Gentlemen Prefer Mischief (25 page)

But now another squeezing in her belly left her unable to answer Eloise’s question, and both Eloise and Delia were looking at her.

“Hal,” Delia called out after watching her mute sister for several moments, “perhaps it’s time to send for the doctor.”

He was by Lily’s side in a trice, kissing her and gently scolding her for not telling him that her time was close, and calling for a footman to fetch Dr. Peters, who’d replaced Dr. Fforde. Matthew Fforde had left for the north three months earlier, with a large contribution from Hal and Lily that would ensure the doctor could spend his time caring for patients and not worrying about funds.

Against Lily’s feeble protests, her husband carried her up to their room and gently laid her on the bed. His brow was creased in anguish, and Lily, having just come through another contraction, reached up and cupped his cheek.

“My darling husband, all will be well.”

He sighed and squeezed her hand. “Yes. Yes, of course it will.” He smiled at her, and it was her favorite smile, the one that caused those irresistible dimples to form and lit sparks of mischief in his eyes, though the sparks were muted now. Unspoken between them was the awareness of how life would hang in the balance over the next hours.

Hal watched his wife with his heart in his throat.

“These past months with you have been the best of my life,” he said, knowing that the words were inadequate but needing to say them anyway. The thought of the pain she must undergo was agony to him, never mind the danger that always hovered during childbirth. “You’ve made me so happy, dearest Lily.”

She smiled her love back, reminding him there was no need for words between them.

Dr. Peters arrived then, and Hal moved to the edges of the room, out of the way of the doctor and Diana and Delia, and only coming closer now and then to murmur words of encouragement to his wife. He supposed that Dr. Peters found it strange of him to stay, but he could never have left Lily to bear so much alone.

Long hours later, Lily was safely delivered of a son who was both healthy and loud. Hal knew such relief mingled with joy that he felt dizzy.

The baby was carried carefully across the room to be wiped clean and fussed over by Delia and Diana while Lily lay propped up in bed, exhausted but serene. Hal knelt down beside her.

“He’s beautiful,” Hal said. “You are beautiful. The whole world is beautiful.”

She smiled. “You sound like a fool,” she said gently.

“I am, a happy fool in love with you and everything else. I feel surpassingly fortunate and grateful.”

“So do I,” she said.

The others slipped away and Lily watched as her beloved husband brought their son to her. He lay nestled in her arms with his parents smiling over his head.

She kissed the top of her son’s head. “Perfect,” she whispered.

“I always wanted to be perfect,” she said quietly to her husband, “but I never really knew what that was until I got mixed up with you. And then I discovered that the only kind of perfect I want to strive for is to be perfect in love.”

He leaned forward to kiss her with infinite tenderness. It was only a moment before their son began to fuss.

Hal smiled ruefully, gently rubbing their baby’s downy head. “He has impressive volume.”

Lily sighed, but her lips were quivering in a smile. “I suppose he’ll be full of mischief as well. He’ll need a weighty name to balance it out. Ethelred? Eadwig?”

Hal chuckled. “You really are much more mischievous than you look, my darling. And you know we’ve already agreed. Welcome to the world, Sebastian Everard Waverly.”

Emily Greenwood worked for a number of years as a writer, crafting newsletters and fundraising brochures, but she far prefers writing playful love stories set in Regency England, and she thinks romance novels are the chocolate of literature. A Golden Heart finalist, she lives in Maryland with her husband and two daughters.