A Wicked Conceit (Lady Darby Mysteries #9) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,133
no cause to blame yourself. You were protecting our child, and I was unconscious.” He heaved a sigh, pressing my head to his heart, where I could hear it beating steadily through his linen shirt. “Joe will have alerted someone by now,” Gage told me, displaying faith in our coachman. “They will be looking for us.”
“Yes, but they’ve no idea where we’ve been taken. And we’re so deep inside the vaults. How will they ever find us?”
“They will,” he said with a greater confidence than I felt. “You’ll see.”
I could only cling to him and pray.
* * *
• • •
Three hours later—a passage of time I could only tell because I’d asked Gage to let me hold his pocket watch—our lantern was running low on oil, and I could no longer pretend my labor wasn’t steadily progressing. While Gage had prowled around the room, searching for some way to contrive our escape, I had been praying. Bargaining with God, really. Begging him to make the labor stop, to calm the child inside me for just a little while longer. But this, it appeared, was denied, and nature would have its way.
That Gage had not yet noticed my discomfort when the contractions struck I credited to his preoccupation with our situation and determination to rescue us from an unescapable situation. Even now he was examining the door for approximately the sixth time, as if its construction and mechanics had somehow changed. Meanwhile, I continued to shift positions—standing, sitting, slouching, walking—trying to find the most comfortable stance in which to endure. I kept taking my pelisse off and then putting it back on, alternating between hot and cold, sweating and shivering.
Eventually, I could remain silent no longer. “Gage.”
When he didn’t turn but continued to examine the door, I tried again.
“Gage, could you come over here?”
“If only we could contrive a lever of some kind,” he ruminated aloud, giving no indication he’d even heard me.
“Sebastian,” I groused, finally capturing his attention as he pivoted to look at me. “Could you please come here?”
He crossed the room, studying my face in the flickering light. His eyes dipped to the lantern before he knelt to examine it. “You’re right. It will be out of oil soon,” he said, answering a question I hadn’t asked.
“I know. But we also have another problem.” I turned his watch toward him, but before I could speak, another contraction swept up through my lower back and around to the front.
This time Gage recognized that I was in pain and reached for me in alarm. “Kiera?”
“It’s a contraction,” I bit out between clenched teeth. “They’re coming faster now . . . and more intense.”
His eyes widened in apparent fear, but then he sank down next to me. “Tell me what to do.”
As the contraction subsided, I relaxed in relief, taking several deep breaths before answering. “Let me lean back against you.”
He gathered me between his legs, and I melted into him, laying my head against his strong chest. His arms wrapped around me, cradling me close, as his hands rested against my abdomen. “How long has this been happening?”
“I started to notice them when we were on our way to Mr. Heron’s, but I thought they were false labor pains like before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
My nerves ruffled at the irritation in his tone. “I told you. I thought they were false labor pains. I didn’t know I was actually going into labor. And the plan was to take everything to Maclean after speaking to Mr. Heron. I wasn’t anticipating any danger.”
He moved his hands to my arms, rubbing them soothingly up and down. “You’re right.”
“I didn’t know this was going to happen.” My voice cracked with emotion. “I didn’t know we were going to be trapped in the vaults.”
“I know, Kiera,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Don’t fret. Everything will be well in the end.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but it will. Trust me.” His fingers brushed my disheveled hair away from my face. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.
“Then let me worry about all of that. You just focus on yourself and telling me what to do. I’m at your command,” he attempted to jest.
My lips curled into a little smile. “That might be how I got into this situation in the first place.”
Gage laughed, a deep hearty sound that shook the firm muscles of his abdomen, jostling me in the process. I flushed with the pleasure of knowing I’d been the one to