Rose also had experience with childbirth and could answer questions about it that neither she nor the twins could.
“Where’s Graelem now?” Rose asked as they climbed the stairs and reached the landing only to find no one in the hallway. “I thought you said he was pacing outside the door.”
“He was. Oh, dear. He must be inside with Laurel.” Daisy hurriedly led them into the bedchamber that Laurel and Graelem shared. It wasn’t the thing for husbands and wives to share quarters, but Farthingales were not known for their adherence to the rules of Polite Society. Laurel had insisted on sharing her husband’s bed. Rose had demanded the same of her husband, Julian. Neither man had voiced complaint. In truth, each seemed remarkably content with the arrangement.
Daisy wondered whether Gabriel would consent to similar terms when he returned. When he returned. She repeated the words in her mind, for she wasn’t about to let him die. She’d go to France herself to save him if she could.
Laurel moaned, regaining her attention. She was stretched out on the bed, Graelem seated on a stool beside the bed clutching her hand. Graelem glanced up to acknowledge their presence, utter panic and despair etched in his proud features. “Laurel’s having our baby.”
Dillie managed not to roll her eyes at the obvious statement. “I know,” she said gently. “That’s why we came as fast as we could.”
Daisy tried not to cringe, but she knew Graelem was a disaster in the making. Rose, as capable as she was, would not be able to handle him on her own. The twins would have to help keep him downstairs and out of the way once the midwife arrived. “Lily, did Amos come with you, by any chance?”
Lily adjusted the spectacles on her pert nose and nodded.
“Good. Take him with you to find Uncle George and bring him here.”
Daisy breathed a sigh of relief as Lily hurried off. Now to her next problem, how to get Graelem downstairs. Rose capably took the reins by stepping to his side and placing a hand on his obviously tense shoulder. “Julian was a wretched mess when my time came, but I can tell you that I wanted him out of our bedchamber for my sake. First of all, I wasn’t pretty. Also, I was in a lot of pain and couldn’t let it out because I knew it would break his heart if he saw me suffering. I’m sure Laurel’s feeling exactly as I did.”
Laurel smiled at her husband. “I love you, Graelem. Please go. You can stomp and pace to your heart’s content downstairs, wear a hole in our ridiculously expensive carpets. Please.”
He said nothing for a long moment, then reluctantly nodded and let out a growl. “I love you, my bonny lass.” He placed a tender kiss on her brow. When he rose, Daisy noticed that he was putting delicate weight on the leg he’d broken last year, or rather, that Brutus—that beast of a stallion—had crushed last year.
Daisy pursed her lips in concern, knowing by his limp that he was in silent agony. He’d never admit it, though.
“I could almost hear him ache for Laurel,” Dillie said in a whisper. “Love does that, I suppose. Of course, I’m too young and innocent to know about such things.”
So am I, Daisy thought to herself, for she and Gabriel had not consummated their marriage, an oversight she meant to correct the moment he returned... assuming he wished to remain in the marriage and not seek an annulment.
She shook her head and sighed, refusing to think about that awful possibility.
Dillie interrupted her thoughts. “Tell me what to do, Daisy.”
“I wish I knew. If only Mother were here.” But the Farthingale elders had gone off to Windsor, some grand affair at the Duchess of Lowesbury’s estate. Her father thought it best to continue with their plans even though her mother and Julia were still distressed about the Malinor debacle. Daisy hoped that a garden party in the countryside would calm them all down.
Laurel let out a gasp and sank back onto her pillows. “Sorry, the little imp kicked me hard. Caught me by surprise, that’s all.” Then she gasped again, this time letting out a grunt. “He’s going to be a big oaf, just like his father.”
As Laurel’s gasps and groans grew more frequent, Daisy’s concern increased. Where was that midwife? And where was Uncle George? “Maybe Rose had better take over up here.”
“No,” Laurel said, clasping her hand. “Not yet. Graelem will panic and come running back up here. Leave them downstairs a while longer.”
As silence descended—except for Laurel’s increasingly anguished gasps—Daisy began to fretfully nibble her lip.
Dillie was now kneeling beside Laurel, her own lips quivering as though she were about to cry. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to let her stay up here.