Page 66 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
“Congratulations, Lady Strawbridge,” she said. “You have a healthy baby boy.”
Lydia sobbed, reaching for the child as the midwife handed him to her. She stared down at her son’s bright red face as the midwife wiped her face again with fresh, cool water. She could hardly believe the miracle she held in her arms. She had said earlier that the day couldn’t get any better. But clearly, she had been wrong.
She looked up at the midwife with a tired smile.
“Can Michael come in now?” she asked.
The midwife nodded.
“Let me just take these linens away,” she said. “Then, I will send him in.”
Lydia nodded, settling back in the bed, and cradling her son in her arms.
A moment later, Michael burst into the room, rushing to her side. He kissed her forehead, then looked at the newborn baby in her arms.
“It’s a boy, darling,” Lydia whispered.
Michael's eyes filled with love and pride.
“We'll name him Finton,” he declared, his voice thick with emotion. “After my brother.”
Lydia looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness.
“Finton it is,” she agreed, knowing that this day would forever be engraved in their hearts as a cherished memory.
Is This The End?
