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August 30, 1819
Oliver paced the corridor directly outside his suite at Scarborough Castle. Though excavations to his grandmother’s property had unearthed a portion of a Roman pavement and two surviving walls of a villa, the thrill of that find couldn’t compare to what was happening now behind that closed door. All his attention lay within that room, for his wife was in labor as she endeavored to deliver their first child.
And damn it all to hell, she’d been wracked with pains for the better part of a day. Why was it taking so long? Worry twisted down his spine and played havoc with his brain. Was there a complication? Both of the cats as well as his dog had found someplace to hide, for the screams emanating from one of their favorite people had left them frightened.
I don’t have that luxury.
“Breathe, Scarborough.” His mother drifted into the corridor to join him in his vigil. “Your father behaved much the same way on the day you were born. We were so very anxious due to the three stillborn children delivered before you.” Lines of strain were etched into her face, a clear indication she shared his anxiety even if she didn’t admit to it.
Would that my child prove itself as strong as all the women in my family.
He nodded but shoved a hand through his hair. “What if Marjorie dies?” His stomach bottomed out at the thought. A year with her wasn’t nearly enough. “I can’t lose her, Mother, not after I feel as if I’ve just found her.”
“You can’t think about that right now.” She came close and grabbed his hand. Her rings bit into his skin and kept him grounded into the moment. “Yes, there is inherent risk in birthing a babe; there’s no getting around it, and when you love a woman as fiercely as you do Marjorie, that risk seems insurmountable.” She squeezed his fingers. “All will be well. She’s a strong woman.”
“Oh, God. I hope you’re right.” He clung to his mother’s hand for a few minutes then resumed his pacing, his mind frozen with fear, his insides tight with worry.
Then, the lusty cry of an infant cut through the mid-afternoon air. His gaze darted between the closed door and his mother.
She nodded. “The babe has arrived.”
“I have to see Marjorie.”
Them. His new family.
When he crept into the sitting room, a bevy of activity met him, and as he entered the bedchamber, maids and the midwife were busy attending to both Marjorie on the bed amidst a stack of pillows as well as a squirming, bloody infant in the midwife’s arms. The baby’s cry was a good indication it was healthy and quite affronted to have been wrenched from its previous place of existence.
With his heart in his throat, Oliver met the midwife’s gaze. “How is my wife?”
“All is well, Your Grace. Set yourself at ease.” She nodded and gave him an exhausted smile. “The duchess is tired but resilient.”
“Thank you.” He reached Marjorie’s bedside, took her hand. Her chestnut hair was limp. Sweat plastered baby fine curls to her forehead and neck, but there was elation in her tired, gorgeous eyes as she looked at him. “The babe is here.”
“I know.” Oliver leaned down and pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. Never had he seen her look more beautiful. “Are you well?” His heart braced, froze, for the words he needed to hear.
“Yes.” She held tight to his hand. “Tired, in pain, but I’m so excited and grateful.” Her chin trembled. A tear fell to her cheek. “Is the babe healthy?”
A maid wearing a white pinafore apron smeared with blood and other fluids approached with a wide grin. She handed him a tiny, swaddled bundle. “You have a little girl, Your Grace. Six pounds, eight ounces. Twenty-one inches long.”
Oh, dear God. I have a daughter. Oliver cuddled the baby to his chest, kept her cradled in his arms like the treasure that she was. “She looks like you, sweeting. Has your brilliant eyes.” With a shaking hand, he peeled back the blanket from her tiny pink face. “She’s gorgeous, has my skin color and hair.” Then he glanced at Marjorie. His breath stalled at the exquisite joy in her expression. “You are amazing, love. You both are.”
She held his gaze, and he fell into those cool pools once again. “As are you. We’re a family.”
The older midwife bustled up to them. She nudged him away from the bed. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but there are a few things your wife needs to attend to that are crucial after birthing a child.”
Worry once again took hold. “Are they dangerous?”
“No.” Her grin was kind. “But they are messy and a bit unpleasant. I’m certain you don’t wish to witness them.”
“Very well.” He left the suite with his daughter secure in his arms. With trembling hands, he presented the babe to his mother. “It’s a girl. I have a daughter.” Such joy mixed with relief in his chest that his eyes welled with moisture. Tears fell unchecked to his cheeks and dotted the baby’s swaddling clothes. “Can you believe I have a daughter?”
“Oh, you poor thing.” His mother patted his cheek as she peered at the baby. “You have no idea what’s in store for you.” But her smile was wide, and tears sparkled in her own eyes. “She’s beautiful. A wonderful blend of her parents.”
He sniffled and then laughed when the baby yawned. “Marjorie and I have talked at length regarding what to name the child. Since she’s a girl, we’ll name her after Grandmother—Nicole.”
“How sweet and a good way to honor my mother.”
“I thought so too.” Oliver cuddled the infant to his chest. So tiny. So helpless. So innocent. She was his and Marjorie’s daughter, a product of their union. “I already love her so much that it terrifies me,” he admitted in a whisper.
“Love expands when you have children, and being afraid means you’re doing something right.”
“Yes, I rather think it does.” No longer was fear an unseen, evil entity. Now it was a healthy steppingstone, a guide of sorts through life. “My heart is so full.” Again, he peered at the baby. “I’m giving her the property Grandmother willed to me. I think she would have liked that, no matter that she wished it to go to a male. It’s the right thing to do.”
“I agree. Above all, your grandmother wanted you to find happiness and love. There was much more she wanted to put into that note your father wrote at her behest, but they both agreed you would figure life out eventually.”
A smile curved Oliver’s lips. “I thought as much.”
She patted his arm. “I’ll come up to check on Marjorie and the baby later. You need to spend this time with them alone.”
“Thank you.” Once she’d left, he looked at his daughter and wept unashamedly in the corridor. None of this would have been possible without him posting that damned advertisement in the paper over a year ago. If he hadn’t done that, hadn’t wanted a bloody piece of property, he would never have met Marjorie or known how much a heart could expand and love or even forgive himself. He gently kissed the baby’s forehead.
I’m so fortunate I can hardly believe this is my life.
Eventually, a maid appeared in the corridor and beckoned him back into the room. He perched on the side of the bed and tenderly placed his daughter into Marjorie’s arms. “Thank you for this gift.” His voice broke on the last word, and he pressed a kiss to her lips. When he lifted his head, he looked at the midwife. “I realize you need to care for my wife and child, but could I have a few minutes in private with them?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” she said with a soft smile. “We’ll return in a quarter hour.”
Once alone, Oliver lost his composure again. He wrapped his arms around Marjorie and held her close, paying overt attention to not smothering the babe. “This is more than I could have ever hoped for. To have you and now her...” His voice stalled. “I don’t know how to act.”
“I think you’re behaving exactly as a new father should.” Marjorie held a palm to his cheek when he eased away. “I understand your sentiments. It’s like a dream, yet everything is... enhanced, brought into sharper focus. Are you happy?”
“So much that it frightens me.”
“Me too.” Her lips trembled as she looked at their daughter. “I’ll sketch her at the first opportunity, and the two of you together.”
“I’ve no doubts you’ll do her justice.” He sighed and then kissed her again. “I love you even more than I did the day I married you.”
“Oh, Oliver.” She slid her hand to his nape and gently encouraged him closer. The long, lingering kiss they shared held greater poignancy than all the others. “I love you too. So much.” When he straightened, she grinned. Her eyes held a certain sparkle that left him breathless with renewed awareness. “I look forward to giving you an heir.”
He tamped his quick reaction, for it had been a while since he’d laid with his wife due to her confinement. There was time enough for intimacy in the weeks ahead once they’d all adjusted to this new life. “I look forward to that as well.”
Marjorie’s smile was as brilliant as the sunshine outside. “Thank you. For everything.”
“It was and is always my pleasure and my privilege.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head and then gathered his little family close again. “I’m so glad you consented to being my pretend duchess all those months ago.”
Her chuckle stirred his insides. “It was the best decision I ever made answering that advertisement.”
“Well, you can thank Carmichael. He’s the one who wrote the copy.” Oliver peeked at the baby in her arms. “I’m going to give that man a raise.”
The smile his wife flashed held an exhausted edge. “Everything worked out splendidly.”
“Yes, it did.”
What had started as fiction had turned into reality, and he couldn’t be happier with that outcome.
The End