"No!" Miranda exclaimed sharply.

He stopped short, and his face went cold.

"I mean, either you do it or have him do it," Miranda told her mother-in-law. "But not both."

"That's the childbirth talking," Lady Rudland said soothingly. "You're not thinking clearly."

"No! He can do it if you want because he's…seen me before. Or you can do it because you're a woman. But I don't want you seeing me while he sees me. Don't you understand?" Miranda gripped the older woman's arm with uncharacteristic force.

Back in the corner, Turner suppressed a smile. "I'll let you do the honors, Mother," he said, keeping his voice flat so that he didn't burst out laughing. With a sharp nod, he left the room. He forced himself to walk halfway down the hall before letting laughter take over. What a funny little set of scruples his wife had.

Back in the bedroom, Miranda was gritting her teeth against another contraction as Lady Rudland peeled off her ruined dress.

"Is he gone?" she asked. She did not trust him not to peek in.

Her mother-in-law nodded. "He won't bother us."

"It's not a bother," Miranda said, before she could think the better of it.

"Of course it is. Men have no place during childbirth. It's messy, and it's painful, and not a one of them knows how to be useful. Better to let them sit outside and ponder all the ways they should reward you for your hard work."

"He bought me a book," Miranda whispered.

"Did he? I was thinking of diamonds, myself."

"That would be nice, too," Miranda said weakly.

"I shall drop a hint in his ear." Lady Rudland finished getting Miranda into her nightgown and fluffed the pillows behind her. "There you are. Are you comfortable?"

Another pain gripped her belly. "Not. Really," she squeezed between her teeth.

"Was that another one?" Lady Rudland asked. "Goodness. They are coming very close together. This may be an uncommonly fast birth. I do hope Dr. Winters arrives soon."

Miranda held her breath as she rode through the wave of pain, nodding her agreement.

Lady Rudland took her hand and squeezed, her face scrunching in empathy. "If it makes you feel any better," she said, "it's much worse with twins."

"It doesn't," Miranda gasped.

"Make you feel any better?"

"No."

Lady Rudland sighed. "I didn't think it would, actually. But don't worry," she added, brightening a bit. "This will all be over soon."


* * *

Twenty-two hours later, Miranda wanted a new definition of the word soon. Her entire body was wracked with pain, her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and she felt as if she just couldn't get enough air into her body. And the contractions kept on coming, each one worse than the last. "I feel one coming," she whimpered.

Lady Rudland immediately mopped her brow with a cool cloth. "Just bear down, sweetheart."

"I can't…I'm too…Bloody hell!" she yelled, using her husband's favorite epithet.

Out in the hall, Turner stiffened as he heard her cry out. After getting Miranda changed out of her soiled dress, his mother had taken him out of earshot and convinced him that everyone would be better off if he stayed out in the hall. Olivia had brought two chairs out from a nearby sitting room and was diligently keeping him company, trying not to wince when Miranda yelled out in pain. "That sounded like a bad one," she said nervously, trying to make conversation.

He glared at her. Wrong thing to say.

"I'm sure it will all be over soon," Olivia said with more hope than certainty. "I don't think it could get much worse."

Miranda yelled out again, clearly in agony.

"At least I don't think so," Olivia added weakly.

Turner let his face fall into his hands. "I'm never going to touch her again," he moaned.

"He's never going to touch me again!" they heard Miranda roar.

"Well, it doesn't look like you'll have much argument from your wife on that point," Olivia chirped. She nudged his chin with her knuckles. "Buck up, big brother. You're about to become a father."

"Soon, I hope," he muttered. "I don't think I can take much more of this."

"If you think it's bad, just think how Miranda must feel."

He leveled a deadly stare at her. Wrong thing to say again. Olivia shut her mouth.

Back in the birthing room, Miranda was holding her mother-in-law's hand in a death grip. "Make it stop," she moaned. "Please make it stop."

"It will be over soon, I assure you."

Miranda yanked her down until they were nearly face to face. "You said that yesterday!"

"Excuse me, Lady Rudland?"

It was Dr. Winters, who had arrived an hour after the pains had started.

"If I could have a word with you?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Lady Rudland said, carefully extricating her hand from Miranda's. "I'll be right back. I promise."

Miranda nodded jerkily and grabbed hold of the sheets, needing something to squeeze when the pain overtook her body. Her head lolled from side to side as she tried to take a deep breath. Where was Turner? Didn't he realize that she needed him in here? She needed his warmth, his smile, but most of all, she needed his strength because she didn't think she had enough of her own to get her through this ordeal.

But she was stubborn, and she had her pride, and she could not bring herself to ask Lady Rudland where he was. Instead she gritted her teeth and tried not to cry out from the pain.

"Miranda?" Lady Rudland was looking down at her with a concerned expression. "Miranda, darling, the doctor says you have to push harder. The babe needs a little help coming out."

"I'm too tired," she whimpered. "I can't do it anymore." I need Turner. But she didn't know how to say the words.

"Yes, you can. If you just push a little harder now, it will be over much more quickly."

"I can't…I can't…I- ohhhh!"

"That's it, Lady Turner," Dr. Winters said briskly. "Push now."

"I…Oh, it hurts. It hurts."

"Push. I can see the head."

"You can?" Miranda tried to lift her head.

"Shhh, don't strain your neck," Lady Rudland said. "You won't be able to see anything, anyway. Trust me."

"Keep pushing," the doctor said.

"I'm trying. I'm trying." Miranda clamped her teeth together and squeezed. "Is it…Can you…" She took a few giant gulps of air. "What kind is it?"

"I can't tell yet," Dr. Winters replied. "Hold on. Wait a minute…There we are." Once the head had emerged, the tiny body slipped out quickly. "It's a girl."

"It is?" Miranda breathed. She sighed wearily. "Of course it is. Turner always gets what he wants."

Lady Rudland opened the door and poked her head into the hall while the doctor saw to the baby. "Turner?"

He looked up, his face haggard.

"It's over, Turner. It's a girl. You have a daughter."

"A girl?" Turner echoed. The long wait in the hall had worn him down, and after nearly a full day of listening to his wife cry out in pain, he could not quite believe that it was done, and he was a father.

"She's beautiful," his mother said. "Perfect in every way."

"A girl," he said again, shaking his head in wonder. He turned to his sister, who had remained at his side throughout the night. "A girl. Olivia, I have a girl!" And then, surprising them both, he threw his arms around her and hugged.

"I know, I know." Even Olivia had a hard time keeping the tears in her eyes.

Turner gave her one last squeeze, then looked back to his mother. "What color eyes does she have? Are they brown?"

An amused smile spread on Lady Rudland's face. "I don't know, darling. I didn't even look. But babies' eyes often change color while they're small. We probably won't know for certain for some time yet."

"They will be brown," Turner said firmly.

Olivia's eyes widened in sudden awareness. "You love her."

"Hmmm? What did you say, brat?"

"You love her. You love Miranda."

Funny, but that tightness in his throat he always felt at the mention of the L-word was gone. "I- " Turner stopped short, his mouth opening slightly in stunned surprise.

"You love her," Olivia repeated.

"I think I do," he said wonderingly. "I love her. I love Miranda."

"It's about time you realized it," his mother said pertly.

Turner sat slack-jawed, amazed at how easy it all felt now. Why had it taken him so long to realize it? It should have been clear as day. He loved Miranda. He loved everything about her, from her delicately arched eyebrows to her often sarcastic jibes and the way her head tilted when she was curious. He loved her wit, her warmth, her loyalty. He even loved the way her eyes were slightly too close together. And now she had given him a child. She had lain in that bed and labored for hours under tremendous pain, all to give him a child. Tears welled up in his eyes. "I want to see her." He almost choked on the words.

"The doctor will have the baby ready in a moment," his mother said.

"No. I want to see Miranda."

"Oh. Well, I don't see any harm in that. Hold on just a moment. Dr. Winters?"

They heard a hushed expletive, and then the baby was thrust into her grandmother's arms.

Turner flung the door open. "What's wrong?"

"She's losing far too much blood," the doctor said grimly.

Turner looked down at his wife and nearly stumbled in terror. There was blood everywhere; it seemed to be pouring from her, and her face was deathly pale. "Oh, God," he said in a strangled voice. "Oh, Miranda."

I gave you birth today. I don't know your name yet. They haven't even let me hold you. I thought I might name you after my mother. She was a lovely woman, and she always hugged me so tightly at bedtime. Her name was Caroline. I hope Turner likes it. We never discussed names.