The Earl of Pembroke: A League of Rogue’s novel Read online

  “James and some maids are having what we need brought up.”

  Charles sighed wearily. “Good. Because the babe is coming fast. The doctor may not arrive in time, and we shall need to be ready to deliver the child without him.”

  “All of us?” Audrey said, wide-eyed. Fearless as she was, Gillian’s mistress was a bit faint-headed around blood. This would not be easy for her.

  “Audrey, you must stay,” Horatia pleaded. Her body was then seized by a particularly painful contraction.

  “Of course I will,” Audrey promised, though her face was pale and ashen.

  Charles pocketed his watch and looked to the others.

  “There’s very little time between her pains,” Charles said, and then he touched Horatia’s face and forehead. “Horatia, have you been feeling pains all day?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, I just thought the babe was restless and kicking. I didn’t know it was coming, not until just after dinner.”

  “That’s all right. Babies sometimes come without warning. How are you feeling?”

  Horatia gasped. “Like I need to push…” She ended in a groan, her body bowing forward. Then she relaxed and faced Lucien, panting. “The nursery, you finished the cradle? Do they have the clothes ready?”

  “Yes,” Lucien promised, pressing kisses to her hand. “I should’ve known you were ready to have our child so soon. How did I not see it?” He bowed his head, his ruddy hair glinting in the firelight. Gillian ached for him in that moment, knowing how afraid he was for his wife and child.

  “Know? How could he know?” Audrey asked Gillian.

  “Some women intuitively know the baby’s coming and try to get everything ready. It’s a bit like birds when they start constructing their nests in spring.”

  “Oh.” Audrey stared at her sister, her brows drawn together. Gillian touched Audrey’s arm.

  “It will be all right,” Gillian said, praying it would be. An early birth could be difficult and dangerous for both the mother and the child.

  “Horatia, if you feel the need to push, then push. Gillian, I need you here,” Charles said.

  Gillian came over to the bed, and Charles pointed to Horatia’s legs.

  “Pull down the blanket and watch her for me. Keep her legs open, and I’ll tell you what to look for. Normally a woman would deliver on her side, but I think Horatia is more comfortable on her back.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Gillian knelt in front of Horatia’s legs and peeled the blankets away.

  “I’m frightened,” Horatia said suddenly, her knees starting to close, but Gillian grabbed her knees and kept them open. Then Gillian looked to Lucien.

  “Distract her, my lord. That might help.”

  “Distract…?” Lucien’s voice drifted a moment, and then he stroked Horatia’s face. “Remember that night at the midnight garden when we talked about the stars?”

  Horatia laughed, though the sound was tense. “Yes. I remember I felt so safe with you.”

  Lucien chuckled. “You were safe, very safe. You know I’d do anything to protect you.”

  Another labor pain came, and Horatia hissed and turned a vengeful eye on Lucien. “You did this to me! Oh!” She clutched at her stomach, and then a few moments later she relaxed a little.

  Horatia glanced at her husband. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…I know you only want to help. I would do the same for you.”

  “I know, love, I know. And you’re very safe right now. Charles knows what to do, and so does Gillian.”

  “Tell me a story,” she begged Lucien. “A good one.”

  He beamed a smile at Horatia. “Did I ever tell you about the time when Cedric and I were caught sneaking back into our residences at Cambridge one night? We could barely walk from the night’s revelries, and we were dragging a statue of Sir Isaac Newton, which we’d stolen from another college…”

  And just like that, the room relaxed as Lucien told her about his antics during university and Horatia calmed. Each time she had a labor pain, everyone in the room held their breath until it passed.

  Gillian relaxed as Lucien kept his wife’s attention. Charles coached Gillian to watch for the child’s head. When a patch of dark color emerged, Gillian wanted to weep with relief.

  “I see it. The babe!”

  Charles crouched over the bed beside Horatia, gripping her other hand. “Good.” Gillian knew he must have been in pain because Horatia’s fingers were leaving angry red marks on his skin as she squeezed, but he didn’t complain.

  “Lucien, hold her hand, don’t let go.”

  “I won’t,” Lucien answered, never taking his eyes off his wife.

  Charles used his other hand to brush his knuckles over Horatia’s forehead. “Now, Horatia, push when you can, and push hard. Time matters now. You’ve been in labor too long and we don’t want the child to become stuck and it may suffocate.”

  “Suffocate?” Horatia and Lucian both hissed in alarm.

  “Yes, so you’d better bloody well push!” Charles said firmly.

  Horatia screwed up her face in a snarl with a guttural cry and pushed.

  James and a footman rushed up the stairs, a heated knife, water, and towels in their arms. Horatia’s next scream rent the air, and James nearly stumbled but caught himself as he reached the top stair. When he reached Lucien’s room, he almost rushed in, thought better of himself, and knocked. Audrey opened the door, her face white as she grabbed the items from the footman. When she saw the knife, she just jerked her head for James to enter.

  “I don’t think I should—”

  “My sister does not care,” Audrey cut in. James followed her inside, eyes downcast until he spotted Gillian at Horatia’s feet.

  Bloody hell…

  Charles rushed over to James and grabbed the knife. “Be ready to catch the babe, Gillian.”

  James pressed himself against the wall, feeling useless and in the way, but he couldn’t make himself leave. He was fixed on Gillian as she reached beneath the tent of Horatia’s nightgown-clad legs and suddenly pulled out a small blueish-skinned baby. It was sticky and a little bloody and unmoving. He didn’t know much about children, but shouldn’t it have been crying?

  “I need a towel,” Gillian said, looking around.

  James was finally able to move and rushed over to her at the same moment Charles did with the knife. James had a moment of childish squeamishness and closed his eyes while Charles cut the cord and Gillian wrapped the baby up with the towels, gently removing the blood from its tiny features.

  “Is it all right?” Horatia’s weak voice came from the bed. “It’s not crying…”

  Gillian held the baby out to the others, uncertain of what to do. James saw at once by the baby’s blue face and hearing the soft little hissing sounds it made that it was struggling to breathe. Charles took the bundle from Gillian’s arms and held the child close, whispering to it and pressing on its chest. James joined him, leaning over to watch the child, praying under his breath.

  “Come on, little one. Breathe. Fight.” James willed every bit of his own strength into the child. Its face was so small, tiny hands clenching and unclenching as his little lungs struggled to breathe. Everyone in the room was silent except for Horatia, who suddenly started to cry. Lucien’s gaze was torn between his wife and the child Charles held.

  “Come on,” Charles growled, peering down at the child. “Come on, breathe.”

  “Please, little one, fight!” James breathed with all his heart.

  The little babe suddenly pinched its face and let out a deafening wail. James relaxed; the sound of a baby’s fitful scream was the most welcome thing he’d heard all day.

  “If he’s able to scream like that, I’d say he’s got a fighting chance,” Charles said with relief. He walked over to the bedpost and sagged against it, still cradling the child. Horatia and Lucien were wide-eyed and anxious as Charles handed the baby down to them.

  “He?” Lucien asked.

  “The chi
ld’s a boy. You’re a father.” Charles grinned. “And I just won ten pounds off Jonathan.”

  “Damnation, that means I owe Godric at least thirty,” said Lucien. “I was certain it was a girl. Only girls cause this much trouble.”

  Horatia let her head fall back on the pillows, groaning. “You stupid men were betting on my child? Do you think this was for fun?”

  Charles and Lucien looked at the ground.

  “Well, it had been rather fun, right up until this moment,” Lucien admitted.

  Horatia hissed. “Wait until I get my strength back. You deserve a good kick in the arse!”

  “Language, my love, language. Can’t be offending our new babe’s delicate hearing.”

  Charles snorted. “Lord, he doesn’t stand a chance with the League as his uncles.” The earl puffed his chest out with pride. “Just wait until the others see him! What a strong lad he’ll be!”

  James couldn’t resist grinning as he listened to their banter. He walked closer to Lucien.

  Lucien stared down in wonder at the child. “He’ll be the strongest of them all. Won’t you, my dear boy?” Then he kissed the infant’s head before placing him in Horatia’s arms. She sat back against the bed. A smile hung on her lips despite her obvious exhaustion and frustrations.

  “Thank you, thank you all,” she said to the occupants of the room. “You saved him—you saved us both. I don’t know what would have happened if…”

  James only nodded. There was a lump in his throat. He looked at Lucien and Horatia as they held their son, and then he saw Gillian watching them, one hand covering her mouth. When she looked away, their eyes met and held.

  “Would you wait for me outside? I must see to her ladyship, there’s still a bit of afterbirth for her to deliver and then I’ll be right out.”

  “Of course,” he promised and stepped outside. Something niggled at the back of his mind, however. Something she’d said.

  After half an hour, the door opened and Gillian emerged. When she saw him, her face lit up with a tired smile.

  “The mother and child are still well?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Once the doctor arrives, we will be sure. An early babe like him will face a difficult few weeks, but if she keeps him warm and keeps his cradle in the sun, I think he will be all right. My mother said that sunshine can cure many ailments in children.”

  “Thank the Lord.” James opened his arms, and Gillian walked into them, burying her face against his chest. Her body trembled against his, and he realized that she must be very close to Horatia to worry so much about her. James pressed his chin on the top of her head.

  He wasn’t sure how long he held her, but eventually he heard her say, “Take me to bed?”

  James smiled to himself. “It would be my greatest pleasure.”

  He took her by the hand, and they slipped down the stairs toward his bedchamber in the west wing. He planned to make love to her tonight and to finally take his time doing so.

  Gillian tried not to tremble as James closed the door and slid the latch into place. When he turned to face her, he was smiling.

  “I’m not rushing this time.” His voice was soft and teasing.

  “I don’t want you to.” She offered her back to him, and he came up behind her, his hands settling on her hips before they slowly slid up to her laced back. He threaded his fingers through laces of the gown. His gentle touch teased her.

  “Maybe you want to move a bit more quickly?” she suggested, her voice breathless.

  James’s low chuckle made her skin tingle in anticipation. He leaned down and feathered a kiss on her bare shoulder.

  “A little faster, then.” He nibbled her neck while his fingers plucked at the dress. It soon fell into a puddle at her feet. She slipped out of her petticoats and then worked at her stays. She couldn’t resist leaning backward to rub her bottom against him as she let her stays fall away.

  “Lord, how you tempt me,” he growled.

  Gillian shivered with desire at the rumbling sound. He was always so controlled, so gentlemanly, but when he was with her, like this, he always seemed on the verge of losing that control, and she liked it. It meant he wasn’t hiding anything from her—he was being himself. He was like this because of her.

  She turned to face him, wearing only her chemise, and reached for his cravat. He caught her hands and pressed kisses into her palms.

  “If I let you strip me bare, I won’t be able to stop myself, and I want you sated and exhausted long before I have my own way with you.” His smile turned positively devilish, and Gillian couldn’t stop the flood of wet heat between her thighs in response.

  “Is that so?” She tilted her head, offering him her neck. He licked his lips and grasped her by the waist, setting her down on the bed. She fell back, loving the way he pounced on her. James caged her with his body as he nuzzled her neck. Then he sat back, straddling her as he lifted her chemise up and off her body.

  Being trapped beneath him, completely naked, made her feel so very vulnerable, but not afraid. Being with him had never filled her with fear.

  James cupped one of her breasts, his hand caressing the sensitive peak. Gillian arched her back, pressing her breast more thoroughly into his palm. He gave a low groan. His hips rocked against her, and she could feel the hard press of his arousal between her thighs.

  “James, I don’t want to go slow.” Gillian clutched his arms, tugging on the fine white fabric of his shirt.

  “What do you want?” he asked, cupping her other breast now, massaging it before he leaned down and took the nipple into his mouth. The feel of his mouth on her skin made her whimper. Sharp hunger stung between her thighs, the pain of her need rising to a fever pitch.

  “I need you! Don’t be gentle, not this time,” Gillian begged. James tore at his waistcoat and shirt and pulled his trousers down just enough to free himself. Gillian reached down, taking his shaft and guiding him into her.

  The thrust went deep, so deep she swore she could feel him everywhere inside of her all at once, as though there was no part of her that was not connected to him.

  “Look at me,” he said. “I want to see your eyes.” James withdrew and thrust again and again. Gillian released a shaky breath as she held his gaze.

  They made love frantically, as though the world might soon end around them. Waves of ecstasy built into a tempo that matched their rapidly beating hearts. It was like nothing Gillian had ever experienced, this desperate union of bodies. The feel of his eyes on her, devouring the sight of her as he possessed her in a way that made her feel wild and yet safe.

  The turbulence of her emotions tonight, watching James talk to that woman during dinner, and then seeing Horatia and her child in danger and James holding the baby, willing it to live… She’d been driven to a state of desperation, a need to be with him in a way she would never regret, even if it could never last. Any reservations she had about denying herself a few more days with him were over.

  “Ah!” She gasped in sweet agony as a climax roared through her. Seconds later James whispered her name, a look of wonder and shock on his face as he let go.

  He lowered his head until his forehead touched hers, and he closed his eyes, breathing hard.

  Gillian held him, her arms curled around his body. He was such a good man, a wonderful man, a man she was falling hopelessly in love with.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low and rough. “I didn’t hurt you?”

  “No,” she assured him. “That was remarkable.” She stroked the tips of her fingers along the back of his neck, playing with his dark hair.

  “That feels nice.” He shifted around so that they rolled onto their sides. He kicked his trousers down off his body and shed his remaining clothing before he helped pull the coverlet back and they both climbed in.

  “I keep trying to seduce you slowly,” he said, smiling at her.

  “Perhaps I don’t need slow?”

  “Hmm.” He pursed his lips in a mock frown, a
nd she giggled. “Shall I put out the candles?”

  “Not yet. I want to lie here in your arms and look at you.” Gillian snuggled up to his lean, muscled body, clutching him as though he were precious.

  “I won’t argue with that.” He wrapped an arm around her and folded the other behind his head. They lay there for a few silent moments before she spoke.

  “I was so afraid tonight for Horatia and her child.” She held her breath, afraid to confess something like this. What if he didn’t wish to talk about it?

  “As was I. I’ve never been around a birth before. It was quite terrifying.”

  “I’ve been around one once. A neighbor who lived next to my mother and me went into labor, and we assisted before the doctor arrived.”

  “You don’t talk about her very much,” James said.

  “Who?” Gillian lifted her head to look at him and rested her chin on his chest.

  “Your mother. Would you tell me about her?”

  Gillian was silent a long moment and pressed a kiss to his chest before she spoke.

  “I loved her very much, but she wasn’t strong. She chose to be with my father because she thought it would give her a certain advantage, which it did, for a time, but after his death, she didn’t know what the cost would be to live alone.”

  “Your father left no provisions for you?”

  “I’m sure he had plans to at some point, but he never told us of anything before he died.” It wasn’t quite the truth. Her father had given her some small funds before he died, but he could not have left the estate or even a simple portion of it to them, not without the new heir, her half brother, having the power to rescind their father’s largesse. Gillian swallowed thickly and continued.

  “I was sensible, had always been sensible, and I found a way to survive, but his death took a toll on my mother, and she died from the strain. Sometimes…” Tears burned her eyes, and she stopped. James threaded his fingers through her hair. The touch was soothing, and she willed herself to continue.

  “Sometimes I feel relieved that I carry no more burdens, that I must rely only on myself. But at the same time, I hate feeling that relief.”