Samantha James (25 page)

He watched her as she slept, feeling the rise and fall of her breasts against him. His fingertips light and immeasurably gentle, he traced the outline of
her tear-ravaged face, the curve of her cheek. She was so trusting, so innocent.

All I wanted was to please you. I wanted to be the lady you thought I could never be
.

His heart squeezed.

What’s wrong with me, Gabriel? What’s wrong with me?

He thought of how she had cried, her spirit broken, her pride in tatters. He cursed himself again and again. Christ, but he had been so blind, so careless and hard. She had been so starved for love, for affection. Yet what had he given her?

Cassie
, he thought.
Oh, Cassie, what have I done to you?

It was then he felt it, a slight stirring there, where her belly pressed his side.

There was a life growing in her. A part of her…a part of
him
. How could he turn his back on that? On her? A wrenching pain ripped his insides. How could he do to his own child what his father had done to him?

Yet he knew how deeply he had hurt her. All along he had done nothing but hurt her! So what was he to do? Thrust her from his life? No. He could not. He
would
not.

Easing back just a bit, he spread his fingers wide on the mound of her belly. Holding his breath, he waited. His reward came scant seconds later—his unborn child rolled beneath his hand, as awake as his sire. The ghost of a smile touched his lips. He was glad that Cassie slept, for he knew if she awoke, she would no doubt slap his hands away.

He stayed that way for a long time, his hand on her belly, his palm conforming to her tummy, solid
and warm. Feeling and discovering. Stroking and marveling. Pondering…

And praying.

Eventually the babe’s movements quieted. Cassie slept on, unaware. Gabriel turned her in his arms, cradling her—cradling their child. Very gently he kissed the swell of her belly, her closed eyelids, the softness of her lips, then he lay back and closed his eyes.

It was a long, long time before he joined her in slumber.

W
eary beyond measure, Cassie slept through the morning and well into the afternoon. When at last she awoke, tepid sunlight slanted in through the curtains. The hour was indecently late. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting out its golden glow. The room was warm and cozy, yet she felt curiously tired and reluctant to move. And there was a nagging ache in her back.

Just then the door opened. “My lady?” whispered a voice.

It was Gloria. Cassie turned her head to find the little maid peeping through the crack of the door. When she saw that her mistress was finally awake, she rushed across the floor.

“Oh, my lady,” she cried. “You are home! Oh, I cannot tell you how glad I am that you have returned!” She dropped to her knees beside the bed, tears flowing freely.

Cassie smiled sadly and laid her hand on the girl’s head. If only for Gloria’s sake, she wished she could say it was good to
be
back. Yet she felt neither joy nor regret; indeed, it seemed rather strange to be at Farleigh once again.

Within minutes a tray of food was whisked onto her lap, including her favorite pot of chocolate. She had little appetite, but she forced herself to eat. While she ate, her bath was prepared, strategically placed before the hearth to take full advantage of its warmth. She soaked for a luxuriously long time while Gloria chattered on, straightening the bed and dusting as if her mistress had never been gone.

At last Cassie rose from the tub, giving herself over to Gloria’s capable hands. But she sighed when Gloria moved to the wardrobe. “I’m afraid my choices will be a bit limited,” she murmured. Her hand fluttered self-consciously to her middle. “I daresay not a one of those gowns will fit.”

Gloria plucked a voluminous flannel nightgown from the shelf. “No matter,” the girl said briskly. “His lordship gave strict instructions you’re to stay in bed and lift nary a finger.” She dropped the nightgown over her mistress’s head and twitched it into place. Then she brushed Cassie’s hair and left the tresses loose and flowing around her shoulders. The task completed, Gloria urged her mistress back into bed.

Though it was in her mind to protest such cosseting as silly and wholly unnecessary, Cassie leaned back against the plumpness of her pillow, telling herself she would rest for just a few minutes. Her body gauged its needs far better, however. Though she’d have sworn it nigh impossible, soon her eyelids began to droop. She dozed.

The blue-gray haze of twilight seeped within the room when she woke again. Stung by the sense that she was being watched, her eyes snapped open.

Gabriel stood on the threshold. Apparently he’d just come in from riding. Her heart gave an odd little catch. She’d forgotten how devastatingly handsome he was! His cravat was impeccably wound around his throat, spotless as always. He wore knee-high boots and tight breeches that shamelessly displayed his muscular thighs like a second skin.

Seeing that she was awake, he closed the door and strode toward her. Cassie braced her hands on the mattress and pushed herself up to a sitting position, feeling acutely clumsy and awkward, and keenly at a disadvantage—definitely not a desirable state when dealing with her husband! She pushed at the tousled length of her hair, wishing there had been time to run a comb through it.

He did not stand or take the chair at her bedside, as she expected. Instead he sat on the bed, so close she felt the steely hardness of his thigh against the softness of her own, even through the thickness of the quilt.

Anxiety gnawed at her. The memory of how she’d wept in his arms last night soared high in her mind. Did he despise her for her weakness? Was he disgusted for her lack of control? Her hands knotted atop the counterpane. She knew not what to say. She knew not what to do.

He caught at her hand. Strong, warm fingers curled around her own. She quivered slightly at his touch. That, too, she had not expected.

“Better today, Yank?”

She swallowed; her nod was jerky. The cast of his mouth was unsmiling, yet not so very grim. How much better prepared she was for his rancor—his kindness made her come all undone!

Gabriel’s gaze searched her features. She looked very young and vulnerable, her hair tumbling artlessly over her shoulders and down her back. But she was so thin! He could feel the fragility of her bones within his grasp. Her skin was like parchment, so pale and almost transparent. Despite her thickened waist, she seemed so frail she would break in half.

“Thank God I found you.” His voice was low and intense. “I shudder to think what might have happened had I not.”

Cassie stiffened.

His grip on her fingers tightened. not hurting her, but not relenting either. “No,” he commanded softly when she tried to free herself, “do not draw away.”

She said nothing. Her eyes, wide and anxious, grazed his.

“I meant what I said last night,” he said quietly. “I deeply regret the pain I have caused you.” He paused, and his voice grew softer still. “’Tis my hope we can put the past behind us and start anew.”

She trembled. This was a side of Gabriel she had yet to see revealed to her. Humble. Contrite. And she could have sworn tenderness lingered in the eyes that dwelled upon her. Tenderness and caring.

No…
no
. She dared not believe it. She
did
not believe it.

“I cannot think why you should want to.” Her tone was stiff. She could neither hide her bitterness nor deny it. Even now, she could still feel the sting of his anger when they had last parted.
“I bear your name but we have nothing else in common.”

A glint of anger flashed in eyes. “I disagree, Cassie. We have
this
in common.” In one swift movement he shoved aside the covers. Deliberately he laid both hands on the hard mound of her belly, splaying his fingers possessively wide. “You will soon bear my child. That changes everything.”

“That changes nothing!” She tried to push his hands aside but she should have known it was useless. When he was determined, there was no stopping him. And so in the end, she glared her indignant outrage.

“You made your feelings very clear, my lord earl, very clear indeed. You said you did not want a child, an heir. But in truth, you did not want a child of
me
.” A hot ache constricted her throat. Lord, but it hurt to say it aloud! “It’s just as I once told you, Gabriel. We are no different than your father and your mother!”

His jaw hardened. “You’re wrong, Cassie. You are my wife. I want this child. I want
you
.”

“Oh, stop!” she cried. “If there can be nothing else between us, then let there be truth, at least. I am nothing but the club you wield to hurt your father. I can think of only one reason you have decided you want this babe—’tis only because you see him as another weapon to use against your father!”

A dull red flush crept beneath Gabriel’s cheekbones. “I am trying to rectify matters as best I am able.”

“What! Do you tell me now that it’s guilt which prompts your concern? Oh, but I forget you will
someday be the duke of Farleigh. You must think of your duty, your obligations. And a wife and heir are among them, are they not?”

He snatched his hands from her belly. “I hardly think it’s wrong for a man to want to take care of his wife and child.”

Something twisted within her. If only it were so simple! She was suddenly overwhelmed, uncertain of her feelings, but most of all, so uncertain of his.

“You talk of what you want. But what of what
I
want? Were you thinking of me when you brought me back here?”

“That was my only thought!” He stood, towering over her, both irritated and frustrated. “My God, Cassie, have you looked in the mirror? You look like a wraith!”

She caught her breath—coming from him, such insult was unbearable. All at once she felt as if her world were splintering apart, but she would not let him glimpse her pain. And it was so much easier to seek refuge in anger.

“Oh, but I—I wish you had never found me. And I won’t stay here, do you hear? I won’t!”

“You would rather be back where I found you?”

“Yes…yes! I hate you…do you hear? I hate you!”

The muscles in Gabriel’s face seemed to freeze. “I refuse to let you go back to the life you were leading,” he stated through clenched teeth. “And you
will
stay here, Cassie, if I have to lock you in your room! For now, you are clearly overwrought and I see no point in continuing this conversation. I will return when you are feeling more rational.”
He spun around and strode across the floor.

Cassie shoved aside the blankets and swung her feet to the floor. “Oh, but ’tis just like you to walk away! But I won’t be pushed aside again. Do you hear? I won’t!”

He strode into the hall. His gait never faltered.

“Damn you, Gabriel…
Gabriel
!”

His name was a scream at the last, but mingled within was a note of desperation that sent ice running through his veins. He bolted back into her chamber. She stood at the side of the bed, one thin hand around the poster at the end of the bed, the other splayed upon her belly. Below her waist, her nightgown was soaked.

She raised huge, tear-bright eyes to his. “The water has broken,” she gasped. “Oh, God, the babe is coming…”

He bent. His arms came around her with almost painstaking gentleness. Very carefully he lifted her and laid her back down upon the bed. Looking up at him, Cassie spied on his face the one thing she had not expected to see…Fear.

It dawned on her then…She began to sob. “Oh, it can’t be now…it’s too soon. It’s too soon!”

He tried to straighten. She clutched at his hands. “Don’t leave me. Gabriel, please don’t leave me!”

Her piteous cry tore at him. “It’s all right, sweet.” He squeezed her fingers, then bent to kiss her quivering lips. “I must send Thomas for the physician. But I’ll be back within minutes, love, I promise.”

Love
. It was as if a giant pair of hands squeezed her heart. Gabriel didn’t love her—he would never love her. Yet his touch was so tender, his words so
sweet. She could almost have believed he cared, at least just a little…

Gloria soon rushed inside. “My lady!” she cried. “The earl said the babe comes!”

Cassie struggled for a calm she was far from feeling. Even while she longed for her body to be rid of its burden, she was terrified of the ordeal ahead. She tried to smile. “I’m sure it will be hours yet. First births are always longer, I believe.”

With Gloria’s assistance, her sodden gown was exchanged for a fresh one. She had just leaned back against the pillows when she experienced a sudden tautening of her middle. She gasped and let out her breath slowly. It was then that Gabriel reappeared. He displayed not the slightest hesitation whatsoever, but drew up a chair next to the head of the bed, bold as you please, and took his wife’s hands.

It was some time before the physician arrived. Dr. Hampton was a stout, pot-bellied old man with a kindly demeanor. Cassie had begun to pant softly at each gathering of her womb, for each such occurrence was longer and stronger in intensity. Gabriel, whose temper was simmering over the physician’s delay, took swift and vehement exception when he was politely but firmly advised to vacate his chair and wait downstairs.

“I will not be banished from this room. I was present when this child was conceived. I see no reason why I should not be present when he is born.”

Dr. Hampton rolled his eyes and shook his shaggy head. Most expectant fathers proved themselves a veritable nuisance and he fully expected the same
of this one. Yet as the hours wore on, it was clear the earl was the exception. His presence seemed to ease his wife’s fears as well.

As her labor progressed, Cassie tried to stifle her cries. As one especially strong contraction gripped her belly, a low moan escaped.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered when she was able to catch her breath. “I’m such a coward, I know.”

Gabriel’s heart contracted. Her eyes were two glassy pools of endless pain. With his fingers he brushed the damp strands from her brow. “A coward?” He chided her gently. “I think not, Yank. You’re a woman like no other—brave and strong—the strongest woman I know.”

Tenderly he wiped the beads of sweat from her brow, but his face was ashen as he watched over his wife and whispered encouragement. Had she spent these last months coddled and well-fed, he’d not have been quite so worried. But she was so thin, so weak, and it was as if he could see her struggle draining away her strength. And she possessed so little in reserve to begin with…

Another spasm knotted her womb, harder and longer than the rest. A tremendous pressure began to build, there between her thighs. Though she tried to mask her suffering, a cry of anguish tore from her lips.

Her nails dug into Gabriel’s palm, slicing his skin. When it was over, her head fell back upon the pillow, her beautiful hair matted and tangled. With a gasp she went limp—so limp that for an instant sheer panic leaped in his breast.

Deep down he was shaken to his very soul. He hated himself for his helplessness, yet there was
nothing he could do to help her. Icy tingles of fear ran along his spine. He alternately cursed and prayed. Christ! How much more of this could she stand?

But with the next contraction the physician’s voice rapped out sharply. “There, I can see the crown! When the urge comes, you must push and not fight it…yes, yes! That’s the way…I have his head…once more and then you may rest a bit…”

A thin, bleating cry filled the air. Gabriel did not see the tiny, wriggling body in the physician’s hands. His every sense, his entire being, was focused on the slight figure that lay prone in the bed. He bent and kissed her full on the lips. “’Tis done, sweet. I knew you could do it, I knew it.”

Gabriel rose to his feet. He was only half-aware as Dr. Hampton passed the infant to Gloria, then turned to deliver the afterbirth. He was still standing there numbly when he felt a tug on his sleeve. Gloria stood before him, her round face beaming. Shyly she placed a small bundle into his arms.

Slowly he pushed away the flannel covering, revealing the tiny new creature. He beheld a miniature little face with little dark brows screwed up in a frown. He swallowed, and saw pink, healthy skin, naked, flailing limbs…He stared in mingled awe and disbelief. A tremor of emotion rushed through him, weakening his knees, even as humble pride swelled his chest. He wanted to shout, to fall to his knees in prayer and thanksgiving.