Epilogue

London—September 1811

Dinah Andrews felt her water break, splashing down on the floor of the conservatory, something she had not experienced in over seventeen years. She had been so young then, wed to a duke who grew angrier each time she produced another daughter instead of the expected sons. Her hands went to her belly, protective of the child she carried within her, knowing her second husband, the love of her life, would lavish their child with both attention and love.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smells of the blooms surrounding her, already knowing what lay ahead since she had birthed four daughters.

She and Drake had decided they would try for only one child, due to her age. They had now been wed a little over a year, and she couldn't help but think it had been the happiest year of her life. Not only had both Lyric and Allegra found husbands whom they loved, but Mirella had, as well. Only Effie was left now, and Dinah wondered if her youngest, headstrong daughter would make her come-out next spring and take a husband. Effie had strong opinions. It would take a most unusual man in order for Effie to find happiness. And love.

Dinah left the conservatory, moving through the townhouse, returning to the set of rooms she and Drake shared. They had enjoyed living in James' London residence for most of the past year. Her husband's work at Neptune Shipping had kept them in town a majority of the time, with brief respites at Shadowcrest and Crestridge. Drake had thrived in his new role, managing Neptune Shipping under Sophie's guiding hand. Sophie herself had given birth to George, and as Drake proved most efficient, the Duchess of Seaton was handing over more and more of the business decisions to the former sea captain.

Dinah rang for Mrs. Powell and when the housekeeper arrived, she said, "You need to send for the midwife. It is time."

The older women smiled. "I will do so at once, Mrs. Andrews."

She could have continued being addressed as Your Grace by the staff, but Dinah wanted nothing to do with the title she had never sought, one which reminded her of her first husband. Seaton was dead, but he had gifted her with four lovely daughters. She stroked her belly, wondering if she would have another girl or if she would finally give birth to a boy. Drake had said he would be happy with either, and she knew he meant it.

Ringing for her lady's maid, she had the servant put her in a night rail. She slipped into a dressing gown, as well, the pains starting to come more regularly. Dinah had learned from experience not to lie abed too soon. That movement helped her in the birthing process, and even though she had not delivered a child in many years, she believed this one would come quickly since she had given birth before.

The midwife arrived, agreeing with her client that she should walk about a few minutes longer after hearing how far apart the pains were. As another labor pain struck her, though, Dinah clasped her belly, falling to her knees.

Suddenly, she was lifted in strong arms and carried to the bed.

Drake was here.

"You should be at Neptune Shipping," she chided gently, not wanting him to see the agony that she could no longer hide.

He brushed her hair back. "Mrs. Powell sent for me. I had told her to do so when your time came. I plan to be with you every step of the way, love."

She smiled at him, a smile which turned into a grimace as another pain racked her body.

The midwife said, "We should remove your dressing gown, Mrs. Andrews." She looked pointedly at Drake. "And remove Mr. Andrews, as well."

As her husband lifted her from the bed and untied the belt on her dressing gown, pushing it from her shoulders and handing it to her maid, he said, "I was here when we made this babe together, and I will remain here as we see it come into the world."

The look he gave the midwife brooked no questions, and the woman nodded curtly.

"It is highly unusual for a man to remain in the birthing chamber," she told them, "but if Mrs. Andrews wishes it, so be it."

"I do," she said as pain gripped her again and the urge to push overwhelmed her. She looked to the midwife. "It is time for me to push."

"Very well."

Drake caressed her cheek tenderly and asked, "Where do you want me?"

Dinah thought a moment. "Behind me," not wanting him to witness the babe emerge from her body.

Instead of taking a seat in a chair by the bed or even perching on the bed itself, Drake removed the pillows behind her and climbed into bed with her. His legs went alongside hers, and he leaned her so that her back rested against his chest. His fingers laced through hers as Dinah brought her feet up, parting her knees. With the next pain, she pushed hard, groaning loudly as her hands gripped her husband's.

"Good, Mrs. Andrews," the midwife praised. "The head is crowning. I see a lot of dark hair."

With the next labor pain, she bore down even harder, pushing with all her might.

Drake's cheek rested against her temple as he said, "You are doing it, love. You are bringing life into the world again."

The midwife nodded, saying, "I see the shoulders. The babe is to the waist now. One more hard push, Mrs. Andrews, and your child will be born."

Exhaustion filled her, but determination won out. With the next pain rocking her body, Dinah grunted loudly, bearing down so hard that she felt the babe leave her womb in a quick rush.

Though weary, longing to close her eyes and rest, she watched as the midwife cut the cord and turned the babe upside down, lightly tapping its buttocks.

Immediately, a loud cry erupted from the newborn, causing her to relax even as her husband tensed.

The midwife turned away with the babe, washing it as Drake pressed his lips to her temple.

"You have done it, Dinah. You have given birth to our child." He chuckled. "Our very loud child."

She smiled, weariness filling her, still anxious to hold the infant as she felt the need to push again, expelling the afterbirth.

The midwife returned, the babe now swaddled. The woman placed the bundle into Dinah's arms, saying, "You have a healthy son, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews. Congratulations."

"A boy," she sighed, tears of happiness stinging her eyes as she glanced up at Drake.

He beamed at her and then turned his gaze upon their son. "A boy," he echoed. "A fine, fine boy. With a head full of dark hair."

She looked down at her son. Their son. Love swelled within her.

"We never talked about names," she said. "Do you have one in mind?"

Drake bent and brushed his lips upon the babe's brow. "I think we should name him James. For the man who has meant so much to the both of us. The one who convinced me that we belonged together."

Dinah thought of how, not only had they both held friendship with James dear to them—James had championed them and their marriage. Only one gossip of Polite Society had dared to speak ill of them, and James had personally given the woman the cut direct. She had become a social outcast, and not another soul had crossed the powerful Duke of Seaton. The rest of the ton had quickly fallen into step and welcomed Dinah and Drake with open arms.

"James," she repeated, looking at their babe with love. "Yes, I believe that would be a wonderful way to honor our friend. I have always liked the name myself."

"But we don't want him confused with his namesake. How about within the family, we call him Jamie?"

Dinah smiled as the babe opened his eyes, looking at them in curiosity as he began to coo.

"Jamie. I quite like it. What do you think of your mama and papa, Jamie?" she asked.

Her husband stroked the infant's cheek with one finger and said, "He thinks he is the most fortunate babe in the world because his parents love him and one another."

Drake's palm went to her cheek, cradling it, turning her toward him as he kissed her lightly.

"I love you now in this moment more than I ever have," he said huskily.

"And I love our family and you."

Her husband kissed her again, and Dinah knew a wonderful life lay ahead for the three of them.