command and would not make himself absent again unless his wife wished it.
“Will you? Christian? Please?”
It was all he needed to hear.
Stepping into the room, he rushed to her side, his heart breaking at the sight of her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and sweat-soaked hair. When he’d last seen her, as he pressed a kiss to her lips and wished her luck, she’d been reassuring and calm. She was none of those now. He lowered one arm around her and placed his lips on her cheek.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her mother, surprisingly enough, appeared somewhat relieved at his arrival. Her eyes appeared larger than normal when she met his gaze from her position near the window. Kingsley’s wife lifted her gaze and glared at him as she dabbed a wet cloth on his wife’s forehead. “Be prepared for a good deal of blood, Warwick. And if you get in the way, I’ll physically eject you myself if I have to.”
“With my help,” Louella added.
The midwife tutted. “Husbands belong downstairs.”
“Don’t listen to them.” Lillian gripped his hand but then winced. “Another one’s coming.”
Lillian squeezed her eyes shut and then her entire body tensed beside him.
“Relax, Your Grace,” the midwife reminded her. “Short breaths.” And then she demonstrated some sort of panting that Lillian mimicked. The longer the pain persisted, the more shallow the panting became before turning into moans and, eventually, one of the long wailing screams he’d been hearing for hours now.
Christian could only encourage and compliment her, feeling utterly helpless and absurdly superfluous. When her pain thankfully receded, she relaxed into him. “I’m so glad you are here.” Her words made him feel slightly better.
Christian pressed his mouth against her forehead. “You amaze me, do you know that?”
But she seemed too tired to answer.
“You are going to be the perfect mother to our perfect son, our perfect little marquess.” All he could think was to praise her efforts, to reassure her. He hated to think of what was to come and yet knew there was no avoiding it.
“You will be the perfect father.” Her voice was barely audible, but her eyelashes fluttered open and she managed a weak smile.
The midwife lifted her head just then and stared hard at Lillian. “The baby is ready to come. When you feel the next pain, bear down with all your might and push.”
Christian hated to see her looking so frightened. But along with the fear on her face, he saw determination. He was coming to know that when his wife had that particular look on her face, she was not to be thwarted.
Wishing he could take the pain upon himself, he squeezed her hand. “You can do this, Lillylove.”
And then tension rolled through her petite frame.
“Push now.” The midwife’s voice was calm and reassuring despite the tension in the room.
“Keep going, Lillian!” This from the young duchess who was holding one of his wife’s legs now.
Christian reached down and supported the other.
“You can do it,” Lady Kingsley stood at the ready with a white towel beside the midwife.
Lillian bore down a second time, veins pulsing, and teeth clenched. Christian’s own muscles tensed as he watched—willing her his strength and loving her with every fiber of his being.
“I can see the head,” the midwife announced. “Keep pushing until the pain eases.”
But her pain seemed to go on forever, and the quiet in between grew shorter as Christian watched and soothed her and held her leg up when she seemed to hardly have the strength to do anything but push.
He did not think she could have any strength left at all, when miracle of miracles, a tiny blood-streaked head appeared between her legs. And then the midwife twisted the baby carefully before the rest of a squirming and slippery body shot into her arms—his son.
As though she’d given everything she had to give, Lillian fell backward with a heavy sigh.
And when the baby made a fledgling, and then a much louder wail, everyone in the room let out a relieved laugh.
Lillian turned to him anxiously and then flashed her gaze back to the woman holding their baby. “How is he? He is all right?”
The midwife was working with the chord coming from the baby, but she took a moment to smile up at both of them.
“This child appears healthy and hale. Just a moment and you can count all the little Warwick fingers and all the Warwick toes.” She then wrapped a linen around the baby and handed him toward Christian, who had