Page 44 of His Wicked Secret
Audrey’s eyes blurred with tears. James and Gillian slipped outside as the upstairs maid entered with a bowl of chipped ice. Audrey thanked the girl and took it over to her sister.
“Lord, who knew ice would be such a relief?” Horatia sighed.
“Rest, sister. I’ll wait for the doctor.” Audrey started to go, but Horatia caught her by the arm.
“Thank you for staying. I know that could not have been easy for you. You must have been ready to faint.”
Audrey’s gaze dropped to the floor. Shame dampened most of her joy. She hated her squeamishness about blood and the weakness she felt for having it. It was such a silly thing to fear, and it had made her all but useless tonight.
“I love you, Horatia. I would do anything for you. Have you thought about names?” Audrey stroked the baby’s cheek with the back of one finger.
Horatia chuckled. “I wasn’t prepared for a boy. We had only expected a girl.”
“We’ll think of something good.”
“I’m tempted to name him Evander, after Lucien’s father,” Horatia said. Lucian went still, his eyes overbright.
“Evander, truly? What about your father, Ambrose?”
“Evander Ambrose Russell, the future Marquess of Rochester.” Horatia tested out the name. “I think it sounds perfect. What do you think?”
Lucien swallowed hard. “I think…I think I love you even more than I did yesterday. Is that possible?” Lucien stroked Horatia’s hand, and Audrey smiled, quietly slipping away. The two needed some time alone.
As she stepped into the hall, she leaned against the wall and sighed in relief. At the base of the stairs she saw Jonathan rushing up with a doctor behind him. When he saw her, his face drained of color.
“Audrey, is everything all right?”
She managed an exhausted smile. “Yes, I think so.” She looked toward the doctor, who seemed as weary as she was. No doubt Jonathan had dragged him from his dinner.
“Doctor, the baby was born a little less than a quarter of an hour ago. We greatly appreciate you coming to look after my sister and the baby.”
The doctor nodded. “It is my pleasure, Miss Sheridan. May I go inside?”
“Yes, please.” She turned to Jonathan once they were alone. “Thank you for fetching the doctor.”
“I was glad to do something useful. Moments like these can’t help but make you feel…helpless.” He added the last word softly.
“You were far from helpless. I, on the other hand, did not manage much of anything.” She felt a wretched sinking feeling in her chest. How was she ever to become a lady spy if she froze at the sight of blood or trauma? Childbirth was supposed to be natural thing, and yet she’d been petrified.
Jonathan stepped closer. “Audrey, are you well?” She shrugged away from his touch and went down the stairs. If she didn’t get to her room soon, she was going to collapse from exhaustion. Jonathan looked so warm, strong, and inviting, but if she fell into his arms now, he would never respect her for the woman she was trying to be. And she was tired of him seeing her at her worst, when she was weak and ashamed. She heard his footsteps behind her.
“You need not follow me. I’m perfectly fine,” she declared, not looking over her shoulder.
“You look exhausted and had very little to eat at dinner. Why don’t we fetch something from the kitchen and find a place for you to rest?”
“You need not trouble yourself on my account.” Her words came out sharp, but she knew it was her hunger and fatigue speaking for her.
Jonathan caught her hand in his and tugged her toward him. “Come. The kitchens are this way.”
She tried to ignore the thrill she felt at him holding her hand and trying to take care of her, even if another part of her resented it. She was too tired to fight, so she followed him down to the kitchens, where the servants were just settling down to their own meal. The footmen and the maids leapt from their seats, but Jonathan waved them back down.
“Please, don’t trouble yourselves. We are only going to collect some food.”
A plump cook rose from her seat. “Let me help you, dear boy.” The cook winked at Jonathan, and Audrey wondered if the cook had known Jonathan back when he had been a servant. Godric no doubt had brought him to Lucien’s estate many times as a valet, and he would have spent time down here with the other servants. The cook prepared two plates laden with turkey, stuffing, sausages, cauliflower, and potatoes.
“And a bit of a treat for you…” The cook grinned as she placed rings of pineapples on their plates. Then she handed him a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“It seems you got your pineapples after all,” he teased as they left the kitchens.
