“It is dark outside,” Mr. Joseph said out of nowhere.

His wife moaned, “What does it matter?”

Mr. Joseph laughed heartily. “It doesn’t, my dear. It was a bizarre attempt to draw your mind away and to give you strength to do the most miraculous thing a woman can do.” He kissed the top of his wife’s head.

Mary stiffened and pressed her hips upward. With a surge, the child slid into Elizabeth’s waiting hands. “Oh, my,” Elizabeth blurted and quickly turned the child over. Placing it on the clean cloths she had prepared, she began to wipe the blood and mucus from its body.

“Is it well?” Mr. Joseph demanded. “The child?”

Elizabeth ignored his question. “Stay,” she ordered when he started to move. “Mary’s body still has a job to complete.” All the time her fingers pried at the child’s small crevices with the soft cloths. “Come on, Little One,” she cajoled.

She lifted the child away from Mary’s body as far as the umbilical cord would allow. “I need help,” she mumbled.

“I will…” Mr. Joseph began again.

“No!” Elizabeth snapped. “Hold Mary. She has more pain to endure.” She turned her head toward the door. “Fitzwilliam,” she called. “I need you.” Immediately, the door opened. Her magnificent husband was where she expected him to be.

“What do you require? Is the child well?”

With her gaze, she indicated to Mr. Joseph to drop the sheet over his wife’s body. Then Elizabeth ordered, “You must help me cut the cord.”

In the next second, Darcy was across the room and kneeling at her side. “Tell me what to do.”

She stretched out the cord again. “Tie off the cord twice; once to stop the blood from Mrs. Joseph; once to stop the blood to the child. Then cut the cord between the two. Quickly, Fitzwilliam, so I can tend the baby.” Darcy did as she had instructed. Meanwhile, Elizabeth held the child close and began to urge the baby to take its first breath. “Come on, Sweet One.” She rubbed its back and pressed harder.

Completing the cut, Darcy whispered, “I have the child.” Darcy took the baby from her grasp. “See to Mrs. Joseph.” Then her husband walked away, the infant close to his chest. With an air of confidence, he swung the child around and laid it on the bed. “You can do this,” he said softly as he blew in the stone-still face. As she looked on, Darcy massaged the baby’s chest, placed a finger in its mouth to open it, and blew again. He bent closer and blew a third time. Finally, the Lord rewarded his effort. A twittering chirp escaped. “That’s right,” he whispered gravelly. “Once more.” He blew gently into the radish-red face. Finally, the infant opened its mouth and let out its own cry.

Darcy picked it up and turned to those on the other side of the room — only to discover a strange tableau staring intently at him. The picture of the three weary adults struck him as amusing. He laughed easily. “I assume you would like to meet Mr. Joseph’s son.”

Chapter 10

Elizabeth rushed forward to take the child from his arms. “My Goodness, what a miracle,” she said as she loosely wrapped the baby in a large cloth. “Come, Little One, and meet your parents.”

Behind her, Mr. Joseph rearranged his wife in his arms to better support her. “Our son, Mary,” he whispered hoarsely. “We have a son.”

When Elizabeth turned, she was startled to witness the pure love between a man and a woman, and for a moment, she wondered if her love for Darcy was as evident. Mr. Joseph caressed Mary’s cheek and stroked the damp hair from her face. His gentleness spoke volumes, and even though she knew Darcy loved her equally as well, Elizabeth drew the painful conclusion that without a child, something would always be missing. Swallowing back the loneliness, she hurried to deposit the child in Mrs. Joseph’s outstretched arms. “Master Joseph,” she said softly and kissed the screeching child’s forehead.

His mother’s finger stroking the boy’s cheek brought him the protection he had expected, and immediately, the child silenced. “He’s beautiful, Matthew,” she cooed.

Mr. Joseph reached around her and gently touched the baby’s tiny fingers. “The most beautiful child God ever created,” he rasped.

As Elizabeth looked on, the child’s fingers wrapped around Mr. Joseph’s pinky. Despite her happiness, she swayed in place, emotions overwhelming her. Immediately, Darcy was behind her. His comforting embrace encircled her, and Elizabeth allowed her husband to gently pull her against him. Darcy kissed the side of her neck. “If I’ve not told you recently,” he whispered close to her ear, “let me say how utterly amazing I find you.”

Elizabeth turned in his arms and collapsed against him, the adrenaline draining from her composure. Darcy held her tightly. “I’m frightened,” she murmured into his shoulder.

Darcy chuckled. “At least, you overcame the fear until the Josephs had their son.”

Elizabeth raised her chin to stare into his countenance. It was the face that she most trusted — the face of one who would never judge her — of one who accepted her foibles. “I did it,” she said in a gush of air. “Can you believe it, Fitzwilliam?”

“I always believed it,” he whispered. Darcy caressed her chin. “If anyone could save Mrs. Joseph’s life, it would be you.” Her husband glanced over her shoulder at where the Josephs still cuddled their child. “Let us step away and give Mr. and Mrs. Joseph a moment alone with their son.”

Elizabeth’s first instinct was to return to the woman, but seeing the Madonna-like look upon Mary’s face stilled her. She nodded and permitted Darcy to lead her to the other side of the room. They sequestered themselves behind the screen, and Darcy brought his wife into his arms. For Elizabeth, the exquisite feel of his strength bolstered her own. Instinctively, she raised her chin and accepted Darcy’s kiss. Gentle and loving, her husband’s embrace spoke of his devotion. “I love you,” she said as he released her mouth.

“And I you,” he said softly.They continued to speak in whispers. He cupped her chin in his palm and slid his hand down her slender neck. “How did you know I waited outside the door?” He smiled lovingly at her.

Elizabeth shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re not the type to spend your time drinking away the hours. Nor are you of the nature to desert a person for whom you care,” she declared. Elizabeth traced his mouth with her fingertips. “And I’m vain enough to believe I claim your affections.”

“Not vanity, my love.” Darcy kissed her fingertips.

Elizabeth smiled easily. “I knew you’d be near if I needed you.” She went on her tiptoes to brush his lips with hers. “How did you know what to do to start the baby’s breathing? When I attended Jane, the midwife rubbed the twins’ backs.”

“Do you not recall that Georgiana came early?”

“Now, I do, but I don’t understand the significance. Surely, no one permitted you access to the birthing room.”

“Although I wasn’t there, my parents often reminisced over Georgiana’s worldly entrance. Despite warnings from the previous Countess about his inappropriate actions, my father insisted on being with Mother. The midwife threatened to do away with him.” This story was a pleasant memory for her husband, and Elizabeth delighted in his relaxed countenance.

“With Georgiana’s early entrance, they were all caught unawares. My sister’s delivery was reputedly a speedy one. Small and lithe as she is, Georgiana’s only complication was her resistance to taking her first breath. The midwife pronounced her dead, but father would hear none of it. He willed Georgiana to life. He rubbed her chest and, literally, blew into her mouth and nose — saying later that her first breath smelled of the brandy he had downed to shore up his nerves.”