Silence reigned for a moment before Lucien laughed uneasily. “You don’t mean that. You need to calm down and think this through, brother. I won’t have you hanged because of that bastard.”
“Don’t you see?” Adrian asked, his voice emotionless even though he felt as though the chaos inside him was literally ripping him apart. “I can’t live without her, Luke. If he’s hurt her... I would gladly hang for the chance to kill him.”
Morgan came up beside him and reached for a weapon himself. “Adrian is right. It’s time to make Roger pay for all the pain he’s caused. I should have done it back then.”
Adrian threw Morgan a surprised glance askance. He’d always thought it had been Lucien who threw Winters off the tower not long after they’d invented Prometheus. Prometheus’s first blood-red cape had been clenched in their stepfather’s dead hand. No one else had known where the material had come from, and he and his brothers had never spoken of it.
Had Morgan been the one to end that nightmare? Adrian never would have thought it. He’d been the least abused of the three of them. But perhaps he’d taken Winters’s life to protect Adrian and Lucien. Adrian wanted to ask him, but this wasn’t the time or place.
“Let’s go talk to Roger,” he said instead. “He has a lot to answer for.”
* * * *
ANNE SUDDENLY CRIEDout, and the shrill, pain-filled sound startled Vanessa so badly she almost screamed herself. She didn’t know how long Anne had been unconscious, but she’d almost given up hope she’d ever awake.
“Anne,” she sobbed, brushing some hair from Anne’s face. “Thank God, you’re awake.”
Anne just shook her head, her blue eyes hazy with pain. She clutched her stomach. “The baby,” she groaned. “It’s coming.”
“No!” Vanessa cried, cold terror pooling within her. “You need a doctor. I don’t know what to do.”
A choked laugh escaped Anne’s lips, though the situation was far from amusing. “They’re not going to let me have a doctor.”
Vanessa got to her feet and raced up the narrow stairs, pounding on the door and yelling for help until her voice was shredded. She rattled the doorknob, throwing her body against the solid barrier in an attempt to somehow break out, working herself into a frenzy.
“Vanessa,” Anne finally screamed, over the racket she was making. “They aren’t listening, or they’re not even there. But I need you. I can’t do this myself.”
Vanessa sagged against the door, fighting to regain her composure, and then slowly turned to face her sister-in-law. She regretted that she’d let her panic overtake her in such a manner. Anne had enough to deal with. She didn’t need Vanessa’s hysteria on top of everything else.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly descended the stairs once more and sank to her knees beside Anne. “What do you need me to do?”
Anne grimaced, shaking her head as she was gripped in a powerful contraction. Vanessa bit her lip, feeling completely inadequate. She knew less than nothing of childbirth. Her city-dwelling childhood ensured she’d never even seen a baby animal come into the world. She had only a vague understanding of the mechanics of it all.
At last, the pain seemed to pass a bit, and Anne regained her breath. She hastily gathered her skirt around her waist, baring her bottom half. “I need you to check and see if you can see the baby’s head.”
She seemed remarkably calm, and Vanessa could only chalk it up to the fact that she’d already had two children and therefore knew what to expect.
Feeling incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, Vanessa unfastened Anne’s undergarments, which were frighteningly wet and bloody.
“My water broke,” Anne whispered. “It’s too soon. I should have carried the child for several more weeks. It must have been the fall that started it.”
Vanessa grimaced at the memory of Anne somersaulting down the stairs. Who knew what kind of injuries her friend had suffered? She began praying as she hesitantly looked between Anne’s pale thighs.
Please, God, let Anne and the baby be all right. Help me to do the right thing.
To her utter shock, there was indeed a tiny, dark hair-covered head protruding from Anne in a most distressing way. “Yes,” she cried. “Yes, I see a head.”
Anne grunted and writhed around in pain for a moment, while Vanessa wrung her hands. At last, the contraction seemed to abate, and Anne fought for breath.
“On the next contraction, I am going to push,” Anne told her. “You need to catch the baby. Help guide it out. Can you do that?”
Vanessa bit her lip, horrified, but nodded. “Yes, I can do it.”
“We need a piece of cloth, something to wrap it in,” Anne said, her voice cracking.
Vanessa pulled up her skirt and ripped a piece of her petticoat.
Anne smiled a bit. “You’re so resourceful, Vanessa. You’re a good friend.”
