A Devil's Touch (The Devil DeVere #4.5)(14)
"I-I think it's my waters. The membranes must have ruptured."
He regarded her, thunderstruck. "But I didn't…I took care not to… Sweet Jesus," he groaned. "What does this mean?"
She gifted him a tremulous smile. "I think it means, my love, that I am about to have your child."
"Bloody hell!" he cried. "It's not time! Ford said you were weeks away! Have we precipitated the event? Have the pains begun?" he demanded. "Ford warned me not to ouch you, but selfish bastard that I am, I wouldn't listen. Damn it all!" he gave her an anguished look. "What have I done?"
Diana's heart wrenched for him, for she had never seen Ludovic look more contrite. "But, darling," she reassured, "even Dr. Ford knows that childbirth is never an exact science. As to the pains, I don't think they have begun, but it's hard to say, as I was exceedingly distracted until this very moment."
He leaped from the bed and snatched up his shirt and breeches. "I must send for Ford post haste."
"I think that might be wise," she agreed. "But please don’t work yourself into such a lather, my love. It could be quite some time yet."
"Me? In a lather? Preposterous!" he replied and promptly donned his shirt backward.
Diana opened her mouth to laugh but clutched her belly with a sharp cry instead, as the first birth pain seized her, pulling her into its vice-like grip.
"Diana!" He came to her side. "What can I do for you?"
"Perhaps my…dressing gown?" she suggested between gasps. "And ring…for Sally?"
"Of course!" He helped her into the gown and then strode across the chamber for the bell pull. He turned back to Diana. "What now?"
"Outside of summoning Ford, there is naught to be done but wait."
"And watch you suffer?"
She gave a wan smile. "Such is the lot of women, my love."
"Bloody, bloody hell!" He rent his shirt in his impatience to remove and right it. "I feel impotent!” He threw the shit down with a growl and yanked another from the clothespress. Diana watched in bemusement as he paced the room. "Where the devil is that maid of yours?"
A soft rap sounded, and Sally entered with a bob. "You rang—" Sally's eyes grew wide at the sight of Diana holding her belly. "My lady! Is it your time already?"
"I'm afraid so. My waters have broken."
"Stay with her!" Ludovic demanded, stomping into his boots. "You are not to leave her side until I return. Not for a moment. Do you understand me?"
"Aye, my lord," Sally promised. "You can trust I shan't leave her."
***
Upon leaving Diana, Ludovic dispatched two running footmen—one to Dr. Ford's Mayfair residence and the other to the Westminster Lying-In Hospital. He then sought out some Dutch courage to settle his nerves, but his hands shook so badly that he spilled more brandy than reached the glass. In his exasperation, he took a long, burning draught straight from the bottle.
Until now he had never recalled a single moment of true fear in his entire life. He had known anger, frustration, and even dark despair, but never fright. Yet the look on Diana's face when the pains came upon her sent his heart lurching into his throat with stark terror. Had he endangered her? Or the child? How the devil would he ever go on if he lost her? He violently shook away that last morbid thought, forced a deep breath, and took another fortifying swig.
He reminded himself that Ned had sworn there was no harm in coitus and tried to reassure himself that this situation was purely coincidental, but still, his conscience stabbed and his heart raced. What if the bloody quack didn't arrive on time? The feeling of helplessness nearly enraged him. He strode back up the staircase with a look that sent servants scurrying. He burst back into the bedchamber, only to find Diana's beautiful face etched with pain.
He rushed to her side and roared at the frightened maid who held Diana's hand. "Don't just sit there, damn you! Do something!"
The girl's eyes watered, and her lips quivered. "But, my lord, there's naught to be done."
Diana released the long breath she'd been holding and his shoulders instantly slumped in relief. "Darling," she said, "I know you mean well, but you are not really helping at all. Perhaps you should go for a ride?"
He groaned. "I can't leave you, Diana."
"It was not a suggestion. I'm commanding you. Please. If you don't wish to ride, then perhaps the village tavern? I'll send a footman for you when there is news."
He looked to Diana, feeling completely at sea. How could she send him away at a time like this? "But what if—"
"Sally will send someone instantly should any doubt arise. Won't you, Sally?"
"Aye, my lady." She nodded emphatically and then her timid gaze returned to Ludovic. "My lord?"
"What?" he snapped.
"Perhaps me mum can be of assistance? At least until the doctor comes. She knows a bit about midwifery after delivering eight of us at home."
"That's an excellent notion, Sally," Diana replied. "Don't you think so, darling?"
"Yes. It is at that. Pray give me the direction and I shall fetch her myself."
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