Ice Cold Duke (Frigid Dukes #2)

Epilogue

“ I can’t stand this waiting!” Lucien said, slamming his hand down on the closest table and making several candles wobble dangerously. “I can’t stand it! How did you do it, Henry? I don’t think I can take it a moment longer!”

“Well, I drank heavily,” Henry said, giving him an amused smile from where he sat on the sofa, calmly sipping a scotch. “It was the only way I could handle the worry.”

“I don’t want to drink,” Lucien said, shaking his head firmly as he resumed the pacing that he had been at for the last two hours. “I want a clear head. And if Emery can’t take anything to help ease her through this, then neither will I.”

“Believe me, the doctors have her on something,” Henry said, giving him a patronizing look. “Do you really think they let women go through childbirth without laudanum?”

Lucien tried to laugh but found it too difficult. Instead, he forced himself to stop pacing and sat down across from his brother. It had been just over a year since he and Emery had decided to live properly as man and wife, and what a year it had been. Lucien had never known that happiness could be so complete. Loving his wife and getting to spend day and night with her was beyond his wildest dreams. Nor did it hurt that his relationship with Henry had improved tenfold, to the point where Henry had actually asked him to be the godfather of his own daughter, born just a few months earlier.

“I can’t believe you’re already a father,” Lucien said, shaking his head as he looked at his little brother. “You! The man who once abandoned one woman at the altar and then almost compromised another! How did you end up the most responsible father and husband I know?”

“I learned from the best,” Henry said, raising his glass and smiling at Lucien. “Anyway, it’s not hard when you are married to a woman who makes you want to be the best version of yourself every single day.”

“That is true,” Lucien agreed. “Before I was wed, I was so sure that loving my wife would mean that I was less responsible toward those who rely on me, but ever since Emery and I decided to give this a real go, I have found it even easier to do my duty by them. She makes every difficult moment feel worth it. And her love makes me feel strong enough to be a pillar of strength for everyone else in my life.”

“Well, you don’t need to be a pillar for me,” Henry said. “At the end of the day, you’re still my patronizing older brother.”

Lucien rolled his eyes, but he knew his brother was only jesting. Their relationship had improved so much over the past year that he had even come to enjoy these gentle ways he and his brother teased one another.

At that moment, there was a cry from upstairs, and Lucien froze in his chair. Was that Emery ? He thought, his heart pounding with fear and excitement. Is she in pain ?

The labor had started two hours previously, and Lucien had barely been able to think straight since. He was terrified for his wife, of course, but also trying to stay calm and positive. Many women did this, and he was sure she would do very well. Still, it was impossible not to be a little worried. This was their first child, and he hated to think of her in pain and scared. At least she had Georgina with her, and he knew she would take good care of her.

“She’ll be alright,” he heard his brother say, and he looked up to see Henry watching him closely. “She is strong.”

“But she’s in pain,” he said, his voice hoarse even to his own ears.

“It’s a painful process,” Henry acknowledged. “Believe me, I know. But she will be alright.”

There was no way his brother could know this, but Lucien appreciated it nonetheless.

A few more moments passed, during which Lucien was tempted to get up and start pacing again, but he forced himself to remain seated. It wouldn’t do to panic, or to make Henry sick of his worrying. His brother being here was the only thing that was getting him through it. He’d written to Henry the moment they’d realized the baby was coming, and his brother had been by his side within minutes.

Love really does make us stronger. My brother would never have been so reliable in the past, but now, he has become the kind of person I can always rely on in a crisis.

And then, just as he was lost in thought about how much Henry had changed, Lucien heard it: the unmistakable sound of a baby crying.

“My child is born!” he shouted, and he leapt to his feet. “Henry! Did you hear it? He’s crying!”

“What makes you so certain he’s a boy?” Henry asked, standing up and laughing even as his smile broke into a huge smile. “But yes, I heard it! Congratulations, brother, you’re a father! I am so happy for you.”

He was crying, Lucien realized. Tears were running down his face as he embraced his brother.

“I need to go see her at once,” he said, breaking away from Henry. “I need to make sure she’s okay.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Flinging open the door to the parlor, he ran across the hall, then took the stairs two at a time until he reached the upper corridor. Then he turned left and ran along it. When he reached the duchess’s bedroom, he flung the door open.

Emery was lying on her bed, his face pale but radiant, and she was holding a small bundle in her arms, at which she was smiling with a look of such pure love that Lucien immediately felt the tears once more rise inside of him. At the sound of the door opening, she turned toward him, and her smile grew even wider.

“We have a son, Lucien,” she whispered, holding out a hand to him. “Do you want to meet him?”

Lucien couldn’t speak. Words failed him. Around him, he was dimly aware of the doctor and midwife, who were packing away sheets and talking quietly with one another. On the far side of the bed, Georgina stood, her face also pale, but a wide smile on her face.

“She did very well,” Georgina said. “She was very brave.”

“Of course she was,” Lucien said, finding his voice as he reached his wife and took her hand. He looked deep into her eyes for a moment, and then he looked down at the baby in her arms.

Words once again left him. The child swaddled in the blankets was so beautiful, so peaceful, and so perfect that he couldn’t believe such an angelic being could exist.

“That’s our son?” he whispered, his words choking as he tried to get them out.

“That’s our son,” his wife whispered.

Slowly, Lucien dropped to his knees, so that he was kneeling by his wife’s bed, and reached out a tentative hand to where his son was sleeping. Very gently, he touched a finger to his perfect little cheek, then he looked up at Emery.

“He’s perfect,” he whispered.

“I know.” Emery was crying, he saw, but they were tears of joy. “We have our family, Lucien, at last.”

“Why don’t we give you two a moment alone?” Georgina asked, and Lucien nodded. She herded the doctor and midwife out of the room, then left as well. Once Lucien heard the click of the door that told him they were alone, he put his head down on Emery’s shoulder and let the tears flow.

“I have never been this happy,” he whispered. “Never.” He looked up at her and she shook her head, as if completely lost for words. “I can’t believe I was worried that loving you would make me not want to care for my child,” he said wonderingly. “It seems so foolish to me now. Just one look at him, and I know that I would never stop caring for him even if someone tried to force me; I would do anything to support and love him; anything to be close to him for as long as possible.”

“I don’t know how your parents spent all that time away from you,” Emery said, shaking her head. “Because I feel the same way as you when I look at him: like I never want to spend any time apart from him.”

“And we won’t,” Lucien assured her. “Or at least, as little time apart from him as we can.”

“We might want to reassess that once we have multiple,” she said with a small laugh. “Perhaps then they will be so wild we will be sick of them.”

“I doubt it,” he said, stroking her cheek with one hand while he kept the other on top of his son’s blanket. “It was rather fun having a house full of kids when I was growing up--well, before I had to become the parent of them. But I think it will be fun for us to have a whole bunch of kids running around the place.”

“A whole bunch of kids,” she said happily, sleepily, as she rested her head against his. “Our perfect little family.”

“Yes,” he agreed, his hand moving up and down gently with his son’s breath. “Our perfect little family.”

The End?