The Frenchman severed the birth cord, Danielle took the squalling baby girl. Eric gripped her hand, staring at her. “You are not going to die, my love. I have not finished with you,” he promised her.
She wanted to answer him, but she could not. The urge to push had come upon her again.
“Alors!There are two!” The doctor laughed.
“Push!” Eric commanded her again. She could not. She was so exhausted she might well have been dead. He lifted her up, forced her to press forward.
“Bon! Bon!”the doctor exclaimed, nodding to Eric. Eric let her fall back, cradling her shoulders. She closed her eyes. She could remember the security of those arms. Once he had held her against the world. And now they were very much strangers. They were enemies to a greater extent than they had ever been. But he was there, holding her. Because he wanted their child.…
But she had a daughter, and she was so grateful! The baby was alive and well and—
“A boy, Lord Cameron!” The doctor laughed. “A boy, small, a twin, but all his fingers and toes are there! He will grow! His color is good. He is fine.”
A son. She had a daughter and a son. Her eyes closed. They had said that they were healthy. Twins. Two…and both alive and well and with good color. She wanted to see them so badly. She couldn’t begin to open her eyes.
“Amanda?”
She heard Eric’s voice. She felt his arms, but she could not open her eyes.
“My lord Cameron, you have gotten her through, but she has lost much blood, and the time, you see. I still have work to do with her, and then she must sleep. My lord, Danielle has the girl. If you insist upon helping, take your son.”
“My son. Aye, gladly, sir! I will take my son!”
She heard Eric say the words, and then she heard no more.
She must have slept a very long time, and very deeply, for when she awoke she was bathed and clean and wearing a soft white nightgown and her hair was dried and tied back from her face with a long blue ribbon. She awoke hearing a fretful crying. She opened her eyes, a smile on her face as she reached out for her infants.
Danielle was with her, she saw, smiling grandly as she walked over to the huge draped bed with the two bundles. “Your daughter, milady, or your son?” Danielle teased affectionately.
“I don’t know!” Amanda laughed, delighted. They were both screaming away. She decided to let them scream for a moment, removing their bundling, checking out the tiny bodies. “Oh, how extraordinary!” She laughed, for her baby daughter had a thatch of bright red hair and the little boy was very dark. Both had bright blue eyes at the moment. She checked them both swiftly, counting fingers and toes. “Oh, they are perfect!”
“A little small, so we must take care. Lord Cameron was anxious to leave, but the size of these two has slowed even him down.”
“Leave!” Amanda gasped.
“We’re going home,” Danielle said.
“We—all of us?”
“Mais oui!What else?”
Amanda exhaled slowly, afraid to speak her fears. No husband would have taken his infants—and not his wife. Not even Eric.
Yet that did not heal the distance between them.
“You must try to feed both. Jeannette Lisbeth—the queen’s woman—says that you can hold both.…” Danielle came to her and adjusted the babies in her arms and her gowns. Amanda cried out with a little squeal of delight as her twins latched upon her breasts, tugging, creating a glowing sensation within her.
“They are so very small, however shall I manage?” She rested her chin atop one downy head, and touched a little cheek with her finger. “Oh, Danielle! Now I am so afraid. There are so many awful diseases—”
“Shush, and enjoy your children,ma petite. God will look after us all!”
Amanda smiled at Danielle’s statement. She took delight in the infants, touching them, smiling. But then she stiffened, startled and wary, when the door suddenly opened without a knock. She would have quickly drawn her gown together except that she could not.
Eric had come. He was really there. Tall, elegant this morning in dark brocade and snow-white hose and silver-buckled shoes. She wanted to tell him that she was glad he was alive; glad he had come. But she could not. The breach between them was too great. She had told him that she loved him once, and he had called her a liar. She would not make the mistake again.
And yet his eyes fell instantly to her breasts where the babies feasted noisily. He seemed to drag them back to hers.
“You might have knocked,” she told him coolly.
