Belton, rendered speechless, staggered back a step, allowing not only O'Toole room to enter, but also the man and woman who accompanied him.

"Take me to her immediately." The order, given so quietly, carried a deadly threat.

"This way, my lord." Belton's face flushed because the daughter of the house was in the servants' quarters.

When Sean stepped into the small chamber, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He was too late for the birthing, and by the look of things he was almost too late for anything. His entrance awoke a sleeping servant, but the girl tied to the bed with a drowsing child at her breast did not even rouse. The burned-down candles provided scant light.

"Light the lamps," Sean bade the servant, as he went down on his knees beside the bed and took Emerald's limp hand into his own. The lamplight flared, revealing exactly what he had feared. Emerald was ill. Her pallor was like death. He smoothed the damp hair from her brow and felt her fever burn his fingers.

He was outraged that his beloved lay on soiled sheets. Behind him he heard Paddy Burke exclaim, "Holy Mother of G.o.d!" Murder rose up in Sean. He knew a need to kill her father and her husband for the acts they had committed and for their gross neglect. With an effort he let the violence fall away from him. He must not spare even a thought for anyone save Emerald and their newborn babies.

He heard Kate Kennedy draw in a ragged breath. "We need a priest. This wee soul has drawn its last breath."

Her words galvanized him to action. He s.n.a.t.c.hed the tiny bundle from Kate and looked down into a little blue face. Swiftly, he bent his head to the sc.r.a.p of humanity and gave it his own breath. "We need no priest. There'll be no dead to shrive this night!"

When the infant began to struggle for its own pitifully shallow breaths, Sean handed it back to Kate. He unbound the strips of cloth that tied Emerald's leg to the bed and said urgently, "We've got to get them out of here." The baby boy, slumbering beside his mother, opened his mouth and began to scream. Sean plucked him from his warm coc.o.o.n and thrust him at Paddy Burke.

"Clear a path for me," he ordered, then lifted Emerald into invincible arms.

Carrying her downstairs and through the front door, Sean felt as though he had retrieved something utterly precious that had been lost. No. That he had almost thrown away. He set her inside the carriage as gently as he could.

Emerald opened her eyes, then closed them again, murmuring, "No more."

The words scalded Sean's heart. He knew she was in no condition to be jostled about, but it was not her leg that worried him; he feared for her very life. He knew Emerald was paying for the sin he had committed, and he wanted to curse heaven for the injustice of it.

Mr. Burke handed the child he carried to Kate, then climbed up with the driver. Sean crouched on the carriage floor, holding Emerald as still as he could. The ride from Portman Square was brief, taking only minutes, but to Sean, in his race against time, it felt like hours.

Their arrival at Old Park Lane turned the household into a hive of activity. The entire staff was summoned and given specific duties. One was dispatched for a doctor, fires were lit in every chamber, water was heated and beds prepared.

Sean laid his precious burden on the snowy linen. He murmured huskily, "It will be all right, love. Trust me!" As his eyes swept over Emerald and their babies, his priorities were jolted into line. He turned anguished eyes upon Kate and Paddy.

"Tend them for me." It tore at his heart to relinquish Emerald's care to others, but he had no choice, his efforts were needed elsewhere. "I need whisky," he told Mr.

Burke.

Sean carried the silent little bundle before the sitting-room fire and carefully unwrapped it. Sean's icy heart melted when he saw the tiny female. When Paddy brought the bottle of Irish whisky, Sean poured some into his palm, warmed it at the fire, and began to rub it directly on the baby's skin.

He began at the tiny chest, then turned the baby over and ma.s.saged its little back. With gentle fingers he rubbed his daughter's arms and legs, then ma.s.saged her tiny b.u.t.tocks. Beginning again at the baby's rib cage, his hands stimulated the infant's circulation.

After an hour the ominous blue tinge began to disappear. After two hours the little female's skin turned a frightening red. Sean cursed himself for a clumsy fool. He had been overzealous in his efforts, He tucked the baby in the crook of his arm and went to the kitchen. "Have we any milk?" he asked the chef's a.s.sistant.

"A milkmaid delivers fresh milk every day, my lord."

"I need a cloth sterilized; linen would be best."

The kitchen maid set a pan of water to boil and produced a linen serviette. As the cloth boiled she said, "With two babies, my lord, you need the services of a wet nurse."

"Why didn't I think of thata"can you get one for us?" he asked eagerly.

She smiled, happy he was open to her advice. "The agency that places butlers and house servants provides such a service. English ladies do not suckle their own babies, my lord."

Sean carried a cup of milk and the linen napkin back to the sitting-room fire.

He poured a bit of the smoky whisky into the milk, then dipped in a corner of the linen cloth. Holding open the baby's mouth with his fingers, he began to feed his daughter one drop at a time.

Suddenly, she began to choke and Sean momentarily froze, horrified at what he had done. He turned her over and smacked her narrow little back. All at once a lump of mucus dislodged from the infant's throat. The moment Sean cleared it from the baby's mouth, she took in a great gulp of air and let out a thin, pathetic little wail.

"Good girl, Daddy's girl. Come on, it's time for breakfast."

Paddy Burke came to the sitting-room door. "G.o.d in heaven, that's an encouraging noise. Now, if I could only shut this lad up."

"There's milk in the kitchen, and in the morning we're getting a wet nurse. Did that b.l.o.o.d.y doctor come yet?"

"He'll be along at daylight. Physicians to the wealthy set their own rules."

Sean's intense gaze held Paddy's. "How is she?" "Kate says she's lost a lot of blood. Our la.s.s is weak and exhausted, but at least she's clean." Paddy did not tell him Emerald was still feverish and becoming delirious.

It was not until Sean had painstakingly fed his daughter a quarter cup of milk, drop by drop, that it dawned on him the other twin was a male child. So, he had one of each! At least for tonight he did.

All of his ridiculous convictions did an about-face. As he looked clown at the tiny sc.r.a.p in the crook of his arm, he knew there was a G.o.d, a supreme being who held dominion over heaven and earth. He shook his head at his own arrogant folly.

When you held your own baby in your hands and its life hung by a thread, you acknowledged G.o.d's existence fast enough. Not only did he begin to pray, he did so fervently, beseechingly, opening his heart to G.o.d's love.

What a self-righteous swine he had been to insist there was no room for love in his heart. At this moment his heart overflowed and love poured from him. He loved this woman and these children beyond reason, with all his mind, all his heart, and all his soul. He had more love than they would ever be able to use in one lifetime. His love was eternal, it would go on forever.

When his tiny daughter slept, he wrapped her snugly. He did not delude himself about the baby's chances. She was too small and too frail. She would need constant care, love, and attention; even then her chance for survival would be a slim one. His own mother had been a twin; her baby brother had not survived.

Sean carried the sleeping infant to the bedchamber and laid her on the wide bed. He placed his hand on Kate's shoulder. "I want you to get some rest. I'll take over here."

Kate immediately protested.

"Kate, I mean it. You'll be no use to her if you're dropping on your feet."

"I'll put my legs up for a couple of hours," Kate consented. "Now here's a pile of clean linen for the bed and I have one of the maids tearing up flannel sheets for baby nappies."

"Thank you, Kate."

"Oh, and I asked yer fancy chef to make some barley water. There's nothing like barley water for an invalid. Would you believe it, he didn't have a clue. Devil fly away wi' the man! I'll just go and make sure he's doing it properly."

Sean looked down at Emerald with alarm. Her face was no longer pale, it was flushed a dull red. Her eyelids were heavy and swollen closed. She murmured continually, incomprehensibly, as her head moved restlessly on the pillow. He touched the back of his fingers to her cheek, confirming that she was still hot with fever. Though Kate had bathed her, Emerald was no cooler. He decided to do it again.

He fetched a bowl of tepid water and a sponge to her bedside. As he worked, he talked to her. "Kate probably struggled to get you into this pristine nightgown, but off it comes, my beauty. You'll be much cooler, and only I know you prefer to be quite naked in bed. There, now, that's better." He grimaced at the soiled bandages on her leg. If the doctor didn't arrive by the time he'd bathed her, he would remove the bandages himself.

He sponged her face and throat over and over with infinite patience until they seemed to cool down. Then he sponged her shoulders and her arms. He noticed that when he kept up a running conversation, Emerald quieted. As he bathed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s he saw how motherhood had enhanced their natural beauty. They were enlarged, firm and smooth as satin, her nipples rosy and moist.

"You are a rare beauty, Emerald my love; a true Irish beauty! I'm going to take you back home as soon as you're strong enough to travel. You've done a magnificent job, Irish. You once told me you'd give me a son, but you outdid yourself! Not only did you give me a boy, but a wee la.s.s too."

He tenderly sponged her tummy, still swollen and distended from the birth.

"Not a stretch mark in sight, thanks to Tara's magic potion." He bathed her unbound, sound limb, gently blotting her dry with a linen towel. When he touched her now, it seemed to him that she was somewhat cooler.

He eyed the soiled bandages and made a decision. "I'll try not to hurt you, love, I'll try not to hurt you ever again." On sea voyages he'd set broken bones, so he wasn't a complete novice. He unwrapped the leg and examined it closely from top to bottom. With his fingers he probed her unswollen thigh. When she did not flinch, he decided her thighbone had suffered no injury and the splints were unnecessary.

The lower part of her leg told another tale. It was swollen and puffy from knee to ankle. Obviously, it was the tibia bone she had fractured, and Sean hoped and prayed it was a clean break. Slowly, gently, he bathed and patted dry the limb. He then tore a linen sheet into strips. Making sure it wasn't too tight, he bound the leg firmly, swathing it in layers of linen until it was secure and immobile. As the swelling went down, the bandage could be tightened.

Paddy Burke let the doctor in and brought him to the bedchamber where the patient lay. Dr. Brookfield introduced himself, examined the leg in a cursory fashion, and concluded it had been tended quite adequately. "Tallin a bone heals, or it does not." He could sec the Earl of Kildare would not be put off with half-truths. "If she stays off the leg for six weeks, it should heal."

"She's feverish, Doctor. What can I do to break it?"

Brookfield took Emerald's pulse and felt the temperature of her skin.

"Childbed fever is very common. Generally, those who receive good nursing care and are kept clean, stand the best chance of recovery. Those who are neglected die.

But sometimes just the opposite occurs."

Sean had to curb the desire to take the doctor by the throat to choke off his ba.n.a.l plat.i.tudes. Obviously he had no intention of doing anything, he was simply there to state his opinion. He continued, telling Sean what he already knew.

"The birth was complicated because it involved twins. She most likely hemorrhaged. If she does not recovera""

Sean cut him off. "She will recover, Brookfield. Tell me what to do to speed that recovery."

"You could try to get some liquids into her and I'll leave you a sedative. Since I'm here, I may as well take a look at the infants."

Suddenly, Sean didn't want him pa.s.sing his pompous opinion on his babies.

"They will be fine, Doctor. How much do I owe you?"

Brookfield glanced at the pitifully small bundle on the wide bed. "It doesn't look fine to me. Kildare, you are an intelligent man; one who can face facts, I'm sure.

With twins, one usually thrives, one fails. Infant mortality is high, even for normal, healthy children. Prepare yourself for the inevitable; this baby will not survive.

Sometimes death is a blessing in disguise."

"Get out," Sean said tersely. He closed his eyes. Christ, can I not get through one night without committing violence? he thought.

"Paddy!" he bellowed. Mr. Burke came in immediately, and set his sleeping bundle down on the bed. "See the doctor out, while he's still in one piece," Sean said quietly.

Sean prayed that Brookfield's words had not penetrated through Emerald's torpor. There was nothing wrong with her hearing; she had responded to his own voice. He set about rea.s.suring her in a confident tone he was far from feeling. "Our babies are right here with us. They've been fed and now they are having a nap. I'm going to get you a drink; your lips are very dry."

He would begin with cool water. If she kept that down, he would try her with barley water. He brought a cup of each to the bedside and wondered how to go about the business so that she would not choke on the liquids. He eased the pillow from beneath her head, then sat behind her, against the bed head. Gently as possible, he raised her shoulders until she lay half reclined against his chest.

Emerald's head rolled against his shoulder, then nestled there as if she had discovered a comfy spot. Sean raised the cup to her lips and urged her to drink.

"Just a tiny sip, now. That's right, that's good! You are really thirsty and no one gave you a drink. Have a rest now, catch your breath."

He switched to the barley water, and again raised the cup to her lips. With infinite patience and encouragement he managed to get half a cup of liquid into her.

When she could swallow no more, he set the cup aside and simply held her. He did not think she was much cooler, but she was far less restless.

Sean wanted Emerald to know that he was there with her. He wanted her to know that he had come back for her. He needed her to realize it was he and no other who held her against his heart. Gently taking her hand, he curved her fingers around the place where his thumb was missing. By touching his maimed hand she would know it was Sean O'Toole and no other.

Perhaps his body could draw off some of her heat; perhaps his body could infuse her with some of his strength. He set his mind to it, knowing all the while that it was a coping device, yet telling himself fiercely that if love could heal her, he would surround her with it, saturate her with it. He didn't know if it was imagination or wishful thinking, but he thought he felt Emerald's fingers tighten their hold on his hand.

Sean sat holding her for hours. Darkness turned into dawn, then dawn turned into clear morning light. He watched his son awaken and start to cry. Sean's mouth curved as he watched the little imp become furious in his demand for food and attention.

Kate appeared and picked him up. "We have a wet nurse at last. This child is the living, breathing image of you. G.o.d help us all!"

"Perhaps we should get a wet nurse for each of them." He did not try to hide his fear that Emerald might not recover. "What do you think, Kate?"

"Emerald's milk will come in today. She will suffer terrible discomfort if she doesn't suckle one of them. Perhaps she'll be well enough by tonight."

Kate's words encouraged him and spurred him on. Today he would double his efforts to get liquids into her, and he would bathe her every hour. If it was humanly possible to break her fever, Sean O'Toole was determined to do it.

The efforts of the entire household were concentrated on one thing and one thing only: making sure that this mother and her babies survived. Mr. Burke went out and returned with a cradle that rocked. Two servants were sent on a shopping expedition to buy baby clothes, blankets, nappies, bottles, and teats. Kate sat with Emerald while Sean bathed, changed his clothes, and wolfed down some food. Then he returned to hold her, talk to her, sponge her down, and coax her to drink.

Daylight faded into twilight, then gradually full darkness descended. Sean sat quietly propped against the head of the bed, enfolding Emerald in his arms. His gut was knotted with fear because she still hadn't roused. Gradually, he became aware of a growing dampness between their bodies. Suddenly, his hopes began to soar. He felt her brow, then moved his hand down her cheek to her throat. Emerald was soaking wet; her fever had broken!

34.

This time after Sean bathed her, he helped her into a nightgown, then lifted her from the bed so that fresh sheets could be put on it. He talked to Emerald softly, telling her where she was, explaining that Kate and Paddy were here to help take care of her.

"Don't try to talk, love; it will only tire you. All you have to do is get well; we will do all the rest."

Though she didn't answer him, Sean knew Emerald understood what he was saying. He smiled often to rea.s.sure her, but inside he was pure panic. He knew the best rea.s.surance that all was well would be for her to see her babies. But if she saw her daughter, she would become frantic with worry. Though Emerald's fever had broken, she was far from well and Sean suspected her recovery would be slow and tenuous at best.

He sat on the side of the bed and took hold of her hand. "Did you know you had a little boy and a little girl?" His heart turned over as her mouth curved in a half smile, for even this small effort seemed to tax her strength. "I'm going to bring them, one at a time, so you can see the miracles for yourself." He winked at her. "Don't go away, I'll be right back."

Sean went along to the bedchamber that had been transformed into a nursery and conferred with Kate Kennedy, who came up with a novel suggestion. "To keep her from fretting herself to death, you could show her same child twice."

Sean frowned. How easy it would be. The illusion would be so much kinder than reality at the moment, yet Sean knew he must never deceive her again, no matter the temptation.

"No, Kate." He turned to Alice, the young wet nurse who was such a G.o.dsend in their predicament. "Is my daughter able to suckle, Alice?"

"Not very well, sir. She hardly has the strength. She takes a couple of sucks, then drifts away in sleep."

"Keep her awake; don't let her sleep until she's been fed properly. Kate, help her keep awake, tickle her feet or something."

Sean found Mr. Burke in the sitting room. "Paddy, you're going to wear out the carpets, walking his nibs about."

Paddy grinned. "Takes me back to when you were born. Many's the time Shamus walked you all night long."

"Give him to me; I'm taking him to his mother."