Never Less Than a Lady (27 page)

Louisa fought for a breath. “A breech baby? That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. As I said, the body knows what to do. An uncomplicated breech birth is no more dangerous that a regular one.”

“I can’t stand lying down like this,” Louisa said fretfully. “I have to sit up.”

“Then do so,” Julia said encouragingly. She took Louisa’s other hand. “As I said, a woman’s body knows what it’s doing. Hazel, help her ladyship sit up. We’re going to let gravity help this baby be born.”

Randall stayed by the door, glad that the bedchamber was large enough that he didn’t have a clear view of the bed. He’d experienced more than his share of battlefields and the crude surgery that followed, but he’d never seen a more harrowing sight than Julia’s fearless, utterly calm battle to save Lady Daventry and her baby.

Saving Daventry’s heir. The situation was fraught with irony, but he would contemplate that later. For now he concentrated on maintaining a stoic face and being ready if Julia needed him.

Benjamin returned with the towels and a full bottle of brandy. Randall opened the bottle and set it and the towels on a table beside Julia. He was tempted to take a swig, but he guessed she meant to use the brandy to reduce the chance of infection, as when she’d operated on him. She barely noticed him as she spoke soothing words to the countess. Randall kept his eyes averted, feeling it was wrong to violate Lady Daventry’s privacy.

He retreated to his position by the door. Benjamin was white-faced but calm. He must have seen a lot of life in a posting inn, and his mother had died in childbirth. He was a tough little fellow. But both of them flinched whenever Lady Daventry cried out.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be somewhere else? A birthing room is no place for men,” Randall said quietly. “The carriage can take you back to Ashton House.”

Benjamin shook his head stubbornly. “I want to stay with you.”

Randall nodded and draped an arm around the boy’s shoulders. Though this might be no place for males, he was selfishly glad for Benjamin’s company. The large posts of the bed blocked much of the scene, but Lady Daventry seemed to be kneeling, supported by Julia and the maid.

The door downstairs opened again and footsteps pounded up the stairs. Had the society accoucheur finally arrived?

Lord Daventry burst into the bedroom, his face haggard. “Hold on, Louisa, the physician will be here soon!”

Then he saw Julia by the bed and stopped dead in his tracks.
“You!”
he said venomously. “Get away from my wife, you murderous bitch!”

The countess screamed with blood-chilling force. Raging, Daventry started across the bedroom.

Realizing why Julia had asked him to stay and be ready to help, Randall caught his uncle’s arm in a steely grip. “Stop right here!”

Daventry’s head swiveled around and he gasped in shock to see his nephew. “I should have known you’d be here, too,” he snarled. “You’ve come to see that my heir dies, you and your devil-spawn wife! Well, you won’t succeed, damn you!” He tried to jerk his arm free.

Randall’s grip held firm. “Show some sense!” he snapped. “Julia isn’t the midwife you would have chosen, but by a miracle, she’s here. You should go down on your knees and give thanks that we decided to call. If your wife and son survive, it will be because of her.”

Raging, Daventry swung his free had in a savage strike at Randall’s face. Randall caught the other man’s wrist and twisted it to the point of excruciating pain. “If you want to help your wife, behave like a man, not a savage. And if you go
near
Julia, I will break your arm.”

Shaking with fury, the earl spat, “You have no right to keep me from my wife!”

Before Randall could respond, a cry sounded from the bed. This time it wasn’t a scream of agony from the countess, but the thin wail of a newborn infant. Daventry turned his attention to the bed. “Louisa?”

Randall released his uncle and followed the man across the room, ready to stop him if he threatened Julia. They reached the bedside together as Julia crooned, “Splendidly done, Louisa! The worst is over and your pains have been rewarded.”

As the maid helped the countess lie down, Julia patted the baby dry with a clean towel. The infant was bloody and rather small, but full of vigor and with an impressive set of lungs.

“My son? My son is healthy?” Daventry croaked.

“Congratulations, Lord Daventry.” Julia gave him a cool glance as she laid the infant in the crook of his wife’s left arm. “You have a beautiful, healthy daughter.” To Louisa, she said, “She needs your warmth and to hear your heartbeat, so hold her close.” The countess’s face was pale as snow, but she was radiant as she looked at her child.

Daventry gasped, his gaze riveted on the infant, who was unquestionably female. “A daughter?”

Randall caught his breath, stunned. He’d been convinced by Daventry’s certainty that this would be a boy. The earl’s breeding record had supported that, but as always, God got the last word. Once more, Randall was Daventry’s heir.

The countess glared at her husband defiantly, her arm tightening around her baby. “I know you wanted a son, but I have always yearned for a daughter. I will name her Sophia. If you don’t want us, I’ll take Sophia away to some place where you won’t have to see either of us ever again.” It was a clear threat.

Face working, Daventry reached out a shaking hand and touched the tiny toes on one perfect little foot. Sophia squeaked and pulled her foot away. There was awe on the earl’s face as he looked at his new child. “A daughter for Daventry,” he murmured. “It never occurred to me that I would have a daughter.”

“In the nature of things, girls happen,” Julia said dryly. “You said once that you’d only bred sons, Lord Daventry, and perhaps that was the problem. I’ve known women who have seen all their male babies miscarry or die young, while the females thrived. Some weakness in the male seed, I think. Sophia might not be able to inherit your title, but your bloodline will survive.”

Daventry brushed his wife’s hair with gossamer lightness, as if afraid she’d break. “Will Louisa be all right? She’s lost so much blood.”

“The countess will be very weak a while, but she should be fine.” Julia turned to the basin to wash the blood from her hands. After her hands were clean and dry, she began rubbing the countess’s belly with gentle firmness. “Hazel, watch what I’m doing so you can do this. Rubbing helps the womb contract. That will reduce the chance of any bleeding. You’ll be able to feel the difference.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the maid said respectfully. “Anything you want me to do.”

“You will visit us, won’t you?” Lady Daventry asked hopefully. “My husband won’t try to stop you. Will you, darling?” There was a definite edge to her final words.

Sounding as if he’d rather have all his teeth yanked from his jaw than have to thank Julia for anything, Daventry said reluctantly. “No, I won’t. I suppose I must be grateful to you, Lady Julia.”

Benjamin pressed close to Randall’s side, his eyes huge and interested. Randall was bemused to think that tiny Sophia was his aunt.

Reminded of why he and Julia were here in the first place, Randall said, “Your bloodline will have more than one stream to carry on, Daventry. Julia and I called today to introduce you to your grandson, Benjamin Thomas. Branford’s son, born a few months before Branford’s death.”

Daventry hadn’t noticed Benjamin, but now his gaze dropped to the boy. “You want to foist this boy on me by claiming he’s my grandson?” he growled.

His uncle’s continual suspicion and anger were damned tiresome. Randall said coolly, “There is no foisting involved. Benjamin is my foster son and his home is Roscombe Manor. He’ll start school at the Westerfield Academy in a week. He doesn’t need you, but Julia and I felt that you have a right to know your grandson.”

“He looks like Branford,” the countess said drowsily. “But nicer. Hello, Benjamin. I’m your stepgrandmother. I have a son not much older than you.”

For a long moment, Daventry studied Benjamin. His initial doubtful expression changed to intense scrutiny, then acceptance. “You
do
look like Branford. Just like when he was a boy.” The earl looked like a boxer who had received one punch too many to his head. He shook his head and managed a crooked smile. “I have unexpectedly acquired a daughter and a grandson on the same day.”

“My mother was a barmaid, but she was more of a lady than you are a gentleman.” Benjamin scowled at the earl. “I don’t know if I want you for a grandfather. You’re mean and you yell at everyone.”

Daventry’s surprise was so great that it took all of Randall’s control not to laugh out loud. The earl had met his match.

“Yes, I do yell a lot, and sometimes I’ve been mean,” Daventry said seriously. “But since I seem to be your grandfather, we should get to know each other.”

“It’s time everyone left,” Julia said firmly. “Lady Daventry needs her rest.”

The door opened and a fashionably dressed man with a black bag swept in. “I came as quickly as I could, Lord Daventry,” he said, concerned. “How is the countess?”

“The countess and her daughter are doing very well, Sir Richard.” Louisa covered her yawn. “Courtesy of my friend Julia, who is a midwife.”

Sir Richard Croft’s nostrils flared as if he’d smelled something nasty. “A midwife delivered your child? You are fortunate to have had a good outcome.” He stared suspiciously at Julia. “Who
is
this woman?”

“‘This woman’ is Lady Julia Randall, trained midwife and daughter of the Duke of Castleton,” Randall said, guessing that the society accoucheur was a snob.

Julia recognized that, too. A wicked glint in her eyes, she said to Lady Daventry, “Rather than hire a wet nurse, Louisa, I suggest you nurse Sophia yourself. It’s better for the baby and better for you.”

“Very well, if you say so,” Lady Daventry said obediently.

Sir Richard looked horrified. “Ladies do not nurse their own children.”

“Perhaps not,” Julia said. “But mothers do.” She bent and kissed the countess’s cheek. “Sleep well, Louisa. You’ve done a fine day’s work.”

She straightened and swayed a little. Guessing that she was exhausted, Randall put his arm around her. “I’ll take my wife home now.”

She leaned against him, looking gray. Under her breath, she said, “A good thing I haven’t eaten in hours.”

If she felt unwell, the sooner he got her home, the better. She would hate vomiting in this company. He nodded to the group. “Congratulations on your new daughter, Lady Daventry. Rest well. Come along, Benjamin.”

He and Julia and Benjamin were halfway to the door when Daventry said, “Wait. I’d like my…my grandson to stay this afternoon so we can get better acquainted.” When Randall hesitated, the earl said, “I’ll send him home before dinner.”

“Benjamin, are you willing?” Randall asked.

The boy shrugged. “I suppose.” But the spark in his eyes suggested he was pleased by his grandfather’s interest.

“Very well. We’ll see you at dinner.” Randall escorted Julia downstairs and out of the house. The street was quiet enough that the Ashton carriage had been able to wait at the curb. How long had they been in the house? Less than two hours, he calculated. Once they were inside and heading back to Ashton House, he asked, “Feeling better?”

She gave him a crooked smile. “I just needed fresh air.”

“How serious was Lady Daventry’s condition?” he asked. “To an inexpert eye, the situation looked dire.”

“Since I was there, all went smoothly,” Julia replied. “She was afraid because of her age, and fear is dangerous. Also…” she hesitated.

“Also what?” he prompted.

“It may be unfair to Sir Richard to say this, but if he’d been in attendance, matters might not have turned out as well,” she said reluctantly. “Males often prefer action to allowing nature a chance to do her job. Tugging at a breech baby can cause serious problems.”

Under her measured words, he sensed that the delivery could have turned fatal very easily. “Lady Daventry is very lucky to have you as a friend.”

“I was just doing what I was trained for. I hope Louisa does nurse the baby. It really is better for both of them.” Wearily she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad Benjamin was accepted by Daventry. He needs all the family and acceptance he can get.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Randall said wryly. “Since Ash and Mariah aren’t in London, let’s enjoy a nice quiet afternoon together in our rooms. You’d like a bath, I’m sure, and I’ll order up a luncheon.”

Julia smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

But the day was far from over. As he put his arm around her, he knew that the marital equation between him and Julia had changed.

But he wasn’t sure just how.

Julia’s blood-stained gown drew exclamation of shock when she and Randall entered Ashton House. While he ordered bath water and food to be delivered to their rooms, she glanced tiredly at the silver salver that held their mail.

Beside the letters was a small package from Mr. Rose, the goldsmith. Guessing that it had been hand-delivered, she opened the package. Inside was a velvet box containing the ring she’d commissioned for Randall.

She admired the twisting Celtic patterns, thinking that the ring was a good symbol for the complicated threads of their marriage. She closed the box and tucked it into her reticule, then took Randall’s arm and headed up the stairs.

The hot water arrived in their rooms just after they did. Julia loved the efficiency of Ashton House.

When the servants who’d brought the hot water were gone, Randall moved behind her to unfasten the ties of her gown. “Try not to fall asleep in the hip bath.”

“No promises.” Even though Elsa was turning into a good maid, Julia liked the intimacy of Randall’s fingers brushing her nape and lower back. “Birthing babies is tiring work.” And never had it been so tiring as today. Julia must be out of practice.

She moved behind the screen that concealed the gently steaming hip bath. Lady Kiri had created a special bath oil scented with the perfume she’d created for Julia, so Julia poured a few drops into the water. Every time she used the fragrance, she discovered new layers of complexity.

With a happy sigh, she pinned up her hair, then stepped into the bath, enjoying the exquisite welcome of the hot water as she sank down. The tub was large enough for her to immerse herself up to her chin.

Randall stepped around the screen. “Ash’s admirable cook heard that you just delivered Lady Daventry’s daughter, so she sent up a lovely concoction of chilled champagne and orange juice. I thought you’d like some.” He offered her a tall goblet of frothy orange drink. “To Lady Sophia. May she grow up with health and happiness.”

“To Sophia.” Julia accepted the goblet and sipped the tart sweetness. “Mmm…sensual pleasure doesn’t get better than this.”

He grinned wickedly. “Never?”

“Well, hardly ever.” Julia studied her husband with sultry pleasure. He’d taken off his coat and cravat and she loved the informal, bedroom intimacy of seeing him in his shirt sleeves.

He said in a conversational tone, “If you don’t stop looking at me that way, you will find your bath cut short.”

“I’ll be out soon.” She teasingly raised one leg out of the water, curving her foot like a dancer.

“Not soon enough!” He bent and kissed her forehead, then trailed fingers down the inside of her leg.

She gasped. “The water feels much warmer!”

“Don’t stay in so long that anything cools,” he said meaningfully.

She almost got out of the tub and followed him away, but there was no rush, and anticipation would make consummation all the more satisfying.

Julia returned to luxuriating in the warm, perfumed water and the champagne and cool, tangy drink. She must get the recipe for it.

Idly she glanced down at her breasts. The scars were mostly concealed by bath bubbles. Thanks to Randall, she was no longer repulsed by her body. She’d learn to accept that while the marks were ugly, they were part of her, and he didn’t find her repulsive at all.

Julia sipped again, thinking that she was having a very good day. Benjamin had been accepted by both Lady Agnes and the Earl of Daventry, a beautiful baby had been safely delivered, and she could look forward to an afternoon of mutual seduction.

Julia ran her free hand down her body. The bruises she’d received in the encounter with Crockett were turning interesting shades of yellow and green, but they didn’t hurt much. She noticed that her nipples were unusually sensitive. It must be time for her courses.

No
. She thought about the calendar and almost gasped aloud at the discrepancies she saw. There was only one likely reason.

But that one was impossible.

Yet when she looked at all the symptoms, the answer was the same. What should have been obvious had been covered up by her lack of belief, not to mention the considerable distractions of the last weeks.

Exhilaration bubbled through her veins like champagne. Though her heart was hammering, she stayed in the bath long enough to decide what she wanted to say. This would make all the difference in her somewhat uncertain marriage. Especially after today. She wondered how Randall felt about being heir to the earldom again, especially since he was unlikely to be superceded this time.

Her nerves knotted with hope, she climbed from the tub, dried herself, and donned her soft robe. Then she unpinned her hair and brushed it around her shoulders the way Randall liked. After slipping off her wedding ring in preparation for the scene she had in mind, she stepped out from behind the screen.

Randall was reading his correspondence in a leather upholstered chair by the bedroom window, but he set aside the letters and stood when she appeared. “You look as delicious as Aphrodite rising from the sea,” he said admiringly.

She laughed. “The advantages of a classical education, and why Benjamin should learn Latin.”

“Since he enjoys learning, he’ll be a better classical scholar than I was. I wonder how he’s getting on with Daventry.” Randall’s aquamarine eyes glinted. “Daventry and I will have to be civil to each other again. I’m not sure that’s good. It was easier when he disowned me and I didn’t have to deal with his moods.”

“Now that Daventry has two descendents to carry on his bloodline, I think he’ll be easier to get along with.” She studied the way light from the window gilded his hair and silhouetted his broad-shouldered form as he leaned back against the sill. “At his age, being angry all the time must be tiring.”

“I’m the heir presumptive again.” With the light behind him, Randall’s expression was impossible to read. “Is that a high enough rank to make this marriage worth maintaining? An earl is a better match than a mere country gentleman.”

Julia’s hand clenched around her wedding ring as his words splintered her jubilant mood like ice on a winter morning. Ice transformed to pure fire. Forgetting her carefully planned words, she snapped, “Alexander Randall, you are an
idiot.
Do you think I really care about whether or not you have a title?”

He was rocked back by her vehemence. “You should care, Julia. A great heiress can have any man she wants. Marriage to me offered you protection, but with Crockett gone, you don’t need that any more.”

She moved close enough to see his face clearly. Her anger dissolved. His bleak expression said more clearly than words that he believed no woman would want him for more than practical reasons. To be loved for himself was outside his experience.

She damned herself as she recognized that the conditions she’d demanded on entering the marriage had reinforced his belief. And she was no better than he was in this area. “We’re both idiots, Alexander. If you’ll excuse me a moment…”

With quick steps, she opened the connecting door that led to her private sitting room. It took only a moment to find the letter Randall had written that she could use in a Scottish court if she wanted a divorce.

Returning to the bedroom, she unfolded the letter and showed it to him. “Do you recognize this?”

“Of course.” He watched her warily, as if she were a rocket on the verge of explosion. “The letter you required me to write.”

She tore the sheet of paper into long strips with furious fingers. “I wish there was a fire in the fireplace so I could throw this damnable letter into the flames. Burning would be more satisfying than ripping.” She crumpled the ragged pieces into a ball and hurled them into the empty fireplace.

“Excuse me if I’m not quite sure what your grand gesture means,” he said carefully. “I don’t want to misunderstand.”

Julia sighed. “We are two very confused people, Alex. Worse than confused. Wounded. You worried that I want wealth and status. I worried that you would lose interest when I no longer needed protection. And once I saw how quickly you came to love Benjamin, I added the worry that you secretly hope I’ll seek a divorce so you can find a woman able to give you children.”

“I never secretly wanted you to divorce me, Julia!” he said sharply. “If our marriage ends, it will be by your wish, not mine.”

“You are the one who keeps talking about ending this marriage, not me.” She caught his gaze with hers. “But the fault is mine. Marriage isn’t about money or passion or even children. It’s a promise two people make to each other. A commitment, and it isn’t quite real if one person is keeping her foot outside the door.”

“Perhaps not,” he said quietly. “But if the door hadn’t been left ajar, you wouldn’t have married me. More than anything on earth, I wanted you to say yes.”

Julia felt tears stinging in her eyes. “Even after I told you I was barren. That was the greatest miracle of my life.”

“Benjamin found a place in my heart on his own merits, not because I expected him to hold our marriage together.” Randall’s mouth twisted humorlessly. “But I did hope that would be one of the results. Though we can’t have children of our bodies, there are other children who need a good home and people to care for them.”

“I hoped you would feel that way.” She smiled wryly. “And while I just said that passion alone doesn’t make a marriage, it certainly helps. Or is the lovers’ bond between us something that only I feel?”

“No.” His knuckles whitened where his fingers curled around the windowsill. “No, that bond is not one-sided.”

“Very well then.” Julia retrieved her reticule from the table where she’d dropped it and dug out the ring she’d had made for him. Cupping it in her palm with her own ring, she extended her hand, sunlight flashing off the Celtic gold patterns. “Marry me again, Alexander David Randall. This time for always, with no open doors. I am not leaving you. Not now, not
ever.

“And if you ever decide you want to leave me”—her eyes narrowed—“I have neither the intention nor the desire to commit adultery, so you’ll have no legal recourse. You will be stuck with me forever.”

He looked tense to the point of shattering. “Are you sure, Julia? I’ve tried very hard to fulfill my promise to let you go after a year if that’s what you want. It hasn’t been easy because from the first moment I met you, I’ve wanted to say, ‘Mine, mine,
mine!
’ If you commit yourself to being my wife, you won’t be able to change your mind because I will never let you go.”

“I’m sure, Alex,” she said softly. “Now and forever, amen.”

With delicate precision, he lifted the smaller ring from her palm and slipped it onto her third finger. “I love you, Julia, for better and worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” Taking her hand, he bent and kissed the golden band.

“And I love you, Alexander.” Silent tears were streaming down Julia’s face as she took the larger ring and slid it onto her husband’s hand. “That’s what we were missing. The ability to admit love, and to accept love in return.” She raised his hand and pressed her cheek into it, shatteringly happy that he would willingly wear her ring.

His arms came around her with fierce intensity. He was warm and strong and finally, she knew,
hers.

“I didn’t believe in love at first sight,” he said quietly. “So I couldn’t admit it to myself, much less to you. Pure cowardice on my part. Far easier to charge a French artillery battery than to put my heart in your hands.”

“You have a warrior’s strength, Alex, but I don’t think warriors are known for admitting to emotions,” she said with a little laugh. “As a female, I should have done better, but I didn’t.”

“You have a woman’s strength, which equals that of any warrior. Perhaps revealing one’s deepest emotion must be learned.” He rested his cheek on her damp hair, releasing a wisp of fragrance. “You radiate womanly warmth, which I’ve been seeking my whole life.”

“While I sought a man I could trust.” She exhaled softly against his throat, feeling utterly safe. “But brace yourself, Major Randall. I do believe that I’m with child.”

“Good God!” The dreamily romantic mood vanished as he caught her shoulders and held her away from him so he could look into her face. A hard pulse beat in his throat. “Are you serious?”

“Serious as only a midwife can be,” she assured him. “Mrs. Bancroft had told me that the beating and miscarriage I’d suffered at Branford’s hands had damaged me too much to ever have a child. She would have been the first to admit that human bodies are mysterious, but I never had reason to doubt her opinion. That’s why I didn’t notice the signs that I was increasing.” She grinned. “Like my short temper.”

“Since you slept alone for all those years, her belief wasn’t tested.” He spread his hand over her belly in wonder, his broad palm warming her all the way through. “We shall have to take care that Benjamin doesn’t feel that he comes second to any babies we may have. I want him to grow up stronger and more confident than we did.”

“There is more than enough love for him.” She laid her hand over his. “We must have made this baby the very first time we came together, at the inn in Grantham. I’m downright fertile.”

“What you are is a miracle, milady.” He scooped her up and carried her to the bed and laid her tenderly across the coverlet. Sitting next to her, he bent into a kiss, his lips clinging to her. “Mine,” he murmured.

He moved lower and nuzzled open the robe so he could kiss her breasts, his tongue teasing. “
Mine
.” Then he untied the sash and kissed her belly, which contained that pulse of new life. “
Mine!
”

Laughing again, she reached up to pull loose his shirt so she could stroke the smooth, taut skin of his back. “And you are mine, Alexander. Now take off these clothes so I can survey my property properly. Every scarred and beautiful inch of you.”

His face lit up with matching laughter. “With pleasure, milady. All that I have, all that I am, is yours.”

“As I am yours.” She pulled his head down for another kiss.

Finally, now and forever, she felt married.