Though it was in her mind to protest such cosseting as silly and wholly unnecessary, Cassie leaned back against the plumpness of her pillow, telling herself she would rest for just a few minutes. Her body gauged its needs far better, however. Though she'd have sworn it nigh impossible, soon her eyelids began to droop. She dozed.

The blue-gray haze of twilight seeped within the room when she woke again. Stung by the sense that she was being watched, her eyes snapped open.

Gabriel stood on the threshold. Apparently he'd just come in from riding. Her heart gave an odd little catch. She'd forgotten how devastatingly handsome he was! His cravat was impeccably wound around his throat, spotless as always. He wore knee-high boots and tight breeches that shamelessly displayed his muscular thighs like a second skin.

Seeing that she was awake, he closed the door and strode toward her. Cassie braced her hands on the mattress and pushed herself up to a sitting position, feeling acutely clumsy and awkward, and keenly at a disadvantage -- definitely not a desirable state when dealing with her husband! She pushed at the tousled length of her hair, wishing there had been time to run a comb through it.

He did not stand or take the chair at her bedside, as she expected. Instead he sat on the bed, so close she felt the steely hardness of his thigh against the softness of her own, even through the thickness of the quilt.

Anxiety gnawed at her. The memory of how she'd wept in his arms last night soared high in her mind. Did he despise her for her weakness? Was he disgusted for her lack of control? Her hands knotted atop the counterpane. She knew not what to say. She knew not what to do.

He caught at her hand. Strong, warm fingers curled around her own. She quivered slightly at his touch. That, too, she had not expected.

"Better today, Yank?"

She swallowed; her nod was jerky. The cast of his mouth was unsmiling, yet not so very grim. How much better prepared she was for his rancor his kindness made her come all undone!

Gabriel's gaze searched her features. She looked very young and vulnerable, her hair tumbling artlessly over her shoulders and down her back. But she was so thin! He could feel the fragility of her bones within his grasp. Her skin was like parchment, so pale and almost transparent. Despite her thickened waist, she seemed so frail she would break in half.

"Thank God I found you." His voice was low and intense. "I shudder to think what might have happened had I not."

Cassie stiffened.

His grip on her fingers tightened, not hurting her, but not relenting either. "No," he commanded softly when she tried to free herself, "do not draw away."

She said nothing. Her eyes, wide and anxious, grazed his.

"I meant what I said last night," he said quietly. "I deeply regret the pain I have caused you." He paused, and his voice grew softer still. "It's my hope we can put the past behind us and start anew."

She trembled. This was a side of Gabriel she had yet to see revealed to her. Humble. Contrite. And she could have sworn tenderness lingered in the eyes that dwelled upon her. Tenderness and caring.

No ... no. She dared not believe it. She did not believe it.

"I cannot think why you should want to." Her tone was stiff. She could neither hide her bitterness nor deny it. Even now, she could still feel the sting of his anger when they had last parted.

"I bear your name but we have nothing else in common."

A glint of anger flashed in eyes. "I disagree, Cassie. We have this in common." In one swift movement he shoved aside the covers. Deliberately he laid both hands on the hard mound of her belly, splaying his fingers possessively wide. "You will soon bear my child. That changes everything."

"That changes nothing!" She tried to push his hands aside but she should have known it was useless. When he was determined, there was no stopping him. And so in the end, she glared her indignant outrage.

"You made your feelings very clear, my lord earl, very dear indeed. You said you did not want a child, an heir. But in truth, you did not want a child of me." A hot ache constricted her throat. Lord, but it hurt to say it aloud! "It's just as I once told you, Gabriel. We are no different than your father and your mother!"

His jaw hardened. "You're wrong, Cassie. You are my wife. I want this child. I want you."

"Oh, stop!" she cried. "If there can be nothing else between us, then let there be truth, at least. I am nothing but the club you wield to hurt your father. I can think of only one reason you have decided you want this babe - it's only because you see him as another weapon to use against your father!"

A dull red flush crept beneath Gabriel's cheekbones. "I am trying to rectify matters as best I am able."

"What! Do you tell me now that it's guilt which prompts your concern? Oh, but I forget you will someday be the duke of Farleigh. You must think of your duty, your obligations. And a wife and heir are among them, are they not?"

He snatched his hands from her belly. "I hardly think it's wrong for a man to want to take care of his wife and child."

Something twisted within her. If only it were so simple! She was suddenly overwhelmed, uncertain of her feelings, but most of all, so uncertain of his.

"You talk of what you want. But what of what I want? Were you thinking of me when you brought me back here?"

"That was my only thought!" He stood, towering over her, both irritated and frustrated. "My God, Cassie, have you looked in the mirror? You look like a wraith!"

She caught her breath -- coming from him, such insult was unbearable. All at once she felt as if her world were splintering apart, but she would not let him glimpse her pain. And it was so much easier to seek refuge in anger.

"Oh, but I - I wish you had never found me. And I won't stay here, do you hear? I won't!"

"You would rather be back where I found you?"

"Yes ... yes! I hate you ... do you hear? I hate you!"

The muscles in Gabriel's face seemed to freeze. "I refuse to let you go back to the life you we leading," he stated through clenched teeth. " you will stay here, Cassie, if I have to lock you in your room! For now, you are clearly overwrought and I see no point in continuing this conversation. I will return when you are feeling more rational."

He spun around and strode across the floor.

Cassie shoved aside the blankets and swung her feet to the floor. "Oh, but it's just like you to walk away! But I won't be pushed aside again. Do you hear? I won't!"

He strode into the hall. His gait never faltered.

"Damn you, Gabriel ... Gabriel!"

His name was a scream at the last, but mingled within was a note of desperation that sent ice running through his veins. He bolted back into her chamber. She stood at the side of the bed, one thin hand around the poster at the end of the bed, the other splayed upon her belly. Below her waist, her nightgown was soaked.

She raised huge, tear-bright eyes to his. "The water has broken," she gasped. "Oh, God, the babe is coming . .."

He bent. His arms came around her with almost painstaking gentleness. Very carefully he lifted her and laid her back down upon the bed. Looking up him, Cassie spied on his face the one thing she had not expected to see ... Fear.

It dawned on her then ... She began to sob. "Oh, it can't be now ... it's too soon. It's too soon!"

He tried to straighten. She clutched at his hands. "Don't leave me. Gabriel, please don't leave me!"

Her piteous cry tore at him. "It's all right, sweet." He squeezed her fingers, then bent to kiss, her quivering lips. "I must send Thomas for the physician. But I'll be back within minutes, love, I promise."

Love. It was as if a giant pair of hands squeezed her heart. Gabriel didn't love her -- he would never lover her. Yet his touch was so tender, his words so sweet. She could almost have believed he cared, at least just a little ...

Gloria soon rushed inside. "My lady!" she cried. "The earl said the babe comes!"

Cassie struggled for a calm she was far from feeling. Even while she longed for her body to be rid of its burden, she was terrified of the ordeal ahead. She tried to smile. "I'm sure it will be hours yet. First births are always longer, I believe."

With Gloria's assistance, her sodden gown was exchanged for a fresh one. She had just leaned back against the pillows when she experienced a sudden tautening of her middle. She gasped and let out her breath slowly. It was then that Gabriel reappeared. He displayed not the slightest hesitation whatsoever, but drew up a chair next to the head of the bed, bold as you please, and took his wife's hands.

It was some time before the physician arrived. Dr. Hampton was a stout, pot-bellied old man with a kindly demeanor. Cassie had begun to pant softly at each gathering of her womb, for each such occurrence was longer and stronger in intensity. Gabriel, whose temper was simmering over the physician's delay, took swift and vehement exception when he was politely but firmly advised to vacate his chair and wait downstairs.

"I will not be banished from this room. I was present when this child was conceived. I see no reason why I should not be present when he is born."

Dr. Hampton rolled his eyes and shook his shaggy head. Most expectant fathers proved themselves a veritable nuisance and he fully expected the same of this one. Yet as the hours wore on, it was clear the earl was the exception. His presence seemed to ease his wife's fears as well.

As her labor progressed, Cassie tried to stifle her cries. As one especially strong contraction gripped her belly, a low moan escaped.

"I'm sorry," she whispered when she was able to catch her breath. "I'm such a coward, I know."

Gabriel's heart contracted. Her eyes were two glassy pools of endless pain. With his fingers he brushed the damp strands from her brow. "A coward?" He chided her gently. "I think not, Yank. You're a woman like no other -- brave and strong -- the strongest woman I know."

Tenderly he wiped the beads of sweat from her brow, but his face was ashen as he watched over his wife and whispered encouragement. Had she spent these last months coddled and well-fed, he'd not have been quite so worried. But she was so thin, so weak, and it was as if he could see her struggle draining away her strength. And she possessed so little in reserve to begin with ...

Another spasm knotted her womb, harder and longer than the rest. A tremendous pressure began to build, there between her thighs. Though she tried to mask her suffering, a cry of anguish tore from her lips.

Her nails dug into Gabriel's palm, slicing his skin. When it was over, her head fell back upon the pillow, her beautiful hair matted and tangled. With a gasp she went limp -- so limp that for an instant sheer panic leaped in his breast.

Deep down he was shaken to his very soul. He hated himself for his helplessness, yet there was nothing he could do to help her. Icy tingles of fear ran along his spine. He alternately cursed and prayed. Christ! How much more of this could she stand?

But with the next contraction the physician's voice rapped out sharply. "There, I can see the crown! When the urge comes, you must push and not fight it ... yes, yes! That's the way ... I have his head ... once more and then you may rest a bit..."

A thin, bleating cry filled the air. Gabriel did not see the tiny, wriggling body in the physician's hands. His every sense, his entire being, was focused on the slight figure that lay prone in the bed. He bent and kissed her full on the lips. "It's done, sweet. I knew you could do it, I knew it."

Gabriel rose to his feet. He was only half-aware as Dr. Hampton passed the infant to Gloria, then turned to deliver the afterbirth. He was still standing there numbly when he felt a tug on his sleeve. Gloria stood before him, her round face beaming. Shyly she placed a small bundle into his arms.

Slowly he pushed away the flannel covering, revealing the tiny new creature. He beheld a miniature little face with little dark brows screwed up in a frown. He swallowed, and saw pink, healthy skin, naked, flailing limbs . . . He stared in mingled awe and disbelief. A tremor of emotion rushed through him, weakening his knees, even as humble pride swelled his chest. He wanted to shout, to fall to his knees in prayer and thanksgiving.

Instead he whispered, "We have a son, Cassie. We have a son."

Cassie's eyes fluttered open. She turned her head, her vision clouded by a dull gray film. Hovering on the fringes of unconsciousness, she battled to keep her eyes open. She was so tired, but she so desperately wanted just a glimpse of her baby.

Gabriel glanced up just as she tried to raise herself on an elbow, shaking with the effort. Tears glazed her eyes as she collapsed weakly, tears that reached out and caught hold of his heart. He was there in an instant, easing his precious bundle down beside her and parting the blanket with one big hand so she could see.

"Is he ... all right?" Gabriel had to strain to hear, so feeble was her voice.

"I see ten fingers, ten toes ... There is certainly no surfeit of flesh -- or hair either!-- but he looks to be a fine little lad."

The merest smile grazed her lips. Her fears extinguished, her strength at last depleted, she closed her eyes and slept.

When Cassie woke again, afternoon sunshine trickled through the windows. She stirred, wincing a little as she turned to her side. Gloria scurried in just then, a tray in her hands.

"Ah, you're awake and just in time! Are you hungry, milady?"

"Do you know, I I'm starving." Cassie was startled to find that she was indeed ravenous. She ate every bite of the steaming lamb stew and fragrant, yeasty bread. Afterwards, Gloria brought a warm basin of water with which she was able to wash. Once her nightgown had been changed, her hair brushed and braided, she felt distinctly more presentable.

She cleared her throat as Gloria carried her toilet articles back to the dressing table. "Is my husband home?"

"I believe he's in the study." The maid gave a hearty chuckle. "Oh, but you should have seen him last night, milady. He'll be a proud, strutting papa to be sure -- why, it was all the doctor could do to pry the little one away from him so he could examine him proper."

So Gabriel had been well pleased with his son ... a little of her anxious dread departed. Perhaps it was silly of her, but somewhere deep inside she'd been half-afraid he might reject him. She glanced longingly toward the corner, where a cradle had been placed. Peeping out from the end of the blankets was the top of a tiny dark head.

Just then, there was the faintest movement from within the heap of flannel. A woeful little cry emanated forth. Gloria laughed when she spied the leap of joy in her mistress's eyes. Cassie leaned up on an elbow and looked on eagerly as the maid plucked the infant from his nest and changed his napkin. She had nearly finished when a tall form appeared in the doorway.

It was Gabriel, freshly bathed and shaven from the look of him. Cassie's pulse leaped and skittered. His hair gleamed dark and damp and she could smell the faint scent of the cologne he used. Gloria had straightened, lifting the fretful infant to her shoulder. Gabriel wordlessly beckoned with a finger, and the maid passed the child to him.

Miraculously, the babe quieted the instant he was snug in his father's arms. The maid bobbed a curtsy and quietly retreated. Cassie did not notice, for her attention was utterly commanded by the pair which even now carne near.

His lips quirked as he addressed the babe. "I think your mother feels it's time the two of you met properly, my little lord." An unmistakable tenderness lurked in those silvery eyes as he bent to lower their son into her waiting arms.

Cassie scarcely felt the brush of his hands as he passed the bundle to her. Gabriel was forgotten -everything was forgotten as she felt the slight weight of her baby nestled in the curve of her elbow for the very first time. A rush of delight poured through her, sweet and pure.

Her babe regarded her with his father's usual severity, tiny little brows drawn over a nubbin nose. His eyes were a deep, murky blue. A fine dark fuzz covered his head. But even Cassie, with her limited knowledge of infants, knew he was smaller than most newborns.

A tremor went through her. She cradled his head in her palm. "He's so tiny," she whispered. "Oh, Gabriel, what if --"

Gabriel laid the back of his knuckles against her flushed cheek. "The physician said he appears to be in exceedingly fine health despite his early arrival in the world," he said gently.

Cassie squeezed her eyes shut, for a moment too choked up to speak. She was lucky, she realized, shaken to her very soul. If anything had happened to him, she'd have felt guilty for the rest of her days.

After a moment, she poked curiously at the faded white gown he wore.

Gabriel had perched himself on the side of the bed. "I'm afraid we were rather ill-equipped for an infant in the house quite so soon," he said with a crooked smile. "We borrowed several items from the cook's daughter until Father and Mrs. McGee get back from London. They left very early this morning to see to his needs."

A vague memory surfaced, of Edmund standing beside the bed, a smile creasing his face. Edmund ... smiling? Surely it was her imagination!

Her quizzical gaze had traveled to the cradle in the corner, fashioned of dark, polished mahogany.

"The cradle, too, is an old one, I'm afraid -- mine and Stuart's. My father sent Davis to the attic to retrieve it." Gabriel paused. "But we can certainly purchase a new one if you'd like."

His father again. Cassie resisted the urge to glance at him sharply. Usually when he spoke of Edmund there was a decided edge in his tone. Yet curiously, such was not the case now. Could it be that in the time she'd been gone, the two had mended their differences?

The notion progressed no further, for the baby decided he'd been patient long enough. He was impatient for his dinner, and it appeared he was determined both his parents should know it.

Cassie started at his sudden loud squall. Gabriel sighed and reluctantly reached for his son. "We've engaged a wet nurse from the village," he murmured. "I'll bring him back as soon as he's done, I promise --"

But Cassie was not about to relinquish her precious bundle. "A wet nurse!" she cried. "There is no need for one! I can feed him myself!"

Gabriel hesitated. "The physician said he must be nursed every two hours until he begins to gain some flesh," he said slowly. "And ladies do not usually nurse their own --"

"I fail to see what difference that makes," she said, her chin tipped high. "We both know I am no lady."

Gabriel's lips tightened. "I have no objection to your nursing him, Cassie. I am concerned over your health and I merely thought you might find such a demand taxing." His arrogance returned in full measure. "But I do not care for the implication you are less than a lady -- less than what you are. You are the countess of Wakefield and the mother of my son, and as such, I will hear no slander against you, even when it comes from your own lips."

Cassie ducked her head. The babe was wailing in earnest now. She was suddenly ashamed of her pettiness. Gabriel showed no signs of leaving to allow her privacy to feed the baby, and after making such an issue over it she realized she had no choice but to see the deed done.

Gabriel's unceasing regard made her nervous. Her fingers tugged at the drawstring at her neckline. The material gave way, sliding down her arm and exposing the round, rosy-tipped fullness of her breast. Feeling acutely clumsy and awkward, she turned her son's body ever so slightly. Quite by accident he latched onto her nipple and began to suck.

The quiet which followed was somehow more strident than the babe's cries. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Please don't be angry with me." Her voice was low and choked.

He touched her then, stroking the curve of her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He leaned close, so close she could feel the warmth of body and breath, and for a heart stopping second she thought he might kiss her. She wanted him to, she realized. She wanted it with a yearning that made her feel all hot and shivery inside.