Still holding the child to his heart, he returned to Penelope.
She was not yet out of the woods. She’d lost so much blood, and there was always risk of childbed fever.
Rose was laughing in relief and cleaning the other squirming infant. He was most definitely a he, Hugh realized, as a stream of liquid went flying into Rose’s face.
The maid was shocked at first, and then looked over at Hugh and laughed. She sobered, however, at the sight of the motionless child tucked against him.
And then they both looked over at Pen. Abigail had placed a cool rag on her forehead.
“She asked for you, the whole time,” Rose said softly. It was not meant as a rebuke.
He nodded. “I know.” He experienced a thousand regrets for his stubborn-hearted refusal to believe her.
He’d left her.
The maid looked as though she would say more and then gave him a weary smile. “They are yours, you know.”
Again, Hugh nodded. “I know.”
Abigail had been efficiently cleaning Penelope, but at this point turned to Rose. “Lay the baby by Penelope, Rose, and fetch a few maids. We need to get things cleaned up in here. We must change the bedding, and she needs a fresh and dry night rail.”
The mattress was most likely soaking wet.
“Prepare the bed in my chamber,” Hugh decided. “We will move her there.”
Abigail did not argue. Nodding in agreement, she continued tossing bloodied rags into a wastebasket. A sob escaped her. He had not realized until that moment that tears were flowing freely down the duchess’ face.
“I failed her,” she whispered.
He did not know what to say. Abigail had most assuredly done her very best to assist her cousin. “No one has failed her so much as I,” he responded.
Abigail swiped at her eyes. “You…” She gulped. “You saved her! I do not know what you did. The doctor said it was hopeless. And when I heard the horses, I nearly fainted in my relief.”
He’d forgotten that. Abigail had always been a fainter. “But you did not. You came to her in her time of need. You sent your husband to find me. If I had arrived even five minutes later, I fear…” He would not say the words. Penelope was unconscious. Her chest rose and fell weakly. She needed rest. She needed healing.
He would do whatever was necessary to help her regain her strength.
“Is she still bleeding?” His voice caught.
She’d lost so much blood. It was everywhere.
“A little. I’ve packed some towels against it.”
And then he could help himself no longer. He went to the other side of the bed, climbed up, and crawled to where he could lie beside his wife. He was aware that Abigail then quietly exited. He tucked himself beside her, his heart, as she fought for her life.
“I love you, Penelope.” His voice was barely more than a choked whisper. “I doubt you can ever forgive me, but I love you. And I believe you. And then I remembered. I remembered making love to you on Cortland’s damn leather settee.”
She didn’t speak, but he felt her turn her head ever so slightly.
“I will love these children till the day I die.” He swallowed hard. “The thing is, I want to love them with you by my side. I want to watch you teach our children to be little hellions, little monsters who will drive their governesses crazy. I want another chance, but I need you here with me. I need you to give me a second chance.
“You’ve always known what a fool I am. I want you to be here to call me a fool every morning. I want to read with you. I want to look at the stars with you. I want to make love to you, over and over again by the sea, until both of us are too old to get ourselves down to the cliffs. Stay with me, Penelope. Fight, my love, so that every day of my life you can tell me that you told me so.” Tears streamed down his face, and he could barely swallow around the sob caught in his throat.
He reached his free hand around to touch the living baby’s cheek. He’d stopped crying and seemed to be watching him intently. He had bright red hair. “Oh, my God, he’s beautiful.”
And then he lowered his chin to his chest so that he could take in the sight of his other child. The one he would never have a chance to love properly.
His breath caught. Had God entered this room and performed a miracle? For the babe was sucking on its fist, furiously, completely unaware of the astonishment its father felt.
