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A son. Jordan began to cry and laugh at the same time as Analiese embraced her, both women emotional and relieved. But as Byron was handing the infant to one of the waiting women, Jordan was seized with another pain as fierce as the previous one that propelled her son into the world and she cried out loudly in agony and surprise.

Analiese stopped her laughing and was panic-stricken. “Byron! What is wrong?”

Byron, however, remained entirely calm. “Relax, Lady Analiese,” he said. “It is usually customary for the pain to subside after the baby has been born.”

“But the baby has been born,” Analiese reminded him as if he were completely daft.

His black eyes twinkled. “Not this baby.”

Analiese looked at him for a moment before the truth settled in. “Twins?”

Jordan moaned, twisting a little trying to ease her aching tailbone and body. “Aye, twins. Miserable little whelps. They are making me daft.”

“How long have you known this?” Analiese asked, shocked.

“Not long,” Jordan whispered, again gripped by the torrential forces of childbirth.

Her second son was born exactly ten minutes after the first, a little smaller, but quite lusty and pink.

While Analiese and the two other women cleaned and cooed to the screaming infants, Byron finished cleaning Jordan and gave her a few stitches where she tore. She was so exhausted that she could do nothing more than lie in her damp clothes and doze, but she could hear her sons crying and it was the sweetest music she had ever heard.

When Byron was sure Jordan was taken well care of, he moved to the door to give the news to the father. He could not keep the smile off his face. Lord only knew, he hadn’t smiled in years.

When he opened the door, William was standing in the doorjamb, arms braced on either side of the arch. He was leaning into his arms as if imagining them to be the door, pushing so hard to get in to see his wife that his hands were white.

His head came up from where he had been staring at the floor, the hazel-gold orb fixing on the tiny bald man. His face was emotionless but Byron knew he was wild with worry.

“Relax, Baron,” Byron said quietly. “Your wife is fine. As are your sons.”

William blinked. Then an expression of utter amazement crossed his face. “Sons?”

The old man nodded. “Two of the healthiest boys I have ever seen fit to deliver. Congratulations, my lord.”

Kieran and Deinwald, directly behind him, began to guffaw with laughter, which was picked up by the other men. William heard them but was unable to join in; he was dazed to the core.

“Twins?” he repeated in awe.

Byron stepped back. “Go in and see them.”

William woodenly stepped into the room as Byron slammed the door in the faces of the eager knights. With a push from the little physician, he entered the bedchamber and stepped to the edge of the bed, his attention divided between the two babes being bathed over on the table, and at his wife’s sleeping form.

He could hear the babes, yelling their little lungs out, and knew they were fine. Jordan, however, scared the hell out of him; she was as pale as a ghost.

“Are you sure she is well?” he whispered to Byron.

“Aye, she is,” he replied. “She is merely exhausted. Your sons were quite large.”

He let out a ragged sigh, moving to sit on the bed but not wanting to wake her, so he moved into the nearest chair. He had to sit down or he would fall down, so great his surprise and relief. His gaze never left his wife.

“Here, William,” Analiese said softly. “Would you like to hold your son?”

He tore his gaze away from Jordan’s face to look at the woman standing next to him with the bundle in her arms. Analiese smiled, coaching him as one does a new father as he reached up and took the baby into his arms. His touch was sure yet gentle, not at all timid, as if he had done it a hundred times before.

“This is your firstborn,” she said, stepping away.

He gazed down into the tiny red face, marveling at the perfection he saw. Tiny tuffs of blond hair peeked out from beneath the swaddling blanket and tiny, angry fists waved at him. With all of the swirling emotions he was feeling at that very moment, his first reaction was to laugh.

“Why are you so angry?” he whispered to his son. “You are shaking your fists at me already.”