Elks was the one who’d imparted the news.He’d uttered something more about footmen, but Adrian hadn’t paused to listen.None of that mattered.The only thing of importance was that his wife was in pain.Agony, as Elks had described it.Good God.She’d not have gone to the hospital if she were well.
The hackney drew to a halt, and Adrian leapt inside.Thankfully, Murry had the good sense to issue directions.
“Did you tell him to hurry?”Adrian asked as he climbed through the door.
“Yes.I promised to double his fare if he gets us there in five min—”
The carriage jerked forward so roughly they nearly flew off the bench.Only the bracing of hands and feet kept them seated as the carriage started charging toward Saint George’s.Occasional shouts from the driver warned people of their approach so they could get out of the way.
“You must calm yourself,” Murry said, his voice level.
“Calm myself?”Adrian gritted his teeth and clutched the leather strap that hung by the window.“My wife is so poorly she had to go to the hospital, and you want me to calm myself?Are you mad?”
“Based on the information provided by Elks, I don’t think she’s poorly at all, sir.What he described are the signs of labor.”
“Labor?”Whatever dread had been churning around in Adrian’s gut turned to ice, then shattered, splintering into a million shards that ultimately speared him.“No.It can’t be.She isn’t due for another two weeks.”
He needed those weeks in which to prepare himself mentally and emotionally.
To have them snatched from him without warning was far too cruel.It didn’t allow him time to adjust to the idea of… No.He’d not even think in such terms.Samantha would be well.All would be fine.And he…
He’d had nearly nine months in which to come to terms with what was about to occur and every way in which it could go horribly wrong.
As it had for his mother.
Dear God, what had he done?
“I should have taken precautions,” he muttered.“What the hell was I thinking, allowing her to be placed in such danger?”
“Take a breath and steady yourself,” Murry said.“There’s no sense in worrying over the worst that can happen when there’s every chance this will turn out to be the happiest day of your life.”
“Childbirth is dangerous, Murry.My mother…so many other women as well…”
“Yes, but the vast majority do survive, and your wife is strong, Mr.Croft.The strongest woman I’ve ever encountered, in fact.I’m confident all will be well.”
“But there’s no guarantee.”Damn.The air felt stuck in his throat.
“Isn’t that true of most things in life?”
Adrian nodded.As the carriage pulled to a halt in front of Saint George’s, Murry told him, “She’ll need you to be calm.If you show up in a panic, it’ll only make the experience worse for her.”
The flask Murry pushed into Adrian’s hand reminded him why he valued his valet as much as he did.He didn’t mince words, and he was always prepared for any eventuality.
“Drink,” said Murry.“Then take a deep breath and release the fear.”
“And if I can’t?”Adrian asked even as he set the flask to his lips.
“Then you put on an act that’s worthy of the Theatre Royal.”
Sound advice indeed, Adrian reasoned and tipped back his head.The spicy brandy slid down his throat with ease, heating his insides and easing the tension.Another sip further dissolved it, replacing the dread with a deeper yearning to step up and do what was needed.
Samantha had to come first.His demons would have to wait in the shadows for now.
“Thank you, Murry.”Adrian reached for the door and thrust it open.
When he entered the hospital moments later, he was met by one of the nurses he knew.
“I’ll ring for someone to show you the way to your wife’s room,” Mrs.Burns said.
