Promise Me (26 page)

“
And just how the devil would that annoy you?”

He stared. For several seconds. But offered no response.

“
Well?” she prompted.

“
You seem to have forgotten who O’Connell works for.”

“
My memory is neither short nor faulty, but I have come to believe that he is a decent man.”

“
And you know this because you are such a splendid judge of character?”

She let the insult go. He was right.

Chase dropped his hands to his side. “This argument is pointless. Perhaps the easiest solution is for you and I to stay far away from each other.”

She swallowed her pride. “Agreed.”

A loud cackle caught their attention.

The duke turned, and Leah peeked around him.

Lady Westwood sat on the sofa, holding her sides and rolling with laughter. O’Connell took the sketchbook from his grandmother and handed it to Anne sitting in a nearby chair.

Anne giggled like an impish schoolgirl. “I did say Miss Sheridan was rather gifted, did I not, Lady Westwood?”

“
You certainly did, Lady Ashburn.”

“
What the devil..?”

The duke’s unfinished remark promptly received another round of laughter.

“
Now don’t be offended, Miss Sheridan,” O’Connell said with a mischievous grin. “But I’ve suddenly changed my mind about that portrait.”

Lady Westwood slapped her knee, and this time she cackled so vigorously her face turned red.

Bewildered and at a loss for words, Leah frantically tried to grasp the situation. Finally her mind latched on to one embarrassing conclusion.

Oh, God! The horns!

She dashed toward Anne. Just as her fingers touched the sketchpad, Chase reached around her and snatched it.

“
Give that back,” Leah demanded.

“
Not until I see what’s so amusing.”

“
I didn’t mean for this particular sketch to be seen.”

“
Then you shouldn’t have drawn it.”

“
Oh, let him look,” Lady Westwood urged. “It might be worth another laugh.”

“
Yes, by all means,” Anne agreed.

Leah ignored their advice and instead held out her hand to the duke. “Would you please be a gentleman and give that back?”

He hesitated, briefly, before rifling through the pages.

“
It’s the last drawing,” O’Connell directed.

Leah gritted her teeth to silence the flow of angry barbs she wanted to hurl at these two insufferable men.

Chase quickly found the page.

A moment of pure humiliation washed over her. But that’s all it lasted. A moment.

If his bloody Arrogance thinks to shame me into a public apology...

One corner of the duke’s mouth twitched. “I wonder, Miss Sheridan,” he said, his tone overly pleasant, “would you allow me to keep this?”

A feather could’ve knocked her over. “Keep it?”

“
Yes, the sketch you drew of me.”

“
Why?”

“
Because it amuses me.”

Did he imply that
she
amused him?

Leah yanked the book from his hand and ripped out the page. “Frame it, nail it to your wall, or place it beneath your pillow.” She handed the drawing over. “I care not.”

Unmistakable desire smoldered in his dark gaze, but it didn’t frighten her. The longer he stared, the hotter the blaze became.

“
Oh, dear,” Lady Westwood exclaimed, her tone anxious.

Leah spun around.

Anne’s face had paled, and she’d wrapped her hands around her protruding middle.

“
What’s wrong, Anne?” Leah rushed to her friend’s side. “Are you in pain?”

Her ladyship nodded. “My back,” she replied, tears glistening in her eyes. “It wasn’t...like this...before.”

“
I know that frantic look all too well,” Lady Westwood said to no one in particular. “Her time is near.”

“
I’ll fetch the doctor,” Chase announced.

“
No...the midwife,” Anne panted between breaths. “And Nicolas...please hurry.”

Chapter Seventeen

Leah stood aside as the endless precession of servants carrying towels, blankets, and hot water rushed in and out of the guestroom. Finally the commotion slowed with just two maids who helped Lady Ashburn out of her dinner dress and into a cotton nightgown before they were dismissed.

Anne lay on her side with a pillow beneath her stomach. “What time is it, Aunt Margaret?”

“
Almost eleven.”

Tears of frustration welled in Anne’s eyes. “Where in heaven’s name is Nicolas?”

“
I’m certain he will return with the midwife soon,” Lady Chase soothed. “Try not to think about it.”

Pain momentarily disfigured Anne’s features, and she squeezed her aunt’s hand so hard her knuckles turned white. After a few moments her breathing returned to normal.

Leah hurried to the other side of the bed. “I feel so helpless. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“
No. I’m glad you stayed.”

“
There’s no other place I wish to be.”

Anne offered some semblance of a smile.

One of the maids returned carrying a tray with a pot of tea, several cups, and a bottle of brandy. She set the tray on a side table and left.

“
In my youth, I learned many valuable lessons regarding life from an old healer,” Lady Chase stated. “The most important lesson being this.” She poured three cups of tea and added brandy to one. “When it comes to giving birth, tea and strong spirits work together quite well.”

“
Whiskey is better,” Anne remarked before pain once again distorted her features. “Aunt Margaret?”

“
I’m right here, child.”

“
It comes and goes like waves crashing ashore. It was not so unbearable with Becca.”

“
I know, dear. Now sit up and drink this.”

“
Thank you, but I don’t care for any tea.”

“
Oh, but you weren’t listening, my child. Your tea is laced with brandy.”

Anne stared at her aunt for a brief second before she reached for the cup, her hands shaking, and downed the entire contents.

“
Would you care for another?”

“
Yes, but just the brandy please.”

“
Anne, you’ll be soused when this babe is born.”

“
What a perfectly blissful idea, Aunt Margaret. Oh...I forgot about Becca. She must be frightened.”

“
Father took the girls with him,” Leah told her.

“
Good. Young ladies should not be privy to this type of...” Her face again contorted with agony. “Dear lord, it’s getting worse!”

“
Shall I rub your back?”

“
It wouldn’t help.” Anne balled her fists, and she aimed a glare toward the bedroom door. “Damn you, Nicolas! Must you take your bloody time?”

“
Calm yourself, dearest.”

“
Aunt Margaret, bring me that blasted bottle of brandy.”

“
I’ll do no such thing. Close your eyes and rest.”

“
How can I? My body is literally being torn apart.” Anne drew a shallow breath. “Oh, this is all Hugh’s fault. And now he’s abandoned me.”

“
What nonsense,” her ladyship declared. “You know very well the viscount is away on business. Tell you what. Tomorrow morning we’ll send him a telegram.”

“
Yes! And I know exactly what to say. Leah, fetch me a pen and paper.”

“
Do you think this is the proper time to record malicious thoughts?”

“
Miss Sheridan has a point. Come morning you’ll feel quite different.”

“
I certainly hope so.” Anne rolled onto her other side, tugging the pillow with her.

Leah could think of nothing to ease her friend’s pain. “Lady Chase, I rather like your friend, Lady Westwood.”

“
Yes, Louise is unique.” She handed Leah a cup of tea and took one for herself. “I must say, her grandson seems to have taken a fancy to you.”

“
Mister O’Connell can be quite charming, but I doubt he has any serious interest in courting me.”

“
Does this disappoint you, my dear?”

“
Not at all.”

Lady Chase smiled.

“
That’s precisely the mistake we ladies make,” Anne declared bitterly. “They charm us. We swoon. They ask for our hand, and we do not know any better than to give it, along with whatever else they want.”

“
My dear niece, you mustn’t carry on so. It’s not good for the child. Breath deeply now...through the nose. Good.”

“
Lady Chase, I wonder if I might ask you a delicate question?”

“
Of course, Miss Sheridan.”

“
My father clearly admired your late husband, but you mentioned at dinner that your mother didn’t care for him. I was curious as to why.”

“
He didn’t kneel.”

“
I beg your pardon?”

“
When Bartholomew first asked for my hand, he didn’t kneel.”

“
And your mother took offense?”

Anne cried out in pain.

“
Breathe, dearest. That’s it.” Lady Chase soaked a cloth in a washbasin filled with warm water and placed it on Anne’s brow. “My mother believed if any man considered himself a worthy suitor for her only daughter, then he should drop down to one knee before asking for her hand. Since my father had done no such thing, he mildly disagreed.”

“
What changed her mind?”

“
Nothing my father said, I can assure you.” Her ladyship chuckled lightly. “Bartholomew was my oldest brother’s best friend, and he had always been a polite young man, but that day I glimpsed something different about him. He carried himself with determination and confidence. That dear, sweet man took both my hands, swore his undying love, and begged to rescue me from what he called pure insanity. As you can imagine, his bold comment deeply annoyed my mother, and faintly amused my father. After Mother expressed her indignation in an hour long lecture, Bartholomew did as she requested.”

“
He knelt?”

Lady Chase nodded. “In front of the Good Father, my entire family, and half the Macgregor Clan.”

“
How romantic.”

“
Indeed.”

“
Oh, dear lord!” Anne cried, writhing in misery. “If I live through this, I’m never speaking to Nicolas again. And Hugh...the very next time he dares enter my bedchambers, I’ll chop off his--”

Thankfully the bedroom door opened, and a middle-aged woman rushed into the room with two younger women trailing behind her.

The midwife nodded to Lady Chase before shifting her attention to the bed. “Lady Ashburn, did we not agreed that you would not birth this babe until next month?”

Anne glared at the woman. “Apparently this child does not approve.”

“
Come, Miss Sheridan,” Lady Chase urged, and she linked her arm through Leah’s. “Let’s go downstairs and keep Nicolas company, shall we?”

###

Nicolas paced up and down the foyer. The night had turned into an almost unbearable routine of angry curses followed by muffled cries coming from the upstairs guestroom.

What could be taking so long? Why the devil couldn’t the midwife give Anne something to ease her pain? Bloody hell, didn’t the woman know how to speed up the birthing process? If he hadn’t been forced to track her down in the next county, perhaps Anne’s ordeal would be over by now.

Sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs a servant had carried out to the foyer, Grandmother Margaret stifled a yawn. She looked tired. Twice he’d urged her to seek her bed, and twice she’d refused.

Leah Sheridan sat at the foot of the stairs with her back against the wall. She hadn’t spoken three words since he’d returned and each time Anne cried out, she grimaced as though she were the one in pain.

The grandfather clock positioned in a far corner broke the silence with a series of soft chimes.

Nicolas marched up to his grandmother. “Four hours,” he stated. “Four long hours since I returned with the midwife and her daughters. It is now three in the morning.”

“
I’m aware of the time, dear boy, but these delicate matters are not precise.”

“
So I’ve noticed. You should rest, Gran.”

She shook her head.

“
Madam, as master of the manor, I order you to bed.”

Her brow rose slightly. “This is not the time for humor, Nicky. And if humor was not your intent, you should seek your own bed before I do something most improper, like raising a cane to your backside.”

He placed his hands on both arms of her chair and leaned close so that they were eye to eye. “Grandfather Bart often preached that bluffing was a dangerous game. One better left to an expert.”

“
What causes you to believe I’m bluffing?”

He sighed. “Rest, Gran. I’ll wake you the moment there’s news.”

“
No.”