Free A Scandalous Marriage by Cathy Maxwell Page A

ominous. The air let in through the open door chilled him to the bone.
    Old Edith moved to the fire. Kneeling, she began to build it up. “We need boiling water.”
    “I’ll fetch it.”
    “The bucket’s over there.” She nodded to the wooden pail by the door.
    Glad to have something to do, Devon started to cross the room when Old Edith’s voice stopped him.
    “The lass’s labor is not normal. Something happened to set it off.” It was not a question but a statement, and yet Devon knew she was asking him what he had done.
    He went very still. In his mind he could see the image of Leah falling, hear the sound of her body hitting the frozen earth. “Will she be all right?” His voice was almost that of a stranger.
    Old Edith sat back on her haunches. “That’s not for me to decide. It’s in God’s hands now, but it will not be easy for her. She may lose the bairn.”
    Coldness gripped his heart. “And her? Could we lose her?”
    “Birthing is always dangerous.”
    If anything happened to Leah, Devon would never forgive himself. It wouldn’t be possible.
    “I’ll get water,” he said stiffly.
    “Aye.” She watched him open the door and then said, “Are you the father of her babe, my lord?”

    Devon turned to her.
    “Aye, I know who you are,” she said. Her squinty eyes seemed to bore right though him. “A fine friend of our own Lord Ruskin you are. We’ve heard tales. Your name is well known.”
    At that moment, Leah called for him.
    Old Edith’s lips twisted into a grim smile. “Auch, she needs us. You’d best get that water and then wait out in the other room. It will be a long night.”
    Numbly, Devon went to do her bidding.

Chapter 5
    The first hour did not pass quickly. Or the second.
    Devon had tossed his jacket and neckcloth onto the table. He was not a patient man. Waiting did not suit him. He paced the perimeter of the outer room, listening to Leah’s soft moans in the bedroom and worrying. And it did not sound as if Leah was coming closer to having the baby. The pains were not steady and regular.
    This was his fault. He shouldn’t have chased her. He didn’t even understand why he’d done so.
    When he thought he heard her call his name, he decided he had had enough. Impetuously, he flung back the curtain.
    Old Edith sat on the far end of the bed. Leah lay on her side, her legs bent, her eyes shut. She was naked save for the sheet covering her body. Her arms hugged her belly protectively. She appeared oblivious to the world around her, concentrating completely on the child struggling for life.
    “There must be something I can do,” he said almost desperately. “We can’t just let her keep on like that hour after hour.”
    “Have you ever been in a birthing room, my lord?” Old Edith asked bluntly. “It takes time. The babe comes when it is ready. It knows no clock but its own. Your only choice is to leave us be and wait.”
    She might have had her way, except Leah opened her eyes. She reached out with one hand. “Devon.”
    He hooked back the curtain and knelt beside the bed to take her hand. “Dear God, Leah, I’m sorry. So very, very sorry.”
    Another pain started to build. She cried out, her body tensing reflexively to the pain.
    Modesty be damned. Devon slipped his arm beneath her shoulders and began coaching as he had before the midwife had arrived. Leah had seemed to be doing better then. “Try and relax, Leah. Don’t fight it.”
    “They are hard pains she’s having,” Old Edith said. “But nothing’s coming of them.”

    Devon didn’t want to ask the questions crowding his mind. He feared the answers. Instead, he began running the side of his thumb up and down along Leah’s spine, pushing the sheet down. Her skin felt clammy and cold. It worried him. Leah’s head rested against his arm, and he could feel the movement of the pain through her body. He massaged harder, wanting to ease those tight muscles.
    Leah looked up at him with half slit eyes. “That