Of Silk and Steam
Page 57
“Sir!” the midwife protested. “What are you doing in here?”
“It’s all right, Ann,” Honoria murmured, looking up from the small weight cradled on the pillows beside her. Dark shadows circled her eyes and she looked pale with exhaustion, her voice whisper-soft, but the smile that softened her face was radiant. “Look, Leo. You’re an uncle.”
An uncle.
Until that moment, the baby had been an abstract thing, an idea that he couldn’t quite seem to comprehend.
Ignoring Mrs. Parsons’s clear disapproval, Leo crossed toward the bed. Honoria twitched aside the blanket with a wince, revealing a tiny little button nose that was set over rosebud-shaped lips. Emmaline had hair as dark as a raven. Leo’s breath caught, despite the sense of urgency he felt, and he leaned on the bed and held out a trembling finger to stroke the baby’s cheek. So soft. “Oh, Honor, she’s beautiful. She looks just like you, thank goodness.”
Honoria’s smile lost none of its warmth. “She’s so little. I’m afraid to pick her up.”
“You shouldn’t anyway, not in your condition,” Mrs. Parsons admonished. “You’re not to move for weeks yet.”
Weeks… That buzzing sensation lit beneath his skin, demanding that he scratch it.
“Emma,” he murmured. With her tiny eyelashes shut tight over her eyes, the baby yawned.
“Would you care to hold her?” Honoria asked.
“Mrs. Rachinger,” Mrs. Parsons murmured in disapproval. “It’s hardly the done thing… He shouldn’t even be in here. The birthing chambers are no place for a man.”
“He’s my brother,” Honoria shot back. She tried to shift and then gasped.
“Easy,” he warned, “don’t tax yourself.” As she settled, he couldn’t help noticing the ring of perspiration at her temples. She wasn’t going to be able to move anytime soon, no matter what Blade had said. He’d never been so fucking uncertain in his life. This was not the way he’d been raised. The Duke of Caine had seen fit to carve him into a weapon, to be ruthless if need be, but none of his childhood lessons had ever covered what to do when other people were involved. People that he cared about.
How the hell was he going to get her out of here if something went wrong? And the baby? His gaze drifted to that downy head again.
“Here,” Mrs. Parsons said with a huff of indignation. “I told you not to move.”
The midwife eased the bundle into his hands, and Leo felt a ring of cold around the back of his neck as he found himself completely in charge of his niece. More blankets than baby at this stage.
“How do I hold her?” He gingerly tried to cup his hand beneath her head. Emmaline’s little lip trembled, and her entire face screwed up as if she were going to cry. His stomach dropped. “I don’t think I’m—”
“Like this,” Mrs. Parsons said and repositioned the baby in his arms.
Beneath the blankets he could just make out the shape and weight of her, all tiny broomstick arms and legs, and a wobbling head. She smelled like Esme’s lavender soap.
Emma yawned again, a task that looked like it exhausted her. Blinking sleepily she rested against his chest, her dark eyelashes lowering against her pink cheeks. Her tiny fingers curled around one of his, and in that moment, he fell completely and irrevocably in love with her.
A breathless, painful moment.
If something went wrong, he would get her out. Both her and Honoria, no matter what he had to do. I promise, he thought, feeling those fingers circle his. Pride and arrogance gave way to crystal clarity. He was useless here, waiting for word from the wall, but Blade was correct. He would kill half the Echelon to keep his niece and sister safe, even if he died himself in the process.
“She has her father’s sense of timing,” he murmured, forcing the thoughts aside.
“As long as she doesn’t inherit his taste in fashion, we should be all right,” his sister replied.
They shared a smile, and he wondered, for the first time, what it would be like to hold his own daughter in his arms. To guess at her future, what she would be like…
He’d never been so enamored of a woman that he’d ever considered marrying one or fathering children with her. Only…the duchess, and he wasn’t quite certain what his interest in her signified, or if he could trust her. The thought washed the smile from his lips. Speaking of… She was rather significantly absent at the moment.
“The duchess?” he asked.
“One moment we’re speaking of babies, and the next you’re asking about the duchess. My, my,” Honoria teased wearily. “I wonder what I should read into that?”
“We’re in the middle of a war, Honor. And I’m not entirely certain I trust her—”
Emmaline made a sound in her sleep and he froze, looking helplessly at Mrs. Parsons. She slid her arms beneath his niece and returned her to Honoria’s side on the bed.
“The duchess went with Mrs. Doolan,” Mrs. Parsons announced. “And I think it quite enough time to have had your visit, sir. Your sister needs her rest.”
“With Esme?” There’d been no sign of the duchess in the courtyard.
“Have you heard from Lena?” Honoria asked sleepily.
A quick glance at Mrs. Parsons. Even he knew better than to upset Honoria in this condition. “No. Not yet.” He didn’t mention the fires burning in that section of the city, nor his certainty that Will wouldn’t rest at home if he knew his former master was being attacked by the prince consort. “I’m certain they’ll be along as soon as they can.”
“Perhaps they shouldn’t come.”
“Will won’t let anything happen to her.” Mrs. Parsons had presented Leo with the perfect opportunity to take his leave—and he was growing increasingly curious about the duchess’s whereabouts. If I were her and the opportunity presented itself, I’d run.
“Time for you to rest, Honor. I’ll check in on you from time to time.”
She caught his fingers. “Let me know if anything happens, or if Lena arrives. I feel so helpless lying here.”
That, he certainly understood. Leo squeezed her fingers. Honoria had never been the type of woman to wring her hands and wait at home for the menfolk to arrive. She was the first to push up her sleeves and take control of a situation. “I’ll send word immediately. You should take some inspiration from your daughter and get some sleep.”
“It’s all right, Ann,” Honoria murmured, looking up from the small weight cradled on the pillows beside her. Dark shadows circled her eyes and she looked pale with exhaustion, her voice whisper-soft, but the smile that softened her face was radiant. “Look, Leo. You’re an uncle.”
An uncle.
Until that moment, the baby had been an abstract thing, an idea that he couldn’t quite seem to comprehend.
Ignoring Mrs. Parsons’s clear disapproval, Leo crossed toward the bed. Honoria twitched aside the blanket with a wince, revealing a tiny little button nose that was set over rosebud-shaped lips. Emmaline had hair as dark as a raven. Leo’s breath caught, despite the sense of urgency he felt, and he leaned on the bed and held out a trembling finger to stroke the baby’s cheek. So soft. “Oh, Honor, she’s beautiful. She looks just like you, thank goodness.”
Honoria’s smile lost none of its warmth. “She’s so little. I’m afraid to pick her up.”
“You shouldn’t anyway, not in your condition,” Mrs. Parsons admonished. “You’re not to move for weeks yet.”
Weeks… That buzzing sensation lit beneath his skin, demanding that he scratch it.
“Emma,” he murmured. With her tiny eyelashes shut tight over her eyes, the baby yawned.
“Would you care to hold her?” Honoria asked.
“Mrs. Rachinger,” Mrs. Parsons murmured in disapproval. “It’s hardly the done thing… He shouldn’t even be in here. The birthing chambers are no place for a man.”
“He’s my brother,” Honoria shot back. She tried to shift and then gasped.
“Easy,” he warned, “don’t tax yourself.” As she settled, he couldn’t help noticing the ring of perspiration at her temples. She wasn’t going to be able to move anytime soon, no matter what Blade had said. He’d never been so fucking uncertain in his life. This was not the way he’d been raised. The Duke of Caine had seen fit to carve him into a weapon, to be ruthless if need be, but none of his childhood lessons had ever covered what to do when other people were involved. People that he cared about.
How the hell was he going to get her out of here if something went wrong? And the baby? His gaze drifted to that downy head again.
“Here,” Mrs. Parsons said with a huff of indignation. “I told you not to move.”
The midwife eased the bundle into his hands, and Leo felt a ring of cold around the back of his neck as he found himself completely in charge of his niece. More blankets than baby at this stage.
“How do I hold her?” He gingerly tried to cup his hand beneath her head. Emmaline’s little lip trembled, and her entire face screwed up as if she were going to cry. His stomach dropped. “I don’t think I’m—”
“Like this,” Mrs. Parsons said and repositioned the baby in his arms.
Beneath the blankets he could just make out the shape and weight of her, all tiny broomstick arms and legs, and a wobbling head. She smelled like Esme’s lavender soap.
Emma yawned again, a task that looked like it exhausted her. Blinking sleepily she rested against his chest, her dark eyelashes lowering against her pink cheeks. Her tiny fingers curled around one of his, and in that moment, he fell completely and irrevocably in love with her.
A breathless, painful moment.
If something went wrong, he would get her out. Both her and Honoria, no matter what he had to do. I promise, he thought, feeling those fingers circle his. Pride and arrogance gave way to crystal clarity. He was useless here, waiting for word from the wall, but Blade was correct. He would kill half the Echelon to keep his niece and sister safe, even if he died himself in the process.
“She has her father’s sense of timing,” he murmured, forcing the thoughts aside.
“As long as she doesn’t inherit his taste in fashion, we should be all right,” his sister replied.
They shared a smile, and he wondered, for the first time, what it would be like to hold his own daughter in his arms. To guess at her future, what she would be like…
He’d never been so enamored of a woman that he’d ever considered marrying one or fathering children with her. Only…the duchess, and he wasn’t quite certain what his interest in her signified, or if he could trust her. The thought washed the smile from his lips. Speaking of… She was rather significantly absent at the moment.
“The duchess?” he asked.
“One moment we’re speaking of babies, and the next you’re asking about the duchess. My, my,” Honoria teased wearily. “I wonder what I should read into that?”
“We’re in the middle of a war, Honor. And I’m not entirely certain I trust her—”
Emmaline made a sound in her sleep and he froze, looking helplessly at Mrs. Parsons. She slid her arms beneath his niece and returned her to Honoria’s side on the bed.
“The duchess went with Mrs. Doolan,” Mrs. Parsons announced. “And I think it quite enough time to have had your visit, sir. Your sister needs her rest.”
“With Esme?” There’d been no sign of the duchess in the courtyard.
“Have you heard from Lena?” Honoria asked sleepily.
A quick glance at Mrs. Parsons. Even he knew better than to upset Honoria in this condition. “No. Not yet.” He didn’t mention the fires burning in that section of the city, nor his certainty that Will wouldn’t rest at home if he knew his former master was being attacked by the prince consort. “I’m certain they’ll be along as soon as they can.”
“Perhaps they shouldn’t come.”
“Will won’t let anything happen to her.” Mrs. Parsons had presented Leo with the perfect opportunity to take his leave—and he was growing increasingly curious about the duchess’s whereabouts. If I were her and the opportunity presented itself, I’d run.
“Time for you to rest, Honor. I’ll check in on you from time to time.”
She caught his fingers. “Let me know if anything happens, or if Lena arrives. I feel so helpless lying here.”
That, he certainly understood. Leo squeezed her fingers. Honoria had never been the type of woman to wring her hands and wait at home for the menfolk to arrive. She was the first to push up her sleeves and take control of a situation. “I’ll send word immediately. You should take some inspiration from your daughter and get some sleep.”
