“It hurts.” Emily choked out.
“I know. I know.” Rose took up Emily’s other hand. “But you are doing so well.”
Emily yelled again, her vision blurry as she fought off the pain and tiredness.
“I can see the head!” Anna said. “You are nearly there your Grace.”
Emily could not muster the energy to make words, and settled instead for a strangled noise that seemed to reverberate around the room. She let out a scream, as Anna said, “one last push!”
She did as she was told, pushing with all the energy she could muster, swearing like a fishmonger’s wife as she did. And then it was over.
Luke was pacing in the adjoining room, the waiting element of the birthing chambers at Warren castle. Every time Emily screamed, he felt sure his heart would break in two.
“I do not even think that would be anatomically possible.” Rodger said, frowning after Emily’s latest curses came floating through the door. “Who knew Duchess Warren had such colourful language?”
“You have never tried to steal her pudding.” Natalie said sagely. “Although, I am learning some rather flavoursome insults.”
“Which you will not repeat.” Duke Emberly gave his sister a warning look.
“This is torture.” Luke moaned. “How did you manage it?”
Rodger shrugged. Marie had given birth in this same suite two months beforehand. “I was just as much a wreck as you are now, brother-mine.”
“I suggest whiskey. Or wine.” Duke Emberly walked over to the carafe of wine and poured out several glasses.
Luke took his glass with a shaking hand and drank deeply. Emily let out another scream, making him shake so violently that he spilled wine all over his front.
“Emily!” he called, but Duke Emberly laid a hand on his shoulder.
“We must be patient.” He said.
There was silence, and with each moment, it seemed to thicken into something deep and unpleasant. He had wanted Emily to stop screaming, but this eerie silence was worse.Something must be wrong.
He looked at Rodger, then at Duke Emberly. Everyone’s face was slowly draining of colour. Luke felt his heart sink. This was not supposed to happen. It was not supposed to be this quiet.
“Emily.” He whispered, tears pricking his eyes.
And then, the unmistakable sound of a baby’s wail shattered the silence into a million pieces. The sound made spiky shades ofamber and violet, lines of blue dots, but Luke barely registered the patterns.
All he could do was breathe. The door opened, and Jane poked her head out, massaging her hand, face streaked with tears, even as she smiled.
“Emily has asked that you join us, Duke Warren.” Jane gestured for him to come into the room.
Luke nodded, and took a deep breath. His legs shook, and he felt like a deer walking for the first time. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into the soft flesh of his palm as he entered the room.
Emily was lying in the centre of the bed. Her face was flushed, her hair slicked to her forehead, and clothes drenched with sweat. She looked utterly exhausted, but when she saw him, her face broke out into a smile that made his heart sing.
And then he noticed the bundle in her arms.
“Is that?” he choked, his voice raspy.
She nodded. “Come and hold your son.”
“My… My son?” Luke moved towards her and took the tiny bundle in his arms.
Through the bundle of cloth, Luke could see a very pink, impossibly small baby, with a tiny tuft of hair. His eyes were closed, and he made a small sound as Luke adjusted him in his arms.
“Hello, little one.” He murmured, breathing in the smell of his son. “Welcome.”
