He pressed his lips against the corner of hers. “I will not.” His voice came out sounding hoarse. “You are not going to be upset with me for living?”
She closed her eyes but felt her smile go wider. “I will not.”
“I’ll remind you of that in fifty or so years,” His laughter comforted her as the drowsiness became too strong to fight any longer. “When I’m hogging all the blankets, or my snoring is keeping you awake…
“Promise?” She whispered.
“Most assuredly,” he whispered back.
Epilogue
Exactly thirty-six weeks later, he paced along the corridor outside of their bedchamber at their country estate, listening to intermittent screams, each worse than the one before, and each taking at least a year off of his life.
“You are certain this is normal?”
Lillian’s stepbrother, the Duke of Crawford, as well as the Earl of Kingsley, with both of whom Christian had become well acquainted over the past several months, walked the long corridor with him. Crawford’s wife, Louella; her sister and Kingsley’s wife, Olivia; and Lillian’s mother were all inside the birthing room with Lillian, assisting the midwife.
Christian clenched his fists, feeling helpless.
“Nothing about childbirth is normal, if you ask me,” Crawford answered, providing no reassurance whatsoever. As they passed one another, Crawford handed him the half-empty bottle of scotch he’d brought to Winter’s Edge specifically for this occasion.
Kingsley stopped pacing and leaned against the wall. “I’m coming to think that perhaps women are much stronger than men.” He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “And perhaps smarter too.”
Crawford shot him a scowl but, Christian vaguely noted, didn’t contradict either statement.
Christian poured a long swallow down his throat and, hearing another cry from the room, ran a hand through his hair. “She sounds as though she’s being tortured.”
“Don’t think you won’t hear about it afterward.” Crawford sent him a twisted smile. “Louella reminds me every time we argue.”
And yet, Christian had seen obvious signs of affection pass between the duke and his wife. The duchess had birthed Crawford’s heir, but in addition to that, the couple had adopted four orphans within a few months of their marriage.
Another harrowing sound echoed from inside the room and Christian stopped his incessant pacing to stare longingly at the door.
“I can’t not go to her. How did you endure it?”
“Forced my way inside and refused to be ejected. I, however, don’t get squeamish when I see blood.”
Christian faced the door again. “Why the hell am I out here then?” He moved forward and grasped the latch. Before he could step inside, though, he was met with a chorus of angry female voices. “Out!”
Christian closed his eyes and retreated, though he left the door partially open, needing to hear her voice. “Lillian? Love? I would be at your side. May I?” He had not heard her voice amongst the firm command and would not make himself absent again unless his wife wished it.
“Will you? Christian? Please?”
It was all he needed to hear.
Stepping into the room, he rushed to her side, his heart breaking at the sight of her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and sweat-soaked hair. When he’d last seen her, as he pressed a kiss to her lips and wished her luck, she’d been reassuring and calm. She was none of those now. He lowered one arm around her and placed his lips on her cheek.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her mother, surprisingly enough, appeared somewhat relieved at his arrival. Her eyes appeared larger than normal when she met his gaze from her position near the window. Kingsley’s wife lifted her gaze and glared at him as she dabbed a wet cloth on his wife’s forehead. “Be prepared for a good deal of blood, Warwick. And if you get in the way, I’ll physically eject you myself if I have to.”
“With my help,” Louella added.
The midwife tutted. “Husbands belong downstairs.”
“Don’t listen to them.” Lillian gripped his hand but then winced. “Another one’s coming.”
Lillian squeezed her eyes shut and then her entire body tensed beside him.
