Rules for Reforming a Rake (36 page)

Daisy breathed a sigh of relief as Lily hurried off. Now to her next problem, how to get Graelem downstairs. Rose capably took the reins by stepping to his side and placing a hand on his obviously tense shoulder. “Julian was a wretched mess when my time came, but I can tell you that I wanted him out of our bedchamber for my sake. First of all, I wasn’t pretty. Also, I was in a lot of pain and couldn’t let it out because I knew it would break his heart if he saw me suffering. I’m sure Laurel’s feeling exactly as I did.”

Laurel smiled at her husband. “I love you, Graelem. Please go. You can stomp and pace to your heart’s content downstairs, wear a hole in our ridiculously expensive carpets.
Please.
”

He said nothing for a long moment, then reluctantly nodded and let out a growl. “I love you, my bonny lass.” He placed a tender kiss on her brow. When he rose, Daisy noticed that he was putting delicate weight on the leg he’d broken last year, or rather, that Brutus—that beast of a stallion—had crushed last year.

Daisy pursed her lips in concern, knowing by his limp that he was in silent agony. He’d never admit it, though.

 “I could almost
hear
him ache for Laurel,” Dillie said in a whisper. “Love does that, I suppose. Of course, I’m too young and innocent to know about such things.”

So am I
, Daisy thought to herself, for she and Gabriel had not consummated their marriage, an oversight she meant to correct the moment he returned... assuming he wished to remain in the marriage and not seek an annulment.

 She shook her head and sighed, refusing to think about that awful possibility.

Dillie interrupted her thoughts. “Tell me what to do, Daisy.”

“I wish I knew. If only Mother were here.” But the Farthingale elders had gone off to Windsor, some grand affair at the Duchess of Lowesbury’s estate. Her father thought it best to continue with their plans even though her mother and Julia were still distressed about the Malinor debacle. Daisy hoped that a garden party in the countryside would calm them all down.

Laurel let out a gasp and sank back onto her pillows. “Sorry, the little imp kicked me hard. Caught me by surprise, that’s all.” Then she gasped again, this time letting out a grunt. “He’s going to be a big oaf, just like his father.”

As Laurel’s gasps and groans grew more frequent, Daisy’s concern increased. Where was that midwife? And where was Uncle George? “Maybe Rose had better take over up here.”

“No,” Laurel said, clasping her hand. “Not yet. Graelem will panic and come running back up here. Leave them downstairs a while longer.”

As silence descended—except for Laurel’s increasingly anguished gasps—Daisy began to fretfully nibble her lip.

Dillie was now kneeling beside Laurel, her own lips quivering as though she were about to cry. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to let her stay up here.

Laurel’s labor continued into the early afternoon and intensified by nightfall along with the storm raging outside. The midwife, Mrs. Peebles, had arrived hours ago and remained by Laurel’s side the entire time. So had Daisy, Rose, and the twins, although they had been consigned to the opposite side of the room and used as serving maids to fetch more water or blankets or other items needed for the birthing.

To Daisy, each passing hour seemed an eternity.

Graelem remained downstairs with their uncle George, still mad with worry although their uncle’s quiet assurance had gone a long way toward stemming his panic. In truth, his presence calmed all of them.

Daisy and her sisters had taken turns looking in on the men and often attempted to occupy Graelem’s attention, but as the hours progressed, the task grew harder. He refused to read, wouldn’t play cards, and would not engage Lily in a game of chess. “You’ll win,” he grumbled, “as you always do.”

If it hadn’t been for Uncle George’s solid presence, there was no telling what Graelem would have done by now. Daisy herself was tense and scared, though she would not allow herself to show it.

“Some babes are reluctant to leave the comfort of the mother’s womb,” the midwife said in response to Daisy’s questioning glance when she returned upstairs. “These things take time.”

“How much time?” Dillie asked, for Laurel had been struggling for almost twelve hours.

She shrugged her beefy shoulders. “I don’t know, lass. The babe will set his or her own schedule.”

“I’ve heard that the first is often the most difficult.” Daisy clasped her hands behind her back to hide their trembling. She felt useless and incompetent, and would have been terrified were it not for Mrs. Peebles and Uncle George remaining so close at hand.

“Aye, it’s true. Don’t worry, lovies. Your sister is strong.”

“Headstrong,” Dillie muttered as though to convince herself of Laurel’s ability to pull through. Everyone was worried, but afraid to admit it.

Mrs. Peebles eyed them with a surprisingly tender gaze, for she was otherwise terse and efficient. “Aye, she’s a fighter and that’s good.”

Rose moved to the hearth to stoke the flames, anything to distract herself. “Mother managed to produce five of us.”

Lily nodded. “Five girls and we were small. What if Laurel is carrying a son? He’s bound to be as big as Graelem, and we know what happened to...”

Daisy turned to her sister in alarm. “Don’t say it, Lily.” They all knew Graelem’s mother had died in childbirth.

“I’ll have none of that talk now,” the midwife grumbled.

Laurel opened her eyes and glanced about her bedchamber. “Where’s Daisy?”

“I’m right here. So are Rose and the twins.” Daisy drew the stool back to her bedside and settled on it.

“We won’t leave your side,” Rose assured.

Laurel eased back against her pillows, but her relief was only momentary. “Where’s Graelem?”

“Downstairs where he ought to be,” the midwife said. “I don’t allow men in the birthing room. They always faint and then where am I? Forced to take care of mother, babe, and big oaf of a father. No, keep the men downstairs. That’s what I say.”

“Uncle George is with him,” Daisy assured her, forced to whisper in order to keep the quiver out of her voice. “He’s in good hands.”

Laurel nodded, but she seemed disappointed that her husband couldn’t be beside her. “I suppose that settles it. Does he know that I’m doing well?”
Which she wasn’t.
“He’s so worried about me.”

Daisy took her hand and gave it a light squeeze. “We’re taking turns reporting to him.”

As the night progressed, Daisy continued to hold her sister’s hand and did the best she could to make her comfortable, but between the midwife’s orders to fetch this or that, and Graelem constantly poking his head into the stuffy bedchamber and bemoaning his helplessness, she knew something or someone was about to explode.

“I believe it’s our turn to keep Graelem occupied,” Rose said as she and Lily started for the door. “Just shout down if you need us.”

Daisy cast them a heartfelt smile.

“Good thing Lady Laurel has you girls,” Mrs. Peebles said. “Will you be staying on after the birth, Miss Daisy? She’s going to need your help.”

Daisy had never seen Laurel so pale. Her eyes were closed and brow beaded with sweat.

Though she tried to hide it, the midwife looked worried as well.

Laurel’s eyes fluttered open. She took Daisy’s hand once more, and Daisy had to stifle a gasp at how cold it felt. “How is Graelem? I teased him earlier, but I’m scared. The babe won’t budge. Graelem knows that I’m in trouble. He must be frantic.”

“He’ll be fine as soon as he hears his child squawking,” Mrs. Peebles said, handing Laurel a foul-smelling concoction. “Drink this, lovey. It’ll get the contractions started again and that’s what we want to see.”

After a few minutes, they did start up with a vengeance.

Graelem burst into the bedchamber upon hearing Laurel’s scream. “What the hell are you doing to my wife?”

Mrs. Peebles held her ground, standing up to face him and matching his stance, fists curled at her sides. “Get out, m’lord.”

Fear and heartache were etched on Graelem’s face. “No. This is my bedchamber. That’s my wife who’s suffering. Who’s...”
Dying.

“And I’m the one who’ll get her through it. Are ye goin’ to leave or do I have to chase you out?”

Rose and Lily hurried in behind Graelem, apologizing for letting him slip by, though Daisy didn’t think anyone could stop him, not even a regiment of the King’s finest soldiers. None of them were handling the chore of distracting the nervous husband very well. The more insistent the midwife became, the more determined Graelem was to stay.

Daisy felt that he belonged by Laurel’s side, but the midwife was experienced in such matters and she wasn’t about to contradict her orders.

Graelem stood as firm as a wall of bedrock until Laurel opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Sweetheart,” he said raggedly, coming to her side to kiss her brow.

“I love you,” she whispered. “My sisters have been by my side all day and haven’t eaten since breakfast. They could do with some food and a pot of tea.”

Dillie put a hand on his shoulder. “Graelem, help me put a tray together. I’m not familiar with your kitchen.”

A muscle in his jaw tightened. “We have servants for that.”

“Yes,” Lily agreed, “but it’s late and most of them have retired for the evening. It’ll be faster if we do it ourselves.”

“Nonsense—”

“Please, Graelem,” Laurel said. “I need you to take care of my sisters.”

He protested and grumbled and finally gave in because he wasn’t about to deny his wife anything. Indeed, if he could have eased Laurel’s pain by taking it upon himself tenfold, Daisy knew he would have done so in a heartbeat.

“I’m glad he’s gone,” Laurel said, collapsing against her pillows with a groan the moment he’d closed the door behind him. “This really hurts. What did you give me?”

“Something to help along your contractions,” the midwife said.

She let out a soft, writhing gasp. “It’s working.”

Was childbirth always this difficult, Daisy wondered? Was it possible Laurel would die? No! She put her hands together and silently prayed.
Please, don’t take her from us. Protect her. Protect Gabriel.

“The babe’s stubborn, but well positioned,” Mrs. Peebles said. “Your sister’s built to deliver a healthy child. She’s broad in the hips and strong as an ox.”

“I resent being referred to as an ox,” Laurel said, maintaining humor despite her obvious agony.

“Ye’ll get no apology from me, since I meant it as a compliment. Be grateful that ye’re not a frail, sickly thing.”

Laurel voiced no further complaint, her efforts once more concentrated on birthing, but as time wore on, there didn’t seem to be any progress, only pain. Daisy had just released the breath she was holding when she heard a resounding crash, then a yelp and a string of invectives that caused even the midwife to blush.

Daisy shot to her feet. “Oh, no! I think we have another problem.” She and Dillie rushed downstairs, following the lingering echo of shattered glass and the clang of a silver tray striking against the marble floor in the entry hall.

“Rose and I tried to help him,” Lily said, her gaze never leaving Graelem, who was flat on his back, his arms and legs sprawled, his shirt soaked with tea and covered in wet cake crumbs, butter, and marmalade. Their uncle was by his side, carefully removing Graelem’s boot to examine his leg—the one Laurel’s horse had landed on with its massive hooves last year.

Daisy had to take several deep, calming breaths because Graelem’s leg was in a very bad position and his complexion was now green. “Uncle George, has he broken it again?”

Lily’s eyes began to glisten with tears. “Rose and I offered to help him with the tray, but he insisted on taking it up himself... and he really ought to have let us help because there was too much stacked on the tray for one person to manage.”

Rose nodded. “We tried to tell him so, but this is his home, and neither of us dared to contradict him after he gave us that imperious glare that cuts one to the quick... though I did continue to warn him, because he can’t discharge us no matter how much we irritate him. We’re family, after all.”

Daisy closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Uncle George, what can we do to help?”

“Bring down my medical bag. I have it upstairs. Dillie, go wake Billings,” he said, referring to Graelem’s butler, “and tell him to wake the footmen. We’ll need to carry Graelem upstairs. Lily, wake Mrs. MacTavish. Her maids can clean up this unholy mess once Graelem is settled in one of the guest chambers.”

“A guest chamber, my arse!” Graelem struggled to rise, but the pain proved too great so he sank back on the cold marble floor. To Daisy’s relief, he seemed able to move his neck and back without difficulty. “I’ll sit beside Laurel. I want to be with her if she...”

He couldn’t continue, his fear of losing the woman he loved obviously outweighing the pain of an injured leg. Daisy knelt beside him. “Lie still, Graelem. Please. Laurel needs you to be strong for her. Are you dizzy? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Seven,” he responded, ending with a “damn it.”

She’d held up only one hand. Five fingers. “Lie still. You need to give yourself another moment before you—”

“Fetch me a cane.” Once again, he attempted to rise. “There are two by the coatrack in the back hall.”

George forced him back down. “I’ll kick you in that injured leg of yours if you dare to move. The midwife may call for me at any moment and I won’t be able to rush up there until I’ve finished fixing you.”

Graelem appeared ready to protest, but Mrs. MacTavish, his efficient housekeeper, rushed to his side at that moment, followed by Billings and most of the staff. “Och! I thought I heard a noise, but I never dreamed t’would be the master falling down the stairs!”

“I didn’t fall down the stairs. I merely tripped on the first step,” he grumbled. “My leg’s not broken, perhaps the ankle’s twisted at worst.”

“We’ll need bandages to securely bind that ankle,” George said, his gaze never leaving Graelem’s leg. Daisy knew what the knit of her uncle’s brow meant. There could be a break, only Graelem would never admit it.