a soft sigh.
“I did once,” he said.
She made a funny sound that he thought might actually be a laugh. “You did, didn’t you?”
He leaned down and kissed her very gently on the lips. “I saved the day.”
“You always save the day.”
“No.” He swallowed. “That’s you.”
Their eyes met, the gaze between them deep and strong. Gregory felt something wrenching within him, and for a moment he was sure he was going to sob again. But then, just as he felt himself begin to come apart, she gave a little shrug and said, “I couldn’t move now, anyway.”
His equilibrium somewhat restored, he got up to scavenge a leftover biscuit from the tea tray. “Remember that in a week.” He had no doubt that she would be trying to get out of bed long before it was recommended.
“Where are the babies?”
Gregory paused, then turned around. “I don’t know,” he replied slowly. Good heavens, he’d completely forgotten. “In the nursery, I imagine. They are both perfect. Pink and loud and everything they are supposed to be.”
Lucy smiled weakly and let out another tired sound. “May I see them?”
“Of course. I’ll have someone fetch them immediately.”
“Not the others, though,” Lucy said, her eyes clouding. “I don’t want them to see me like this.”
“I think you look beautiful,” he said. He came over and perched on the side of the bed. “I think you might be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“Stop,” she said, since Lucy never had been terribly good at receiving compliments. But he saw her lips wobble a bit, hovering between a smile and a sob.
“Katharine was here yesterday,” he told her.
Her eyes flew open.
“No, no, don’t worry,” he said quickly. “I told her you were merely sleeping. Which is what you were doing. She isn’t concerned.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “She called you La la la Lucy.”
Lucy smiled. “She is marvelous.”
“She is just like you.”
“That’s not why she is marv—”
“It is exactly why,” he interrupted with a grin. “And I almost forgot to tell you. She named the babies.”
“I thought you named the babies.”
“I did. Here have some more water.” He paused for a moment to get some more liquid into her. Distraction was going to be the key, he decided. A little bit here and a little bit there, and they’d get through a full glass of water. “Katharine thought of their second names. Francesca Hyacinth and Eloise Lucy.”
“Eloise . . . ?”
“Lucy,” he finished for her. “Eloise Lucy. Isn’t it lovely?”
To his surprise, she didn’t protest. She just nodded, the motion barely perceptible, her eyes filling with tears.
“She said it was because you are the best mother in the world,” he added softly.
She did cry then, big silent tears rolling from her eyes.
“Would you like me to bring you the babies now?” he asked.
She nodded. “Please. And . . .” She paused, and Gregory saw her throat work. “And bring the rest, too.”
“Are you certain?”
She nodded again. “If you can help me to sit up a little straighter, I think I can manage hugs and kisses.”
His tears, the ones he had been trying so hard to suppress, slid from his eyes. “I can’t think of anything that might help you to get better more quickly.” He walked to the door, then turned around when his hand was on the knob. “I love you, La la la Lucy.”
“I love you, too.”
Gregory must have told the children to behave with extra decorum, Lucy decided, because when they filed into her room (rather adorably from oldest to youngest, the tops of their heads making a charming little staircase) they did so very quietly, finding their places against the wall, their hands clasped sweetly in front of their bodies.
Lucy had no idea who these children were. Her children had never stood so still.
“It’s lonely over here,” she said, and there would have been a mass tumble onto the bed except that Gregory leapt into the riot with a forceful “Gently!”
Although in retrospect, it was not so much his verbal order that held the chaos at bay as his arms, which prevented at least three children from cannonballing onto the mattress.
“Mimsy won’t let me see the babies,” four-year-old Ben muttered.
“It’s because you haven’t taken a bath in a month,” retorted Anthony, two years his elder, almost to the day.
“How is that possible?” Gregory wondered aloud.
“He’s very sneaky,” Daphne informed him. She was trying to worm her way closer to Lucy, though, so her words were muffled.
“How sneaky can one be with a stench like