Chapter 6 #2
“Can we please focus on getting me into the bed? I have humiliated myself enough for one day,” the duchess panted.
He began to lay her down on the bed, but she stopped him.
“Not in here. I should have Nithesdale’s baby where he took his last breath.”
Joshua looked down at the duchess and asked, “Are you certain?”
She took two quick breaths and nodded her head, too caught up in the contraction to respond verbally.
Phoebe ran to the adjoining door and opened it to duke’s bedchamber.
The room looked exactly as it had the last time Joshua had been in the castle the month the duke had passed.
The duchess had once compared the bedchamber to the Gallerie des Glaces at Versailles.
Although she had never been to the French court, her mother had, and had described the Hall of Mirrors to her daughters in great detail.
The opulent chandelier in the ducal chamber glittered like a sky full of diamonds as it reflected light coming through the windows.
The large golden bed had the Nithesdale crest embroidered on the deep blue canopy.
Matching curtains hung over the floor-to-ceiling windows and were tied back with gold cords.
Two gilded chairs sat in front of the fireplace where the duke and duchess used to sit and play chess before the fire.
The board had been left with the pieces in position from the last game they had not completed prior to the duke’s death.
Joshua had always wondered if she would finish the game, but a silver box sat in the middle of the board, the black king guarding one side and the white queen on the other.
Clearly, she had not. It was another piece of evidence to the duchess’s dedication to her husband.
Paddington followed them into the room, the elderly butler breathing harder than the duchess. “Your Grace, if I may, the midwife is arriving as I speak. Mrs. Hagerty has started boiling water and the maids will be bringing in clean bed linens.”
Phoebe pushed forward past Paddington and began pulling the expensive crested bed linens off the large bed with the assistance of Mary.
Joshua then set the duchess down on the edge and she looked up at him with a look of appreciation and embarrassment.
“If a duchess can be brought low, then I have certainly sunk into the depths today. I apologize, Forrester.”
Joshua looked down at the soiled front of his best suit and couldn’t help but smile. “I would wager that I am the first solicitor to ever participate in the birth of a peer, and I have the evidence to prove it.”
“As I said, I ruined your suit. Any subsequent damage by the duchess is a conversation that will never leave this room,” Phoebe said with a pointed look at him, Paddington and Mary, and they all nodded in agreement.
“Now, if you could be so kind as to vacate the room so that I may undress Her Grace.”
“I think you should probably let Mary help get me undressed while you attend your own gown,” the duchess said with a hint of humor in her voice.
Phoebe looked down at her torn clothing which the fur was no longer concealing and inhaled sharply before snatching the wrap closed around her neck. Despite her bravado, Joshua knew she was rattled by her current state of dishabille.
“I will return shortly,” she said as a bevy of women entered the room.
Joshua wasn’t certain who left the room quicker, him, Paddington or Phoebe, but as they left, a cacophony of noise erupted.
Leading the pack was a woman in her fifties who was as round as she was tall.
Her cap was slipping off a nest of graying hair, and her cheeks were rosy from exertion.
Her eyes sparkled with good humor, and a booming voice rose above the other women.
“I believe it’s time to bring in a new generation of the peerage. Are you ready, Duchess?”
Paddington closed the doors to the ducal bed chamber, and he and the butler slumped against a door as Phoebe ran down the hall to what he realized was her bedchamber. He and Paddington looked at one another.
“I need a brandy,” Joshua admitted.
“The duke gave me a bottle to keep for this moment,” Paddington confessed.
“Nithesdale gave you a bottle of brandy to open on the night his child was to be born?”
“Yes, sir. His Grace said that no duke could be born without drama surrounding his birth, and that I should imbibe for him at that moment.”
“Nithesdale believed he was having a son?”
“As His Grace always said, ‘You must have faith that everything will work out just as it was meant to be. The duchess will bear my heir.’”
Joshua shook his head in wonder. “Then I suggest we prepare ourselves for a long night with the brandy His Grace provided.”
A scream interrupted Paddington’s response, and he nodded his head once toward the stairwell. Joshua didn’t need to be told twice. This was not a place for men, at least not the two men escaping to the lower rooms of the castle.
The sun crested the trees and a baby wailed with his first breath of life. “We have a new duke, Your Grace. Your husband would be very proud.”