Intimate Deception (36 page)

Germaine tightened his grasp and brought Grace closer to the water.

She was losing her foothold on the loose dirt near the edge, and clods of earth fell into the pond with a dangerous splash.

A malicious grin changed Germaine’s features with each spatter, and he raised his right hand and pointed his gun at Vincent’s chest. Vincent knew he was going to die. Grace must have known it too.

With a tortured cry, she turned sharply and hit Germaine’s wounded shoulder.

He cried out in pain and lifted his uninjured arm. His hand connected with Grace’s cheek and her head snapped back from the force of the blow. Vincent saw red. White-hot fury erupted inside him.

He heard her scream, then saw her double over in pain. Her sudden movement pushed his cousin off-balance, and when Grace twisted to the side, Vincent raised the gun Fentington had given him and fired.

Germaine stared with horrified disbelief at the growing circle of blood that covered his chest, then jerked forward and fell headfirst into the water.

“Grace!”

Vincent rushed toward the edge of the pond and knelt beside her. His hands trembled as he reached out to touch her. He was afraid she’d shatter if he moved her.

She was lying on the ground, her body curled into a tight ball, her hands clutching her stomach. He knew something was terribly wrong. Her face was white, her skin hot and clammy, rivers of perspiration already dampening her forehead and cheeks. And she was in pain. He could see it in her eyes.

“Grace?” He placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her. He stopped when she cried out. “I’m here now, Grace. You’re safe.”

She gasped, her breathing harsh and labored. “He shot Carver. He’s hurt.”

“It’s all right, Grace. We’ll take care of Carver. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

“It’s the babe…Vincent. The babe’s…coming.”

A vicious blow jabbed him in the gut and he sucked in a harsh breath. He squeezed shut his eyes as he tried to keep his heart from leaping from his chest.

She gasped again and clutched her stomach when another wave of pain hit her. “It’s not time…Vincent. It’s too…soon.”

“It’s all right, Grace. I’ll send for the doctor.”

“No. Caroline. Send for…Caroline. She’ll know what to do.”

“Alice!” Vincent yelled, but Alice was already there, tears flowing down her pale cheeks. “Get your mistress’s room ready and have someone see to Carver.”

“He’s already being looked after, Your Grace,” she said, then raced back into the house.

Vincent cast a quick look down the path and saw a crowd of servants staring down at him, ready to do whatever he commanded.

“Someone go to Lady Wedgewood’s and tell her to come immediately. Make sure she knows to hurry. And someone get a doctor for Carver.”

Two footmen raced back into the house.

Vincent turned his attention back to Grace. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, her chest heaving as she struggled through the pain. He held her until her breaths came more easily, then placed his arms behind her. “I’m going to move you now, Grace. Put your arm around my shoulder.”

Grace nodded and placed her arm around him. Her grasp seemed so weak; her chest heaved with exertion. He picked her up, thinking she’d weigh much more than she did. Her lightness was another reminder of how delicate she was. How fragile. How easily he could lose her.

He’d only taken a few steps before another wave of pain racked her body. He held her tight while she rode out the worst of it, then carried her into the house and up the stairs.

He thought he knew fear. Thought he’d become immune to the helplessness. But nothing had prepared him for this. And the babe was coming too soon.

He wasn’t ready to lose her yet. He hadn’t had enough time with her. Enough time to love her.

He took huge, gasping gulps of air and held her.

“Vincent.”

“Yes.”

“You’re worrying.”

“No, I’m—” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yes, perhaps a little.”

“Have you forgotten my promise?”

“No. I remember what you told me.”

“Then you know there is no need for you to worry. I will be…fine. I have enough courage for…both of us.”

Vincent fought to keep his worry from showing. “I will try my best to remember that.”

They reached the room they’d shared since they were married. Alice met them at the doorway. “Stay with me, Vincent. There are some things I want to say before there isn’t time.”

Vincent nodded, then helped Alice get Grace out of her dress and into a gown. Twice they had to stop. The pains were coming with more frequency and more severity. When each attack was over, she collapsed back against the mattress, gasping for breath. He held her close, needing to touch her. To be alone with her.

“Alice,” he said over his shoulder. “Go down and wait for Lady Wedgewood. Bring her up the minute she arrives.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Alice bobbed a curtsy and ran off.

“I would go through this for you if I could,” he whispered, cupping her face in his palms.

She laughed, but it was a pain-filled laugh. “I think I would let you.” She looked at him, then clasped his hand and held tight as another spasm took her.

His blood ran cold. He didn’t think the pain would ever ease, but finally she breathed a sigh and lifted her head.

“Would you kiss me, Vincent? Please. Before the next pain comes. Before Linny gets here.”

Vincent lowered his head and kissed her with all the passion he felt for her. She kissed him back, and he couldn’t mistake the desperation. The fear.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. Then looked at her. “I love you, Grace.”

She tipped her head and there were tears in her eyes. “I’ve known for a long time that you did. But I’m glad you told me.”

He kissed her again, this time slowly and tenderly.

“I’ve prayed that someday…you’d be able to look past how I deceived you…and learn to care for me. For a long while…I told myself it wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t. But it does. Because I love you so desperately. I couldn’t bear to think that you couldn’t love me…just a little.”

“I do love you, Grace. More than a little. More than life itself. Promise me you won’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t—” she started, then ended in a cry when another pain hit her.

“I think…I’d like…Caroline to…hurry,” she gasped, sagging against him as the pain eased.

“Grace?”

He turned toward the doorway to see Caroline rushing into the room. She wore a concerned expression she tried to mask with a smile.

“Linny. I think my babe…has decided he wants to be born sooner…instead of later.”

“It’s all right. There’s never been a mother yet who’s had a say in when her babe comes.”

Lady Caroline took charge of the room, ordering Alice to stoke the fire and have plenty of blankets warmed. Then to keep water warm in the kitchen and to show Her Grace’s sisters up the minute they arrived.

Alice scurried from the room, issuing orders to the servants waiting to be of service.

“You’d best go down now, Your Grace,” she said, turning to Vincent. “Grace will be fine. We’ll all see to it.”

Vincent stood at the side of the bed where he’d been sitting and let loose of Grace’s hand. “I love you, Grace,” he said, kissing her once more.

“And I love you.”

He moved to step away from her then stopped. “I need a promise, Grace.”

She looked at him through pain-filled eyes.

“Promise you will not make me wait too long. I don’t think I can survive it if you do.”

“I will try my best, Your Grace. And I need a promise from you too.”

“Anything.”

“That you will not worry.”

He tried to smile. “I will try my best,” he answered, knowing neither of them had the power to keep the promises they’d just made.

“And take care of…Adledge. Don’t let him…wager any of his children tonight. Mary was terribly upset…when she found out they’d lost Timothy…to Hansley.”

“I will try my best.”

She’d lied to him.

She was making him wait a long time. Longer than he thought he could stay sane.

All six of his brothers-in-law were here with him, had been here for the past eight hours. They’d stood by him while he explained to the authorities what had happened,
then Hansley and Baldwin had taken Germaine’s body to his town house to be laid out.

Vincent checked on Carver and was assured by the doctor that with sufficient rest he would heal. Then he went back to the study to begin the endless torment.

He knew he should be grateful to his brothers-in-law. They did their best to keep him occupied, to entertain him and immerse him in topics they knew interested him. But nothing helped. He couldn’t keep his mind on anything but Grace suffering upstairs.

What if she lost the battle? She was so damn small. How did he expect her to birth his babe? And the babe wasn’t even supposed to come yet. It was more than a month early. Even he had recognized the worry on Caroline’s face when she entered the room. The risks of delivering a babe safely were that much greater when it decided to come early.

Bloody hell! He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t live without her.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and paced the room again, ignoring Carmody’s attempt to include him in their conversation. He couldn’t take this much longer. If he didn’t hear soon, he’d—

He turned around and stopped short when Lady Sarah entered the room. Her hands were clutched in front of her and there was a smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her face was pale and her worry was obvious. But the optimism he heard in her voice let him hope she was not bringing him bad news.

“The babe’s not here yet, Your Grace. But Grace sent me down to tell you she’s sure it won’t be long now.”

“How is she?”

Lady Sarah started to give him a glowing report of Grace’s condition, then paused as if she realized only the truth would suffice. “She’s tired, Your Grace.”

Vincent thought he would be ill. His heart lodged in his throat. He stood rooted to the spot, yet wondered how he managed to stand unassisted. His knees didn’t seem strong enough to hold him.

“She wanted me to come down to assure you she was all right and to remind you of your promise. She wants your word you will not worry. Your son will be here soon.”

Vincent dragged his hand across his jaw and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Please remind my wife that she promised it would not take overly long. Tell her I think it has been far too long already. I would like this finished.”

Lady Sarah smiled. “I’ll tell her, Your Grace.”

Lady Sarah gave her husband a concerned look, then turned to go back upstairs.

Lord Hansley followed his wife out of the room, and Vincent heard the two of them whispering quietly before she climbed the stairs.

“I’m sure it won’t be long now,” Hansley said when he came back into the room. “It just seems so terribly long because there is nothing we can do to help.”

All the other husbands agreed, and Vincent prayed that what Hansley said was true. Because if it wasn’t over soon he was going to lose his mind.

Four more hours passed, and Vincent knew something was terribly wrong. Mary came down after Sarah to reassure
him everything was going as it should, then Francine an hour or so later.

No one had come down for almost two hours now and he knew why.

Grace was dying. Birthing his babe was taking her life.

He paced the room from one side to the other, willing the frantic fear to calm, but it wouldn’t. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. He loved her. Loved her more than he thought it possible to ever love a woman. And he found himself doing exactly what Wedgewood said when Caroline was being delivered of her child. He prayed harder than he’d ever prayed before and promised God that if He brought her safely through this, he’d never touch her again. He’d never risk her life by getting her with child again.

Except Vincent meant it. If God would just let Grace live, he swore he’d never plant his seed inside her again.

If only she’d live.

The weight of his fear pressed more heavily against him, and Vincent couldn’t take any more. He had to know what was going on upstairs. Had to be with her. If she was going to die, he didn’t want her to die alone.