A Wedding Code Read online

  Obviously, Aunt Euphemia, a spinster, had no more experience than he did with the business of birthing. A high-pitched screech filled the room despite the partially closed door, and Derrick’s heart slammed against his chest at the daunting sound.

  The old gel had gone into the French mess and rescued women and children from the guillotine, but still a look of shock and fear spread across her wrinkled face. Did she recognize the same expression he was sure must be evident on his own face?

  Aunt Euphemia threw back the brandy like a seasoned drinker and then pushed her listing turban upright to carefully inspect his face. “Do you know that Amelia’s mother died in childbirth with the arrival of her youngest brother? I am to understand it was a traumatic experience for the sensitive young girl. She will need you to be strong for her during this time of her closest friend’s labor.”

  Derrick poured himself a hefty shot and, like the old gel, threw back the brandy in hopes the alcohol would quell his rising panic. He relished danger and a bloody good fight, but the idea of consoling Amelia during Lady Henrietta’s labor caused his heart to hammer against his chest the way it did when he tossed a man across a pub.

  The brandy warmed him as it went down his gullet but didn’t stop the sick feeling.

  Since he wasn’t a man to prevaricate, he placed his glass on the side table, despite the temptation to have another shot to steady himself. “I must go to her. May I top off your glass before I leave?”

  Aunt Euphemia cackled in a deep, manly voice. “Aren’t you the polite one under that giant, brawny body? You can’t top off something that is gone. You go. I don’t want Amelia alone. I can serve myself.”

  And, like Rathbourne, he bounded up the hallway staircase, taking two at a time.

  Chapter Three

  Derrick reached the top of the enormous stairwell and paused. The long hall stretched and twisted past endless closed doors. He had never visited the family’s private quarters, and had no idea which door opened to Aunt Euphemia’s drawing room. He definitely did not want to blunder into the labor room. He stood waiting for some clue.

  Brompton, the family retainer, his white hair combed severely back, came around the corner. “My lord, may I assist you?”

  “Much obliged, Brompton. I’m in search of Miss Amelia.”

  “Of course. I just brought a tea tray to Miss Amelia in Lady Beaumont’s drawing room.” Brompton gestured with his arm. “This way.”

  Brompton moved more slowly today, as if a weight pressed on his shoulders. Amelia told him the Bromptons had acted like grandparents to the young Henrietta and her family after the untimely death of their parents. “How is Lady Henrietta?”

  Brompton kept his slow pace down the hallway. “My wife is with her, and has reassured me that Lady Henrietta is progressing as expected during this difficult time.” The man delivered the message in his usual formal, precise manner.

  A high-pitched cry rent the air.

  The eerie sound grated on Derrick’s nerves, revving him into high alert, as if he were trailing a deadly French assassin.

  The momentary silence was followed by a loud, angry shout. “Oglethorpe, I’m going to rip you limb from limb if you don’t get this baby out.”

  “Oh, my,” Brompton said. “Not exactly what I would have expected from his lordship. But these are stressful times.”

  Both men stood, unable to move, as hushed voices responded to the outburst. Derrick waited, his senses vigilant for the next outburst.

  Brompton’s face was mainly in the shadows, but Derrick could see white tightness around the butler’s mouth.

  “I’m sure Lady Henrietta will be fine.” Derrick regretted the inadequacy of his reassurance, and prayed he was correct.

  “Thank you, my lord.” Brompton stared straight ahead as he opened the door. “Is there anything else you’ll require, sir?”

  “No, thank you.” Derrick paused before entering the room. No wonder Amelia was upset. His heart beat double-time because of his the close proximity to Lady Henrietta’s distress and the panic in Cord’s shouts.

  He might be a spy who thrived on danger and menace, but he was dismayed by the fear that permeated the house and its inhabitants. He straightened his shoulders and braced himself to do his duty. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Amelia attempting to push the heavy mahogany settee across the room. The lonely bewilderment in her eyes was a blow to his gut.

  He had never seen his vivacious Amelia, the competitive athlete, the darling of the drawing rooms across London, looking lost and vulnerable. Her hair was coming out of its pins, and her fashionable dress was rumpled and spotted.

  He lost all his trepidations upon seeing her and walked quickly to her side. “Amelia, why are you moving the furniture?”

  She glanced up as if she didn’t recognize him. Her normally bright eyes were wide and dimmed in fear. “I believe the room is unbalanced, and if the settee is moved to a ninety-degree angle to the table…”

  He lifted her into his arms and pulled her against his chest, holding her tight. “Darling, everything is going to be fine.”

  He felt her trembling against him when he sat on the settee, settling her on his lap. With her face pressed against his chest, she spoke in quiet desperation. “There is so much blood.”

  Derrick’s heart plummeted. God, that didn’t sound like a good sign. Could it be normal to lose blood?

  “And the pain. I didn’t know how to help her.”

  He rocked her gently and kissed the top of her head—lost for words, wanting everything to be better, but not knowing how to make it so.

  “I promised I’d be there, but I’m no help to Hen during this awful time.”

  He held her securely along the nape of her neck and spoke gently. “You’re doing what’s important. Being by her side is a help to Lady Henrietta.”

  Amelia shook her head against his hold. “No, she didn’t even seem to know I was there, or hear anything I said.”

  Derrick knew nothing about the pain of birthing, but he’d experienced enough serious injuries to understand overwhelming pain. A vivid memory flashed through his mind of the last time he was shot by Fouche’s man while trying to help Kendal escape France. The agony of the bullet lodged in his thigh as he gave chase, his vision tunneling, and the inability to do anything but focus on his mission: to protect Kendal.

  He stroked her soft hair. “She knew you were there. She had to save all her energy.”

  “How do you know about birthing?” Amelia looked up. Tears pooled in her smoky amethyst eyes.

  He tucked an errant, fiery lock behind her ear. “I know nothing about birthing, but I do know a lot about pain. Lady Henrietta has to focus on the birth of her baby.” He chose not to mention that probably she could only focus on keeping the pain at bay.

  Derrick didn’t loosen his hold on Amelia, and pressed her head back against his chest. He ran his hand down her spine, enjoying holding her, keeping her safe. He didn’t think Amelia could help at this point, but he understood her need, and admired her loyalty to her friend.

  “Her husband is with her right now. And Mrs. Brompton. You’ll be of no use to her if you exhaust yourself. You need to have some tea and sustenance.” If only he could convince Amelia to go outside, away from the house and the screaming, but he doubted she would abandon her friend.

  Amelia shook her head against his shoulder. He could barely hear her and leaned closer. She mumbled like a rejected child. “I’m not hungry.”

  That was surprising, since Amelia, unlike most women, ate like a man. No dainty bites for her. Probably a reflection of growing up in a household with her brothers.

  “I have to be with her. I promised to keep Cord and Michael away.”

  “Where is Kendal? I haven’t seen him since he arrived.”

  Amelia fingered the folds of Derrick’s cravat. “Gabby took her husband to the folly to distract him away from the house.”

  “Devious woman!” Derrick took Amelia’
s hand and pressed kisses to her knuckles. “Will you promise to distract me soon?”

  Derrick felt Amelia’s intake of breath, and his muscles clenched in response. Since they announced their wedding, Amelia and Derrick were scarcely ever alone.

  “Our wedding is only two days away.”

  It couldn’t come soon enough for Derrick. He missed his Amelia, her affection. A man who prided himself in his experience with women, Derrick was flummoxed by the changes in his fiancée. His laughing, spirited fiancée was overwrought over the wedding, and unwilling to permit him to use his best methods of helping her relieve the tension. Of course, his experiences with women were mainly in the boudoir, not negotiating a wedding with endless decisions of color choices, music, or hardly-known relatives demanding to be included.

  Amelia shifted her weight on his lap, and he tried to tamp down his physical reaction to her rounded derriere pressing against him. “Derrick, will you want to be with me when I’m in labor?”

  He tried to focus on what Amelia asked. But his brain was muddled. He was still thinking about being with Amelia, with no restraints on their lovemaking. What had she asked? She wanted him with her during labor.

  “Hen didn’t want Cord in the room because she knew he’d be worried and take it out on dear Dr. Oglethorpe.”

  “It was bit unrealistic of Lady Henrietta to think she could keep her husband away.”

  Amelia toyed with the buttons on his waistcoat. “But most husbands don’t want to be in the room. I can understand. It is quite messy and scary.”

  Derrick couldn’t stop the images of Amelia in labor, in pain and bleeding. He didn’t want her to suffer. He loved her and wanted to protect her from all upsetting things, but he knew she wanted children as much as he. Amelia screaming—the risk of her dying.

  He had to rethink his feelings about the birthing process. He couldn’t get past the fact that he might lose Amelia. No child was worth that.

  Amelia leaned back against his chest. “The baby is enormous. And she is a tiny woman.”

  Derrick didn’t have any response. When he saw Lady Henrietta two days ago, she was the size of a battleship. And she wobbled awkwardly under the weight of her impressive middle.

  “You’re so much bigger than Cord.” He was thinking the same thing. He didn’t want her to have a baby who was too large, who might kill her in childbed. Women, like her mother, died in childbirth. He couldn’t lose Amelia. He finally felt his life had purpose with her, planning their future.

  Another shriek filled the room despite the heavy doors.

  His hold tightened around her. “You’re right. The baby will be too big for you. We can’t… We won’t have children.”

  Amelia pulled away to look up into his eyes. “What?”

  “I can’t lose you. We won’t have children. I never want you to suffer.”

  Amelia watched his face, her eyes filled with concern. “Oh, darling, of course, we will.” She wrapped her arms around his middle. He was supposed to be comforting Amelia, but instead she was reassuring him.

  “I mean it, Amelia. I couldn’t bear for you to hurt like this.” His voice turned ragged from the tumultuous feelings overwhelming him.

  “But I want children. Remember, you promised me my own cricket team.”

  At the sound of someone approaching the door, Amelia pushed against his chest and got to her feet.

  Chapter Four

  Amelia brushed at her crumpled dress and tried to pin her falling hair back into place.

  Derrick came up behind her, standing close—so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him. “Darling, let me help with your hair.” She recognized the desire in his husky voice, and had turned to chide him to behave himself when the door swung open.

  Edward, Hen’s youngest brother, and Gus, a stocky Labrador retriever and the boy’s faithful companion, rushed into the room. Mr. Marlowe, Edward’s tutor, was supposed to have occupied Edward and Gus with a walk into town. She had spoken to Marlowe herself. Edward needed to be away from the distressing household.

  “I heard Hen scream.” His high-pitched voice cracked with emotion. “Why is my sister screaming?”

  An explosion of long-suppressed and painful memories racked Amelia’s body. No child should have to hear its mother screaming out of control.

  The fear in Edward’s voice mobilized her, and yanked her out of her own misery. She dashed to him and pulled him into her arms. “Hen is doing great, but there is always discomfort in childbirth.”

  Edward threw his arms around Amelia’s waist. Gus, who usually stalked the tea tray, instead leaned against Edward’s leg and crooned a low, keening sound of misery.

  “Your sister is very strong. She will not allow a little unpleasantness to keep her from having her baby. Trust me, before you know it, she’ll be back deciphering codes with you and Michael.”

  Derrick bent to reassure Gus. He rubbed the dog’s blocky head. “It’s okay, big fella.”

  Edward clung to Amelia. His desperate need quashed her raw memories. She was used to her two younger brothers looking up to her as their mother, and she couldn’t help responding to Edward’s hurt.

  “What happened to your tutor? I thought you all were walking into town.”

  Edward shook his head, but didn’t loosen his hold. “He has no orienteering skills. It isn’t even a challenge for me and Gus to lose him. We came to find out why we were suddenly sent on an excursion.”

  Like his older siblings, Edward was too intelligent to be easily fooled by her machinations.

  Amelia rubbed Edward’s sandy-blond hair, the exact color of his older brother’s. “Well, I’m not sure what punishment Mr. Marlowe will mete out for you and Gus for this latest transgression. But since babies can take a long time coming, I think we should work on your pitching.”

  “Cricket? You mean it? You’ll play with me?” Edward relaxed his grip on her waist. And Gus’s ears pointed on alert, and his tail thumped with pleasure.

  “But should we leave Hen?” Edward bent down to his dog, wrapping his arm around the dog’s wide neck. “She might need me and Gus.”

  “I think we have plenty of time to practice and still be ready to welcome the new baby.”

  “My mother told me that I took the longest to arrive because I was the biggest of all her babies.”

  “There, you see?” Hen had shared her worries about how Edward would feel about the baby following so soon after Michael’s wedding. “You already have something in common with the baby, since I think he or she is going to be big as well.”

  Considering the effort it would take for Hen to push out her large baby, Amelia needed to get Edward outside quickly.

  “You and Gus get the equipment, and Derrick and I will join you.”

  Edward stood and looked back and forth between her and Derrick. “You promise not to take too long?”

  “Of course not. Why would you think that? I must inform Mrs. Brompton where we’ll be.”

  “Michael always promises he won’t be long, but he and Gabby play kissy. It always takes the longest time. Isn’t that so, Gus?”

  Gus tipped his head to one side, and wagged harder.

  “Of all the outrageous things to say, Edward Michael Harcourt.” Amelia had to suppress a grin with Derrick’s chuckle.

  Derrick bumped the boy on the shoulder. “It won’t be long, Edward, and you’ll be wanting to play kissy-face, too.”

  “Ugh! Gus and I are remaining bachelors.” Edward looked around Derrick. “The tea tray. Exactly what Gus and I need before we play cricket. We had to walk a really long way to double back after leaving Mr. Marlowe in the woods.”

  “Why don’t you take the food outside with you? That way you’ll have everything ready for us to play,” Amelia said.

  Edward had no difficulty foregoing the tea time ritual of sitting down and demonstrating polite behavior. He rushed to the tea tray, popped a small biscuit into his mouth, and threw another to Gus, who caught the fly
ing treat with a snap of his jaws.

  Edward repeated the stunt with two more biscuits before piling bread and fruit into his hands.

  Amelia didn’t utter a word of reproof since she wanted the boy and dog away from the house.

  Derrick ambled over to Edward. “Need any help, old man?”

  “Can you open the door for me and Gus?” Edward spoke around a mouth stuffed with biscuit.

  “Of course.” Derrick popped a biscuit into his own mouth and, like Edward, tossed one to Gus. No wonder the dog was stout. If Mrs. Brompton ever found out her favorite biscuits were feeding Gus, there would be hell to pay.

  Edward walked out into the hall with Gus at his side in a strategic position to catch any falling morsels “You won’t take too long?” The quiver in his voice betrayed his worry.

  “Me? Take too long for a chance to play cricket?” She raised her eyebrows in mocking query, and the boyish grin spreading across Edward’s face was worth the lie.

  Edward and Gus took off in a run down the hall. Watching Edward’s retreating figure, Amelia prayed that Hen and her baby would be safe. She refused to contemplate any other outcome.

  As if he understood her dark thoughts, Derrick wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You were remarkable with Edward. I didn’t think I could fall more in love, but what you did just now has captured my deepest admiration. Miss Amelia Bonnington, you are an amazing woman, and I am a very fortunate man.”

  Amelia leaned into his strong chest, enjoying his heat, his warm words, and the feeling of safety. “I didn’t want him to experience what I did. I might not be able to help Hen at this moment, but she would not want Edward to be alone and afraid as I was.”

  Derrick tightened his hold. “I wish I had known you then. I would have protected you.”

  Amelia snuggled closer and stroked his large hands, which were resting on her abdomen. “My protector. I’m glad you’re here with me now.”