Who was this man who unforgivably cheated Dominic’s father by snatching away the woman he loved? Was he a thoroughly despicable human being? Or did overwhelming passion destroy his life? Dominic was becoming more sympathetic.
“There I go, romanticizing like one of Olivia’s novels.” He considered himself as rational as the next man. He’d proved it to himself by remaining cool under fire during the war. But now? Perplexed by the change in him, he shook his head.
He rode through the gate and up to the farmhouse. Graves met him at the door, his eyes wide and dark with anxiety. “It’s my wife’s time. She’s been this way for over two days. I fear her strength is failing.”
“Is the midwife with her?”
“Yes. She says it’s a difficult breech birth.”
Dominic wasn’t sure what that entailed, but it obviously wasn’t good. “Have you sent for Dr. Manners?”
Graves rubbed his eyes. “Hours ago, but he hasn’t come.”
“I’ll send my footman to urge him to hurry.”
“Thank you. I wonder if you could do a further favor for me, Lord Redcliffe?”
“Of course.”
“Mary asked for Miss Jenner. Could you spare her for a few hours?”
“I’ll bring her to you.”
Graves visibly sagged, exhausted. “We would be most grateful. Miss Jenner is a calming influence.”
Dominic nodded. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”
Olivia calmed everyone except him, Dominic thought, as he galloped home.
At the stables, he ordered his curricle brought around. On reaching the house, he sent Jack to the doctor and went in search of Olivia. He found her in her office. His sudden appearance obviously startled her.
He smiled. “Did I alarm you?”
“Certainly not.” Her cheeks grew pink. She closed the ledger and put away her quill. Then she gazed up at him. “Is there something you require?”
Her flat denial charmed him, but Graves’s plight remained foremost on his mind. He quickly explained.
“Sam can prepare a basket of food from the larder so that Mary can rest and recover.” Olivia was up from behind her desk and reaching for her keys as she spoke. “I’ll fetch towels and linens and meet the footman in front of the house.”
She called him Sam. Dominic wondered how close she and the cook had become. “I’ll drive you.”
She nodded, then hurried away.
A remarkably short time later, she joined him in the curricle, resting a basket on her knees, a bag of linens stored behind. “The midwife is there?”
“Yes. There’s mention of breech birth. Is that serious?”
“Yes, it can be. Oh, poor Mary. The baby needs to be turned. Can’t the midwife manage?”
“Some complication. Doctor Manners has been called.”
He drove along the country lane in silence, mulling over something. “You call the cook, Sam?”
“Yes.” She frowned at him. “Do you disapprove?”
“No. I wondered how it came about.” He steered the horses around a sharp bend.
“Sam has told me a little about himself. He’s had a difficult time.”
