“Oh. Ohhhhhh.” She looked up at him.
“She has agreed to be my wife,” he explained.
The duchess smiled. A wistful look of longing crossing her features and he suddenly felt like a heel for bringing it up at a time when she would be bringing her first child into the world alone.
“My apologies, Your Grace. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
“Don’t apologize for being in love with my best friend, Forrester. I am very happy the two of you have finally acknowledged your feelings. It also explains the state of her hair and her gown.”
“Once a scandal, always a scandal,” Phoebe said as she opened the doors to the duchess’s bedchamber.
The duchess and Phoebe could have been sisters. Both had long, coppery hair that captured a man’s attention as soon as they walked into the room. With golden flecks glinting in the candlelight, it was as if their curls were burnished with fire. Before the duchess had become heavy with child, her tall, lithe form and quiet demeanor gave off an air of fragility despite her inner strength. Phoebe was the exact opposite, petite in nature, with voluptuous curves and a personality that embodied her sexuality.
Her lady’s maid, Mary, scurried into the room after them, and Phoebe directed her as if she were the lady of the castle, a role he had seen her play countless times before. “The duchess has gone into labor. I believe we have prepared for this momentous occasion. Please start stripping the bedclothing.”
The only other man in the castle, Paddington appeared at his side. “Can I be of assistance, Your Grace?” The elderly man was more of a grandfather figure to the duchess than a servant in her employ. The concern on his face was evidence of the love they shared.
The duchess, however, was unable to respond as she stiffened and began breathing heavily in his arms.
“The midwife should be here at any moment, Iseabail,” Phoebe assured her.
“Please don’t leave me, Phoebe.” The duchess reached out for Phoebe’s hand and Joshua had to stop for the women to hold hands. It would’ve been a touching moment, if he wasn’t scared out of his wits that he would drop the awkwardly-shaped duchess. He needed to get her to the bed before another contraction came over her.
As if he thought the birth pang into existence, he felt the quivering of her stomach right before the duchess began yelling, “Oh my God, this child is going to kill me. Is this what it’s always like? Do all women go through this amount of pain? I can’t do this.”
Joshua felt her stomach seizing and wondered how anyone could deal with the unrelenting violence traveling through their body. If he didn’t put her down soon, he wasn’t certain he could stomach what was to come next. “You will be fine, Duchess. You are a strong woman, you can do this,” he said.
“How many…births have you attended, Mr. Forrester?” The duchess was now looking at him, and he wished he hadn’t said a word because he wasn’t certain his face didn’t show the panic seeping in.
“I have known many women who have given birth to children.”
A snort echoed through the bedchamber, and he glanced over at the source and found Phoebe openly smiling at him. It was the first time she had shown any emotion since they’d entered the castle. “Spoken like a true solicitor. I will take that response as meaning you have been present for exactly zero childbirths.”
“My sister has given birth to three boys.” His tone was defensive to his own ears.
“I never knew you had a sister. I just assumed you were an only child.”
“Can we please focus on getting me into the bed? I have humiliated myself enough for one day,” the duchess panted.
He began to lay her down on the bed, but she stopped him.
“Not in here. I should have Nithesdale’s baby where he took his last breath.”
Joshua looked down at the duchess and asked, “Are you certain?”
She took two quick breaths and nodded her head, too caught up in the contraction to respond verbally. Phoebe ran to the adjoining door and opened it to duke’s bedchamber. The room looked exactly as it had the last time Joshua had been in the castle the month the duke had passed. The duchess had once compared the bedchamber to theGallerie des Glacesat Versailles. Although she had never been to the French court, her mother had, and had described the Hall of Mirrors to her daughters in great detail.
The opulent chandelier in the ducal chamber glittered like a sky full of diamonds as it reflected light coming through the windows. The large golden bed had the Nithesdale crest embroidered on the deep blue canopy. Matching curtains hung over the floor-to-ceiling windows and were tied back with gold cords. Two gilded chairs sat in front of the fireplace where the duke and duchess used to sit and play chess before the fire. The board had been left with the pieces in position from the last game they had not completed prior to the duke’s death. Joshua had always wondered if she would finish the game, but a silver box sat in the middle of the board, the black king guarding one side and the white queen on the other. Clearly, she had not. It was another piece of evidence to the duchess’s dedication to her husband.
Paddington followed them into the room, the elderly butler breathing harder than the duchess. “Your Grace, if I may, the midwife is arriving as I speak. Mrs. Hagerty has started boiling water and the maids will be bringing in clean bed linens.”
Phoebe pushed forward past Paddington and began pulling the expensive crested bed linens off the large bed with the assistance of Mary. Joshua then set the duchess down on the edge and she looked up at him with a look of appreciation and embarrassment. “If a duchess can be brought low, then I have certainly sunk into the depths today. I apologize, Forrester.”
Joshua looked down at the soiled front of his best suit and couldn’t help but smile. “I would wager that I am the first solicitor to ever participate in the birth of a peer, and I have the evidence to prove it.”
“As I said, I ruined your suit. Any subsequent damage by the duchess is a conversation that will never leave this room,” Phoebe said with a pointed look at him, Paddington and Mary, and they all nodded in agreement. “Now, if you could be so kind as to vacate the room so that I may undress Her Grace.”
“I think you should probably let Mary help get me undressed while you attend your own gown,” the duchess said with a hint of humor in her voice.
