The Devil's Match (The Devil DeVere #4)(45)

“Diana!” he cried, bile rising into his throat. His gaze darted to the midwife with rising panic.

“She will be fine, my lord,” the midwife reassured. “She only needs rest. It’s never easy delivering twins.” As if on command, a chorus of shrill shrieks filled the air. Vesta and Phoebe stepped forward, each with a babe in arms.

“Twin sons,” they chimed.

“Twins?” he replied aghast. “Another set of DeVere twins?”

“I fear we’ll have need of another nursemaid, my love,” Diana said.

“Dear God, Diana, we’ll need a bigger house!”

“But are you not pleased?” she asked, a pained look clouding her eyes.

“Pleased? The words escape me.” He threw himself to the floor beside her bed, taking her hand in his and plying kisses to every knuckle before gazing at her with a twitch of his lips. “If children are truly a blessing from heaven, I should count myself the most fortunate of men, but then again, I wonder if this number may also be a penance for my past sins.”

Diana gave a soft chuckle. “Eight children! Whoever would have thought The Devil DeVere would become father to such a brood?”

Ludovic looked on with adoration as Phoebe and Vesta placed an infant in each of Diana’s arms. She offered a milky white breast to each eager mouth, instantly muffling their cries. “A devilishly hungry duo.” Diana gazed down at the infants with a tender smile. “I thought to call them Deverel and Dante.”

DeVere nodded his approval and smiled down at the suckling infants. “Between Hew and Vesta’s litter and our brood, we certainly have kept up our end in procreating the line.” Ludovic chuckled. “Mayhap even of repopulating Kent!”

“You both have, indeed, my love.” Diana flashed him a wry grin. “You do realize this greedy pair now makes an even twelve DeVeres? And if they follow in your footsteps at all, I fear they will come to be known countywide as the devil’s dozen.”