Phoebe looked down at her torn clothing which the fur was no longer concealing and inhaled sharply before snatching the wrap closed around her neck. Despite her bravado, Joshua knew she was rattled by her current state of dishabille.
“I will return shortly,” she said as a bevy of women entered the room. Joshua wasn’t certain who left the room quicker, him, Paddington or Phoebe, but as they left, a cacophony of noise erupted. Leading the pack was a woman in her fifties who was as round as she was tall. Her cap was slipping off a nest of graying hair, and her cheeks were rosy from exertion. Her eyes sparkledwith good humor, and a booming voice rose above the other women.
“I believe it’s time to bring in a new generation of the peerage. Are you ready, Duchess?”
Paddington closed the doors to the ducal bed chamber, and he and the butler slumped against a door as Phoebe ran down the hall to what he realized was her bedchamber. He and Paddington looked at one another.
“I need a brandy,” Joshua admitted.
“The duke gave me a bottle to keep for this moment,” Paddington confessed.
“Nithesdale gave you a bottle of brandy to open on the night his child was to be born?”
“Yes, sir. His Grace said that no duke could be born without drama surrounding his birth, and that I should imbibe for him at that moment.”
“Nithesdale believed he was having a son?”
“As His Grace always said, ‘You must have faith that everything will work out just as it was meant to be. The duchess will bear my heir.’”
Joshua shook his head in wonder. “Then I suggest we prepare ourselves for a long night with the brandy His Grace provided.”
A scream interrupted Paddington’s response, and he nodded his head once toward the stairwell. Joshua didn’t need to be told twice. This was not a place for men, at least not the two men escaping to the lower rooms of the castle.
The sun crested the trees and a baby wailed with his first breath of life. “We have a new duke, Your Grace. Your husband would be very proud.”
A sob tore from Iseabail’s lips as she fell back onto the pillows and held her hands out for her son. Phoebe wiped away the sweat from her friend’s forehead and then sat down next to her as the midwife brought the baby to Iseabail.
“He’s absolutely gorgeous,” Phoebe said as she swiped at the tears escaping down her cheeks.
Iseabail laughed as she cried, “He’s the ugliest, most adorable child I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Have you thought about what you’re going to name him?” asked Phoebe.
“Yes. I’m going to name him after his father and his grandfathers. Edward Xavier Blair Hancock.”
Phoebe smiled and more tears fell down her cheeks. “Nithesdale would be so proud.”
The midwife helped Iseabail place the baby at her breast, and the new Duke of Nithesdale nudged around before latching on and beginning to suckle.
“I didn’t realize you planned to nurse your baby,” Phoebe said.
“My mother breastfed every one of her daughters, except for Robina. It was a bond that she said could never be replaced. And once you get to know my youngest sister, you will understand how she seems a bit lost without the experience. Since Xavier will be my only child, I will not let him feel that loss.”
“You don’t know Xavier will be your only child.”
Iseabail smiled down at her son, but there was a deep sadness that accompanied it. “Without his father, I cannot imagine having another. Now, if you could go down and tell Forrester the good news, I would be in your debt.”
“Do you think he’s still here? He was gone when I came back from changing.”
Iseabail gazed down at her son, a sense of wonder and heartbreak visible in her expression. “Forrester was more nervous than all of us combined. He needs to know that he will represent the Duke of Nithesdale for decades to come.”
“I don’t think that was his first concern, do you?”
Iseabail shook her head, but couldn’t take her eyes off her newborn son. “No, he is too good of a man for that, and that is why he will always represent this family.”
Phoebe leaned over and kissed her friend’s forehead before leaving the room and heading downstairs to the drawing room. She wasn’t sure if Joshua was still at the castle, but if he was, she wanted to be the one to give him the good news. She pushed open the door to the drawing room and found the fire had burned down in the fireplace. The candle on the small writing desk was extinguished, and only the glow of the embers from the fire illuminated the room.
She looked toward the chair in the corner and found Joshua with his head back and his mouth slightly ajar. He was no longer wearing the soiled great coat and undercoat he had been wearing when he ascended the steps carrying Iseabail. His cravat was gone and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. He was the most tempting sight she had seen in her entire life. She walked over and whispered so that she did not startle him. “Joshua, are you awake?”
