re in here, Nicholas. We’re in here.”
At the sound of her cry for help, a small window opened on the door of the cell. “That’s enough shouting, your ladyship, unless you want to go hungry this evening.”
The harsh voice chilled Victoria to the bone. Shivering more from fear than the cold floor, she and Edmund jumped as the cell door opened. The sound of wood grinding against the stone accelerated her heartbeat. She flinched and saw their jailor drop a bucket of water onto the floor, followed by a wooden tray of food and two empty mugs beside the bucket.
Without speaking another word, the man left the cell, slamming the door shut behind him. In the near darkness, Victoria heard the sound of small animals scurrying around in the dark. Their nails scraped frantically against the slippery, dank cobblestone floor. Certain she and Edmund could lose their meal to rats, she scrambled forward determined to prevent the creatures from taking their food. Edmund followed her and together they hungrily bit into the meager meal of bread and cheese. When they’d finished, Edmund curled up beside her with his head in her lap, and softly cried himself to sleep. Left alone with her thoughts, Victoria stared up at the night sky praying Nicholas would find them soon. She refused to think of any other alternative possibilities.
Chapter 35
Present Day
Nick sighed wearily as he closed the front door of his town house behind him. Today was the tenth day Victoria had been in a coma. He wondered how long it would be before he lost hope as to her recovery.
“Never,” he said beneath his breath.
Walking into the kitchen, he set his bag of groceries on the bar and started to unload them. He’d only spent an hour with Victoria before he’d left her in Miss Willoughby’s care for the night. For the first time since the bombing he’d gone to the gym. It had been a tough workout, but he’d managed to release some of the emotions he’d kept bottled up inside him for more than a week now. The groceries put away, he fixed himself a sandwich then carried it and a bottled water into the living room.
Nick turned the telly on for a few minutes, but he couldn’t concentrate on the program blaring out at him. The sandwich he’d made tasted like sawdust in his mouth, and he dropped it back onto the plate as he turned the telly off. Immediately his gaze settled on the second volume of the countess’ diaries. Nora had no problem referring to the journals as belonging to Victoria. He on the other hand had found it extremely difficult to do so.
With a disgusted sigh, Nick picked up his plate and returned to the kitchen to dump his sandwich into the trash. He opened the fridge and was about to reach for a Fullers when he decided he wanted something stronger. The door of the fridge snapped shut as he pulled a bottle of scotch from the cupboard. He poured a little more than two fingers, added water then returned to the living room.
The first sip of his drink ran the flavors of orange and cinnamon over his tongue followed by a hint of chocolate. It was the first thing he’d had to eat or drink in a long time that had actually left him with a sense of taste. He set his glass on the side table before he threw himself onto the couch and stared at the wall where the second portrait of the countess was hung.
> Normally it hung in his bedroom, away from prying eyes. But he’d moved it into the living room last night. He wasn’t sure why, he just needed to see it whenever he was home in the evenings. The seductive expression on his wife’s face had made him the envy of every man in London. He’d rarely left her side for a moment, because she’d been like a flame every moth was drawn to.
Nick inhaled a deep breath as he realized he’d just substituted himself in place of the Earl of Guildford. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Inch by inch, he was being sucked into his sister’s firm belief that Victoria and the countess were one and the same. The minute he started believing he was—no, he refused to take that next step. With an exasperated grunt, he leaned forward and picked up the last journal.
I almost died three nights ago. If Nicholas hadn’t reached me in time, I wouldn’t be writing in my journal today. A Lord Darby came into the opera box ranting about some book he says he gave to Vickie. I don’t have a clue what’s in the book, but it has to be really important based on Darby’s behavior. I really thought I was going to die.
I don’t have any idea as to how Nicholas managed to pull me back into the box when I was halfway over the railing. He said I had another fainting spell. A doctor came and they gave me opium to help me sleep. If I’d known it was opium, I would have refused no ifs, ands, or buts.
Now things are even worse. I’m pregnant. I don’t know what to do. I know Nicholas won’t be happy, and I have no idea how to tell him. He doesn’t want children. Even if he believed I was from the future, I doubt he’d believe me about the odds of our baby being okay. I don’t even know if he loves me. But I do know I want this baby.
“Christ Jesus, I must have been an ass to make you feel so all alone. I should have said I loved you sooner.”