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"There you are, Tyler." Courtney swooped down on the child, scooping his wriggling body into her arms and cradling him against her. "Leave Tyrant alone, sweetheart. You've tortured him enough for one day, wouldn't you say?"
Huge jade eyes stared back at her. "No," her fourteen-month-old son replied solemnly.
"See what you're in for, Julian," Courtney teased, attempting for the umpteenth time to make her brother-in-law smile.
"What's taking that bloody midwife so long?" Julian demanded, coming to a screeching halt. "She's quick as a whip when it comes to throwing me out. Why can't she deliver my child half as swiftly? Why?"
Courtney's gaze filled with compassion. "Julian, Aurora is going to be fine. I promise."
"You haven't seen her."
"Yes, I have. I left her chambers not twenty minutes ago. And the instant Slayde gets back, I'll be returning. She's a bit tired out, but she hasn't lost one bit of her spirit. In fact, you look equally as haggard as she." Courtney indicated Julian's rumpled clothing and tousled hair. "I don't expect you to sleep, but why don't you at least sit down and rest for a bit? You've been awake and pacing the entire night."
"She was crying out—in pain," Julian continued, scarcely hearing, much less complying with, Courtney's suggestion. "I heard her all the way from the landing. Aurora doesn't cry out in pain; hell, she doesn't even whimper. Why is she suffering so much?"
"You won't believe me, but the results will be worth every moment of pain."
"You're right, I don't believe you." Julian glanced about restlessly. "Speaking of Slayde, where is he? The last I remember he was dashing out of here, half-dressed. And that was hours ago, in the bloody middle of the night."
"He should be returning any time now. He left as soon as Aurora's pains began so he could go fetch Mr. Scollard. Aurora wanted to have her oldest friend here to share this miraculous occasion." A smile. "I think this will be one of the few times Mr. Scollard actually agrees to leave the lighthouse."
"Scollard—yes, maybe he can help her. He always seems to know what to do. He knew this babe would be coming. He as much as told us so when he spoke of our wedding trip. I wish he'd been there during those last few weeks at sea. Aurora spent half the time with her head in the chamber pot, and I had no idea how to ease her sickness. Can you imagine what that was like?"
"It sounds like every one of my sailing voyages," Courtney returned dryly. "I'm always seasick."
"Not Aurora. We sailed from the Far East to India, to the Continent, and not once during six months at sea did she become ill. Not until those last horrible weeks. Prior to that she was as natural a sailor as she is an adventurer. There were a few times when she was the only one on board who remained unaffected by the elements. Twice we hit storms that would—and did—turn seasoned sailors' faces green. The entire crew was retching, begging each other to switch shifts so they could retire to the berth deck. But not Aurora. I had to literally drag her below; she wanted to stay topside and ride the rolling waves, feel the ocean spray in her face. The ship pitched, the waters surged—and Aurora reveled in every moment. Then suddenly on our way back to England, everything changed. She became tired, queasy—hell, she could scarcely eat a morsel or stroll the deck without becoming ill. I was frantic. I thought she'd contracted some horrible disease as a result of our travels. I couldn't wait to get her home and examined by my physician. Why the hell didn't I realize she was carrying my child? How could I have been so stupid?"
"Julian, Aurora herself didn't realize she was with child." Courtney attempted to soothe him. "'Twas a natural assumption on your part that…" She broke off, whipping around as a ruckus erupted at the front door: loud pounding followed by sharp words and a purposeful slam.
An instant later Slayde strode through the hallway, Mr. Scollard beside him. Spying his wife, Slayde headed toward her, pausing once or twice to glare over his shoulder at Daniels, who was wandering about in disoriented circles, mumbling gibberish under his breath.
"I know your butler's a bit unusual, Julian, but doesn't he believe in opening the door?" Slayde demanded.
"Daniels is a bit unnerved by Aurora's discomfort." It was Courtney who answered, lifting her face to receive her husband's kiss and giving him—and Mr. Scollard?
?a meaningful look. "So is Julian. He was just berating himself for being unaware that Aurora was with child on their journey home."
Slayde arched an amused—albeit understanding—brow in Julian's direction. "No one realizes the moment a child is conceived—with the exception of Scollard, who knows about it beforehand. Stop being so hard on yourself." Leaning over, Slayde ruffled his son's dark head, transferring him from Courtney's arms to his own. "I'll watch Tyler," he murmured for his wife's ears alone. "Go to Aurora; she'll want you there." In a normal tone, he added, "I needn't ask if there's any news. Mr. Scollard assures me there isn't."
"Well, of course there isn't," the lighthouse keeper inserted with more than a trace of indignation. "If Rory had needed me sooner, I'd have been here."
Julian paled. "Does she need you now?"
"No. You do."
"Very amusing," Julian muttered.
"I wasn't trying to be amusing. But this is one adventure in which Rory is faring far better than you." Mr. Scollard patted Julian's arm. "She's tired. And, as usual, impatient. But she's strong, she's healthy, and she's very, very determined. She and your babe will do fine."
A flurry of footsteps sounded from overhead, and a minute later Gin burst down the stairs, sweating profusely and mopping at his forehead. "Spirits," he muttered, brushing past Julian to stalk into the sitting room.
"Spirits—yes, good idea." Relieved to be of some help, Julian gestured toward the side table. "Instruct Emma to give Mrs. Merlin whatever she needs to ease the pain."
"Mrs. Merlin?" Gin snatched a bottle of his namesake, staring at Julian as if he'd lost his mind. "This ain't for yer wife. This stuff's fer me. My nerves are frayed." Without preliminaries, he lifted the bottle to his lips, tossing back five or six deep swallows. "All this waitin'—it's drivin' me crazy." Another swallow, followed by a frown as he studied the rapidly dwindling supply of gin. "I'd better stop guzzlin'. I promised Daniels I'd save 'im some. Don't know what good it'll do 'im, though. 'E can't stand still long enough to drink it. 'E's been wringin' 'is 'ands and whimperin' like a babe 'imself ever since Mrs. Merlin announced the babe was on its way. 'E didn't even 'ear the midwife when she arrived—she was knockin' on the door for ten minutes before 'e let 'er in. Not that I care. That ornery of witch should've been left on the doorstep instead of…"
"Gin!" Julian thundered. "You're supposed to be stationed outside Aurora's room in case she needs anything! Who the hell is watching over my wife?"
The valet blinked. "She ain't alone, Merlin. Emma and that wretched midwife Mrs. Peters are both there. Where the 'ell 'd ye find that shrew, anyway? She practically threw me out on my ear when I poked my 'ead in to see 'ow yer duchess was doin'—said somethin' about men only bein' good at makin' babes, not bringin' 'em into the world. She 'erself is guardin' that bloody door."
