Protection (32 page)

Wonder filled his eyes, and Lisa smiled, anticipating his answering grin. When his
brow furrowed instead, her face fell.

“We’re going to be parents. I’m
going to be a father.”

“A wonderful
father,” she said firmly. “Kind, caring, involved.
Our child will have two
parents who love it dearly.”

Nathaniel nodded, his expression solemn. “He, or
she,
won’t be abandoned in the nursery, only brought out once or twice a week for a visit
with his mother or left wondering if he’s somehow displeased his father as he sees
him so rarely,” he added, and her heart ached for the lonely little boy he must have
been.

Hugging him tightly, she was pleased they were on the same page when it came to the
rearing of their children. Once more, they would be going against convention, as Lisa
planned to follow in her mother’s footsteps. Having escaped from the strictures of
formal court life to live amongst the peasant and working classes of rural France
before meeting and marrying Lisa’s father, her mother had known which model she wanted
to follow. While wisely accepting assistance when required, rather than situate the
nursery in the most remote location of the house, she’d had it located next to the
parents’ suite.

“You’re still planning to nurse our babe yourself?” Nathaniel asked, not for the first
time.

Lisa nodded, and he blew out a slow breath.

“That’s something I should very much like to see,” he murmured, his gaze dropping
to the bodice of her gown. Tilting his head back up with a finger under his chin,
their gazes met, hers rueful and his chagrined.

“I would have thought you’d had your fill of staring at my naked breasts.”

“Never! Though my desire to see our babe at your breast is not entirely puerile,”
he defended. “There is something about the thought of
my
wife nursing
my
child that stirs very primitive instincts in me.”

“Considering we were engaged in a rather primitive act when this particular babe was
conceived, I suppose that is understandable.”

“Since when have you considered our lovemaking primitive?”

“Since I’m fairly certain I became with child the morning we were acting out my dream,
that’s when.”

Nathaniel’s eyes widened. “Here . . . on my desk? How can you be sure?”

“Well . . .” Lisa pulled a face. “Rebecca discovered an alternative
method, a way to calculate the ‘safe days’ when a woman’s fertility is supposedly
low. I thought a break from using the sponge would be welcome, but my calculations
must have been off.”

“Or Rebecca’s source
didn’t know what they were talking about,” Nathaniel said dryly.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind? I’m thrilled you’re going to have my child.”

The grin Lisa had been waiting for finally appeared, and she breathed a sigh.

“But I do own to being relieved it’s not necessary for us to reveal the details of
the babe’s conception. It will be difficult enough explaining to our children the
circumstances surrounding their parents’ less than conventional introduction.”

“True.” Lisa laughed, gazing up from her place on his lap to the portrait of the two
of them that held pride of place over the fire. She had painted it as a gift for his
twenty-fifth birthday, since the painting she had nervously given him for their second
Christmas together had been such a success. She was convinced her husband was biased,
although she had to admit the art tutor he’d found to instruct her was far superior
to the one who had discouraged her when she was a girl.

The first portrait she had painted was a more formal composition of Nathaniel alone,
and he had insisted on hanging it prominently in the grand entranceway where the portraits
of his ancestors were displayed. This painting of the two of them showed her seated
with Nathaniel standing behind her and to the left, one hand placed on her shoulder
and a smile on both their faces. Lisa had left ample space around them for additions
to their family as they arrived. The image her mind superimposed onto the painting
of their baby resting in her lap was one she looked forward to making a reality.

Chapter 30

Family

“It’s too quiet, damn it. I heard a few cries earlier, but now she’s not making any
noise. Why isn’t she making any noise?”

“Would you rather she were screaming?”

Hugh’s tone might have been droll, but the effect of his words was predictable considering
the state of Nathaniel’s nerves.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” He took a break from his frantic pacing to
stalk towards his best friend until Hugh was backed up against the wall.

“Nothing, Nate. Now calm down.”

“I haven’t seen my wife for a day and a half, and I’m bloody worried. Don’t tell me
to calm down!”

“Nathaniel, lower your voice.” Rebecca placed a hand on his arm. “You’ll upset Lisa
with your yelling.”

His anger drained away as quickly as it had roused, and Nathaniel hung his head. Maybe
he should have taken his father’s advice, after all, and gone for a long ride, but
he hadn’t wanted to be away from the house in case Lisa needed him. For what, he couldn’t
say. A father’s presence wasn’t welcome at a birth.

At the sound of a baby's cry, Nathaniel spun to face the bedroom door. He stepped
towards it, then hesitated, his thoughts spinning in every direction. Ignoring Hugh’s
slap on his back, a blow that would have felled a smaller man, he froze in place.

After an interminable wait, one that seemed to last for hours but was probably only
ten or fifteen minutes, the midwife poked her head around the door. “Lord Marsden?
Yer wife’s ready to see ye now.”

He didn’t budge, and she beckoned him over.

“Come now. After all her hard work, she’s eager to show off yer new bairn. Ye don’t
want to keep her waiting, do ye?”

“No, of course not,” he murmured, summoning the courage to enter Lisa’s room.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered as he slowly approached the bed where she sat propped up
against the pillows, a tiny bundle in her arms. She looked utterly exhausted and beautiful
and as if she were glowing from the inside, her smile was so bright.

“Look.” She dropped her chin to the babe. “We have a son, Nathaniel, a healthy baby
boy.”

Speechless, he knelt down beside his wife and child, awed by the sight.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” she said, tilting the babe a fraction so Nathaniel could see
him more clearly.

He didn’t disagree, despite the fact his son’s face was red and scrunched up like
an old man’s.

“He’s wonderful.” He finally found his voice. “As are you. Are you all right? I heard
you cry out a few times . . .”

“
Shh
 . . .” She shook her head. “I’m well. A little sore, a
lot
tired, but perfectly all right.”

She reached for his hand, and he entwined their fingers, squeezing hers gently. Still
struggling to find words, he blinked back the moisture that pooled in his eyes. Then
their son made an odd, snuffling noise, and his attention was diverted.

“He’s so tiny,” Nathaniel said, and Lisa harrumphed. He glanced up to see her pull
a face, and his already overwrought conscience took another stab at his heart. “Not
that I’m saying . . . it must have been very difficult . . . I think you’ve done an
amazing job . . .”

“It’s over, and our son is a perfect, healthy
size for a newborn, or so the midwife assures me.”

Nathaniel nodded, silently repeating the vows he had made himself during the hours
of waiting and pacing that, whatever the outcome, one child would be enough. Lisa
had provided him with an heir, not that he would have cared if the babe had been a
girl. Either way, he wasn’t willing to risk her life again, not when he considered
that her mother had died giving birth to her second
child. Besides, he honestly didn’t think he would survive the ordeal again.

The baby made an odd snuffling sound, and their gazes returned to their son.

“He’s got your hair,” Lisa whispered, fingering the damp locks that even in this muted
light showed a hint of curl.

“He’s got your eyes . . . well, the shape. I wonder what colour they’ll be?” Nathaniel
gently stroked the silky soft skin of his son’s flushed cheek.

Lisa’s eyelids began to droop, and he stroked her damp hair back from her forehead.

“Thank you for bringing our son into the world.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry it took so long.” She yawned, and the midwife came and picked
up the babe, leaving Lisa to nestle against the pillows.

Leaning down to softly kiss her lips, Nathaniel tucked the blankets around her. “I
love you more than I would have thought humanly possible.”

“I love you, too,” she murmured. “Both of you.”

“All right, that’s enough of that.” The midwife chuckled and placed the sleeping babe
in Nathaniel’s arms. “Time for her ladyship to rest. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye
on her.”

With one last smile for his beautiful wife, the Marquis of Marsden went to introduce
his son and heir to his extended family.

Two months after his birth, Lord William Stanton, Viscount Matthews—one of his father’s
lesser titles—and future Marquis of Marsden was christened, a reverent and yet joyous
affair. After the sumptuous luncheon at Marsden Park that followed the service in
the village chapel, Nathaniel had the joy of unveiling Lisa’s latest painting. It
was one their families had seen before, the portrait she had painted of the two of
them that hung in Nathaniel’s study, but with one very important addition—their son
nestled in her lap, resplendent in the lace christening gown that had been worn by
generations of Stantons.

Despite attempting to hold firm to his vow they would only be having the one child,
two and a half years later their families were reunited for the christening of their
second son.

His wife was braver than he. When Nathaniel would not be swayed, she took matters
into her own hands, taking advantage of him in a moment of weakness when he was half
asleep. Thankfully, Lord James Stanton came into the world after a blessedly short
and far easier labour, or so Lisa insisted. Six hours still seemed like an inordinately
long time to endure such suffering. It took even less time when their twin girls were
born three years later, but it felt a lot longer as Nathaniel had been sick with worry
at the knowledge she had to give birth
twice
. While both their sons took after their father in appearance, Lady Patricia and Lady
Elizabeth Stanton were the image of their mother, with red hair, big green eyes, and
smiles that had both Nathaniel and their older brothers wrapped around their little
fingers within weeks of their birth.

Baby number five came as somewhat of a surprise four years later.

“A gift,” Lisa told Nathaniel firmly, despite the fact it was their getting completely
carried away during a long carriage ride on one of the rare occasions they spent away
from their noisy, growing brood—forgetting both timing and precautions—that precipitated
the babe’s arrival. Another beautiful little girl to complete their family and keep
her father on his toes, Lady Louise Stanton had her mother’s nose and chin but Nathaniel’s
dark hair and blue eyes, to his wife’s open and his secret delight.

Nathaniel and Lisa’s love flourished along with their family, his pride in his wife
growing with her accomplishments. At his insistence, her paintings graced the walls
of both Marsden Park and Marsden House in London. A few even found their way into
the homes of their closest friends and family, as her confidence in her ability grew
enough for her to accept the requests she received to paint their portraits also.

Lisa’s work with the young girls rescued from the city’s brothels inspired some of
their peers to perform similar acts of charity, though they seemed no closer to making
such evil practices illegal.

The antislavery laws were eventually passed, which gave them all cause for rejoicing,
but whilst young girls and boys continued to be abused in their places of employment
and forced into prostitution, their work was far from done.