A Devil's Touch (The Devil DeVere #4.5)(15)

"Aye, milord. The house be three lanes down from Jackson's Tavern, but ye can ask of most anyone where the Abbott place is."

He nodded. "Right then." He made it three strides toward the door and then spun back around on his heel. "Leave us, Sally."

The maid's forehead wrinkled. She looked to Diana for confirmation.

"Just for a moment, Sally," she urged.

The door had barely closed before he threw himself to his knees beside the bed, taking Diana’s hand in a desperate grip and plying kisses to every knuckle. He looked up at her with burning eyes as he pressed her hand to his cheek. "I said only hours ago that you have never disappointed me. I beg of you, Diana, please don't start now."

Her face went ashen before his eyes. "How can you say that! You know I have no control over the sex of this child."

"You think I speak of my heir?" He gave a mad laugh. "I don't care if it's a boy, a girl, or a bloody donkey! I only want you safe. I need you, Diana. You are my light, my sustenance. You are everything to me." He looked up to find tears staining her cheeks and rose to kiss them all away.

"I promise." She returned a watery smile. "I won't disappoint you, my love. Now please go."

***

Diana had never experienced such agony. Nine hours she had travailed, alternating between panting and screaming in her sweat-soaked bed, and now with every push, she expected to be torn asunder.

"Just one more, my lady," coaxed the kindly Mrs. Abbott. Diana barely heard the woman for the buzzing in her ears. She was so tired. So very weak.

"Sally, give her the leather to bite down on." It was an effort for Diana to pry her jaw open again to the saliva-coated leather strip. She marveled that she hadn't already chewed clean through it.

When the next paralyzing paroxysm of pain came upon her, Diana wondered if she might actually perish before pushing this baby out, but then she recalled her promise and the tormented look on her beloved husband's face when he departed.

"Now, my lady!" Mrs. Abbott commanded. "Bear down hard as you can—like a difficult shite!"

With his image burned into her brain, Diana drew in a great lungful of air and pushed for all she was worth, putting into the effort all the strength she could possibly muster…and then the world faded to black.

***

Ludovic sat alone in his library after having drunk himself into a near stupor. He had failed her. He had removed her to the country and hired the very best medical practitioner, thinking he had taken every precaution to insure the best of care for her. In his aristocratic arrogance he thought himself immune from the risks, but the footmen had returned empty handed. Dr. Ford was already engaged in a breech birth, and could not leave for fear of losing his patient. That was hours ago and he still had not arrived. Now Ludovic was paralyzed with the terror that he would lose Diana.

"My lord! You must come!"

At the maid's cry Ludovic lurched unsteadily to his feet. "Is it Diana?" he blurted.

Before the hapless girl could answer, he bolted past her to rush up the staircase where he froze in the doorway, his focus glued to the pale face and limp form lying in the bed. His vision blurred. The room began to spin until a piercing cry shattered his stunned state of consciousness.

"It's not what you think, my lord," Mrs. Abbott spoke up. "She only sleeps. She fainted away on the last push, but 'twas a good one," she added on a chuckle. "She had a difficult time, but all is well, my lord."

"Thank God!" He exhaled a prayer and for the first time noticed the bundle in the midwife's arms. He peered closer and felt his chest seized anew at the shriveled blue-tinged face. "Is it…is it deformed?" he asked with a feeling of dread.

Mrs. Abbott burst into laughter. "Nay, my lord! 'Tis quite a handsome young lad ye've sired."

He came closer to examine the tiny creature's features,, only to have them contort and let out a blood--curdling screech.

"My God! What's wrong with it?" he demanded.

Mrs. Abbot chortled. "'Tis naught a nice, plump teat won't fix."

"My son is hungry? Where's the bloody wet nurse?”

"Give him to me," a familiar voice whispered. Ludovic spun around to find Diana reaching out her arms. "I will not have my child at another woman's breast."

"But, my lady," Mrs. Abbott protested, "you are much weakened and need to rest."

"We will rest together after I have fed my child."

Still, the woman hesitated.

"You heard her!" Ludovic glowered.

The midwife advance to Diana but she held up a staying hand. "No," she said. "I want you to bring him to me, Ludovic."

"Me?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes. You. Don't you want to hold your son?"

"But of course I do, my dear, but can't we work up to this by degrees?" He recoiled in horror when the midwife held out the fussing child.

"Coward."

He shook his head in disbelief. "The devil you say!"

"I do say. Ludovic Henri Montford DeVere, you are a spineless coward."

He felt himself puff up in affront. "Very well then. Give me the child." He added for the midwife with an undertone of panic, "But please let us do so closer to the bed." His entire body trembled, overcome with awe when he accepted the now firmly swaddled infant.