CHAPTER TEN

As Stefan conducted the physician within reach of the improvised lying-in chamber, the cries from within told their own tale. “It sounds as if you are superfluous, Crick.”

In answer to Stefan’s knock, the door opened and Dion appeared, all flushed and crumpled and beaming all over her face.

“Is that the doctor? You are too late, Doctor Crick. All is over. Lucy is a heroine!”

Leaving the door open, Dion flew out of sight again within the room. The doctor was a plain sensible man who did not hold with cosseting. His brows flew up and he smiled.

“Well, I must say Lady Dionisia looks to be very well pleased with herself.”

“She does indeed,” said Stefan, feeling bemused. He had rarely seen his sister so enthused, though her excitement was typical.

“I will just see that all is as it should be.” The doctor winked. “Then I shall be in a position to reassure Lord Sarclet as to the condition of his lady, and of course the infant.”

With which, he entered the room and disappeared from sight. Stefan hesitated a moment, conscious of a strong desire to see Lucy, but aware of having no place inside the chamber.

Then Dion flitted out again, closing the door behind her. “Where is Sarclet?”

“In the Red Saloon.”

“Then we shall go together to give him the news,” said Dion, tucking a confiding hand in his arm and beaming up at him.

Stefan was hit by a rush of affection. Her hair was tousled and half falling down, her face was shiny and streaked with sweat, and her gown was soiled. But she looked utterly elated and as pleased as if she had produced the baby herself. She chattered ceaselessly.

“Such a time we have had, you would not believe. Lucy was incredible. I should have liked to slap Paulina time after time, for she was horridly rude to Lucy. But Lucy was patience itself. Which I would never have guessed at, for she has a fiendish temper.”

“I can vouch for that,” Stefan said feelingly.

“Yes, and she had every reason to lose it, too. Of course I was sorry for Paulina, for she had a difficult time of it, but if you’d heard her cursing poor Lucy — as if it was her fault the wretched creature had begun in labour in this house.

Not but what it was the shock of discovering Lucy that brought it on, as I told you. ”

Stefan was inwardly bristling, but as they neared the Red Saloon, he was moved to caution his little sister. “Careful, Dion. We don’t want Sarclet to overhear you.”

Dion lowered her voice to a murmur. “For my part, I should be very glad to tell him just what I think of his odious wife, but I dare say it is not just the moment for it.”

“Precisely. And the poor fellow is excessively anxious. I will leave you the privilege of setting his mind at rest.”

Dion rolled her eyes, but as she sailed into the Red Saloon, he was not surprised to hear her exclaim in tones brightly sympathetic, “Dear Cousin Thomas, come out of the dismals, do! You have a fine baby son, and Paulina has come through wholly unscathed.”

Lucy closed the bedchamber door behind her and moved into the corridor.

She cast a look up and down, saw she was alone and sagged wearily against the wall.

Now all was done, tiredness claimed her.

Her back ached and her legs could barely hold her up.

She wished she might be wafted to her own room without necessity to walk there.

The arrival of the doctor had been fortuitous, for she had less confidence in her ability to handle the aftermath of the birthing than the arrival of the baby.

She had gladly given up her place to him, and, Mrs Lovedown having taken charge of the infant, would have left the room immediately had he not plied her with questions as he tended to the patient.

The doctor appeared satisfied with her answers, but Lucy was not able to get away before the ecstatic father arrived.

His attention had understandably been all for his wife and the physician, and Lucy had at last been able to tiptoe from the room unnoticed.

All she had to do now was to find sufficient strength to get to her chamber.

She needed to wash and change before she was obliged to face anyone again.

Her gown’s black hue did much to conceal the stains, but nothing could disguise its crushed state and the stench inseparable from the activity in which she had been engaged.

“You look exhausted.”

Lucy’s eyes flew open. Stefan was standing on the other side of the corridor, regarding her with a lurking expression at the back of his eyes she could not interpret.

Lucy summoned a smile. “I am a little tired.”

“A little!” His eyebrow rose. “From what Dion has been telling us, I should think you must be dead on your feet.”

She could not forbear a little laugh. “She is probably more tired than I am. She was bouncing with energy throughout.”

Stefan grinned. “She still is. She is regaling Corisande with a blow by blow account of the proceedings.” His lips twitched. “Which is why I absented myself. Loath as I am to seem unsympathetic, I cannot find it in me to revel in the details of Paulina’s sufferings.”

“No, indeed,” agreed Lucy, feeling inexplicably lighter. “I have yet to find a man who can stomach hearing of what women are obliged to go through on these occasions.”

“And you have tested innumerable men on the subject, I take it?”

Lucy giggled. “Well, the menfolk have uniformly vanished for the duration whenever I have been called upon to assist at a birth.”

To her surprise, Stefan’s gaze became fixed upon her face, as though he studied her. “You are a remarkable female, Lucy Graydene. I have spoken of it before, but I never realised it fully until today.”

A flush of pleasure warmed Lucy’s bosom. “I think that is a compliment.”

“It is.”

“Then I have only to thank you.”

Stefan shook his head, and there was vehemence in his tone. “Don’t you dare. If there is any gratitude forthcoming, it is wholly in your direction. You have nothing to do but to accept it gracefully. Dion has been praising you to the skies.”

Lucy shifted in some discomfort. “It is all new to Dion. I am glad I was able to be of service. It makes some small recompense for causing the uproar in the first place.”

Stefan’s face changed, a look of thunder coming into it. Next instant, Lucy had been seized by the shoulders.

“I won’t have you talking like that! You are not the villain of the piece, Lucy. If I am not much mistaken, Paulina has a great deal to answer for.”

Lucy wanted to refute this, for however much it had hurt to be attacked that morning, she had the wit to understand her half-sister’s feelings. But Stefan’s action had pulled her away from the supporting wall, and she did not trust her legs. Instinct caused her to clutch at Stefan for support.

“Hold me, pray! I cannot stand very well.”

“By God, but I am a fool,” muttered Stefan, catching her about the shoulders. “Shall I carry you?”

“No, no, I can manage, if you will only lend me your arm.”

Stefan’s hand slid under her shoulder as he turned into her. “Where do you wish to go?”

“My chamber, if you please.”

“Come, then.”

For the first few steps it was bliss to be so strongly supported that she need not rely on her legs. But within a short space of time, Lucy felt a glow start up in her veins. His proximity was having its inevitable effect. Lucy began to shiver.

“You are shaking.” Concern was in his voice, and he held her closer. The heat redoubled within her and confusion made Lucy stumble.

“You are not fit to walk,” he said roughly, and swung her up into his arms. “Put your arm about my neck.”

Lucy could do nothing but obey. She was quivering uncontrollably, the tremors spreading to encompass her whole body. She no longer knew whether the condition owed more to her situation, snug in his embrace, or to the lassitude overtaking her.

Fortunately, it did not take Stefan long to reach her chamber. He set her down at the door, but instead of leaving her, he turned the handle and pushed it open, guiding her into the room. “I think you’d best sit down,” he said curtly, leading her to the bed and pushing her down.

Lucy sat on the end of the big four-poster, and looked up at him where he stood over her. A deep frown marred his brow, and his eyes regarded her with an expression almost of anger. Instinct made her protest. “I hope you don’t mean to ring a peal over me.”

For a moment he looked surprised. Then his brow cleared. “Why in Hades should I do so? I am far too much in your debt.”

She made a half-hearted gesture of denial. “You are talking nonsense.” A thought occurred and she could not forbear a little gurgle of laughter. “I am not used to hearing so much in my praise from you, Stefan. It is not like you at all.”

A grin dispelled the last of the lingering frown. “Enjoy it while you may. I cannot guarantee to continue in this frame of mind.”

She laughed, and he stepped back from her. Almost as if he did so with an effort. “I had best leave you to rest. Until dinner, which I should think you will be glad of after your exertions.”

Lucy watched him walk to the door, feeling peculiarly bereft.

He opened it, looked back briefly, and was gone.

For a few moments, Lucy stayed just where she was, beset by a feeling of disorientation and unreality, as if the events of the day had been a dream.

She ought to get up off the bed and remove her gown.

It appeared to be a task well beyond her capabilities, as was the necessity to ring for hot water to wash with.

She tried to work out a sequence of actions which became curiously involved.

The next thing she knew, she awoke to darkness and found Dion shaking her shoulder.

“Are you not coming down to dinner, Lucy?”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.