Page 68 of Marry in Scarlet
Aunt Dottie then arranged for chairs to be brought up, and a small table, cards and some wine. “No, don’t argue, dear boy, you won’t help Emm any by fretting. Sit down and let us play a relaxing game of cards while we wait.”
But Cal couldn’t concentrate—he was focused on every little noise coming from inside the bedchamber, so Aunt Dottie played patience, while Cal paced.
George used some of the time to write to Rose and to Lily and Edward, informing them that Emm’s labor had started. She stared at what she’d written, then screwed up the letters. Rose and Lily were too far away to come in time for the birth. Such news would only cause them to worry; better to wait until she had some real news. She prayed it would be good news.
After an hour or so, Finn needed to go outside, so George took him for the fastest walk ever, and raced back... to find the situation unchanged.
Darkness fell and the gas lamps were lit.
Some time later a footman arrived, summoned by a bell in the bedroom. Emm’s maid, Milly, opened the door and asked him to bring up a can of hot water and some fresh towels. They fell on her with questions and she did her best to soothe them.
“It’s going just fine. M’lady is doing well. Babies can take a long time to come, especially first babies. My sister was just the same with her first, and the midwife says everything is going just as it should. She’d send for the doctor if she was worried. Truly, there’s nothing to worry about, sir.” Milly had been with Emm since before her marriage and was very protective, so her assurance was somewhat comforting. Somewhat.
The footman returned with the hot water and a maid carrying a stack of towels, and then, with an apologetic look, Milly withdrew, shutting the door behind her.
An hour later Burton brought up a plate of sandwiches, but only Finn and Aunt Dottie ate any. Time crawled past.
Then a scream shattered the silence. Cal leapt to his feet, swearing, and pounded on the door. There was another scream, and he pounded harder.
Then there came a wavering, high-pitched wail that grew in strength.
Cal stilled, and turned a white face to George and Aunt Dottie. “Is that...?”
“A baby, yes.”
He turned back and pounded on the door again. Aunt Agatha yanked it open. “You have a son. The Ashendon Heir has been born.”
“How is Emm?” He tried to push past her, but she stopped him.
“Your wife is tired, naturally, but perfectly well. We are just tidying things up. You may come in and see her when she is ready to be seen.” She gave him a searching look. “Did you hear me, Ashendon, you have a son, a healthy baby boy. An heir.”
Cal nodded distractedly. “How long before I can see her?”
“As long as it takes.” And she shut the door in his face.
Cal turned away, staggered to a chair and collapsed into it. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “Thank God, thank God.” And then a few minutes later. “Never again.”
Aunt Dottie laughed. “Men, always so dramatic. Now, since Emmaline is well and you have a healthy baby boy, I think we should celebrate, yes?” She rang for Burton and ordered champagne.
In a short while the door was opened and Cal was admitted. George and Aunt Dottie waited impatiently.
A short time later Aunt Agatha opened the door again. “You may both come in for a few minutes only. Emmaline is naturally very tired, but she has done very well, very well indeed. A healthy baby boy. The Ashendon Heir.”
They entered, and found Cal sitting on the bed besideEmm, his arm around her, her head resting on his chest and a white bundle in her arms. She looked exhausted but strangely serene.
“How are you?” George whispered. She didn’t know why she was whispering, but it somehow seemed appropriate. She glanced at the white bundle. All she could see was a tuft of dark hair.
Emm smiled. “We’re both well. Tired, but”—she glanced up at Cal—“very happy.”
His arm tightened around her.
“Have you decided on his name?” Aunt Dottie asked.
Emm glanced at Call and nodded. She smoothed her hand gently over the tuft of hair. “Meet Bertrand Calbourne George Rutherford.” The bundle stirred and made a little murmuring noise.
“George?” George repeated. “You mean—?”
“Yes, named after you. Well, you’re going to be his godmother, aren’t you?” Emm said, smiling. Cal nodded.
