“The devil.”
Rosa eyes widened. “I think it is God you should be talking to, Papa. Mrs. Fields says never bargain with the devil.”
He kissed her cheek. “Go with Miss Thompson to the music room. Play all of Adeline’s favorite songs. I am sure she will love that.”
His daughters nodded and then scampered away with the governess waiting by the doorway.
Edmond stood as an anguished wail sliced through the room. Without hesitation he climbed the stairs and entered his chambers. The slight tang of blood reached him instantly. He waded through the darkness of memory and approached the bed. The first doctor to arrive to his urgent summons had been Dr. Greaves. He and the midwife’s heads were bowed closely together, and their furious whispering caused agitation to surge through Edmond’s blood.
With a force of willpower, he pushed his doubts and panic aside and concentrated on his duchess.
A smile tugged at his lips when she scowled at him fiercely. “What are you doing in here? I told you to go and be with the girls.”
He heard it. Her fear. The crippling unseen power, which had the teeth to render both him and his duchess powerless. “Hush now, nothing you say will remove me from your side.”
Despite the pain, pleasure lit her eyes. “Edmond,” she whispered his name.
The doctor glanced up, and he walked to Edmond. “May we speak alone, Your Grace?”
“No,” Adeline said as she struggled to sit. “Whatever you wish to say, Edmond and I will face it together.”
“Your Grace, I…I…the duchess is weakened and the babies are not coming.”
“Speak out, man.”
The doctor frowned toward the bed.
“Her Grace has had some minor but very worrying convulsions. Before her fall, your wife had been progressing quite nicely, and I did not predict any complications. Now her limbs are swollen and the babies have not turned.”
The room swam. “Babies?”
The midwife, Mrs. Agnes, stepped forward, her brown eyes warm and confident. “Babies, Your Grace. From what I can feel, one is already on the way, but he is in breech position. So he may need to be turned…but there is another baby above him.”
Edmond checked to see that everything was how he’d ordered it to be. Dozens of jugs with boiled water. Carbolic soap laid out on several clean towels. The fire kept at minimum, so the room was not stifling, and the sheets were fresh cleaned. Several doctors he’d spoke with had insisted it was important that hand washing and general cleanliness was the first order of the day. Beautiful baby clothes had been arranged together with fresh clean towels and bedding.
“Edmond.”
He strolled over to his duchess and laced their fingers tightly.
Fierce eyes clashed with his. “I am ready to throw both of them from my room. They tell me nothing, and their silence is not soothing to my nerves,” she gritted through clenched teeth.
Her anger filled him with mystifying hope. She was not weeping and muttering that all was lost before hearing their assessment. It gave him some reassurance that maybe she would fight with every breath in her body.
“We are having two babies.”
Her eyes widened, and she struggled to sit. The midwife rushed over and aided him in placing well-padded pillows behind her back. At that moment a contraction seized her, and she crushed his hand.
Sweat ran in rivulets down her hairline. Then she smiled at him, and the fear he saw in her gaze almost rendered him insensible. He despaired that she would feel such an emotion. He wanted to rage, and take every pain she felt and be able to give her comfort and love.
“Tell me,” she hissed. Her lower lip trembled, then with a willpower he admired, she flattened her lips, and determination glowed from her eyes. “Am I dying?”
Edmond cursed, low and dark in the quiet room.
The doctor sighed and came over. “There is a possibility, Your Grace, that—”
“Hold your damned tongue,” Edmond snapped, unable to contain the cold fury slicing through his veins.
He faced his love. “I have spent months scouring books, interviewing doctors on all matters relating to childbirth. The risk, the precautions that might improve the outcome, I was almost mindless in my obsession, and I questioned myself why I should bother to study the subject. Maryann had already died, so why would I ever need the information. But God knew he intended to give me you. A hope for a future…of love and peace, and he prepared me to help you in every way possible with our children. I didn’t know it then, but I damn well know it now, and if you utter another word or thought about dying…” His throat worked, trapping the roar of denial building in his chest.