Jane’s words were calm, but Duncan could hear the concern in her voice.
“Duncan, I don’t… I don’t know if I can do this – alone, without a midwife or a physician. I—”
“Jane.” He caught her hands in his. “You will be just fine. You are the best person your sister could have with her right now. What do you want me to do?” he asked, and she gripped his hands, squeezing them tight.
“I’ve sent Abigail for the physician, although this being Christmas and all, I have no idea if he will come, nor how quickly,” she said. “Mary is upstairs, and I must get back to her as soon as possible. Will you boil water and find towels in the closet?”
Duncan nodded, watching as Jane hurried up the stairs, throwing an apron over her dress as she did so. He sighed as his heart hammered in his chest. He had never had anything to do with the birth of a baby, unless one counted the animals in Galbury’s stables and sties. He supposed that could be of some help, although he had faith that Jane had all well in hand.
He did as Jane bid, hoping that he was preparing everything as she needed it. He hurried up the stairs, pausing in front of the door at Mary’s long moans within. He swallowed hard, deciding right then that no matter what anyone said, women were much stronger creatures than men would ever be.
“Jane?” he called, wishing he could leave everything at the door, but the water he had boiled over the stove was likely too heavy. “Should I come in?”
“Yes, please,” she said, before resuming the low murmuring to her sister as he stepped through the door. Fortunately, Mary was currently well covered, and Duncan followed Jane’s pointed finger to set down the items beside her.
Jane sent him out once more, to the nursery down the hall to find more blankets. He nodded, relieved for another task, but when he got to the nursery, a flood of emotion punched him in the gut, and he had to pause for a moment to look around. A cradle sat in the corner, with a blanket hanging over the edge. A change table and a little rocker were on the opposite side of the room, while a few little dolls and toys had been placed in a basket near the corner. Mary had already apparently collected some clothes for the child, which were laid out in a basket.
He took a long inhale as he attempted to catch hold of his breath. It wasn’t that he was suddenly wishing he was the man who was fathering Mary’s baby. Instead, it was the thought of a room like this at Galbury, with Jane as the woman who would be sitting in the chair rocking a baby in her arms. He could picture her now, looking up at him lovingly, with that same expression that Mary and Billy wore on their faces when they looked at one another.
He would have assumed that such a thought would only frighten him, but instead, for the first time in his life, it warmed him right through. He met it with anticipation, and he knew now what he must do.
Running from London — and from Jane — would accomplish nothing. Instead, he had to stay, and fight for her love, the love he didn’t think he could live without any longer. He could only pray that she felt the same.
He lifted the blankets and raced back down the hall, finding that Mary’s moaning was louder than ever until it became a scream. Perhaps he didn’t want Jane to ever go through this, he reconsidered. He would be content for the two of them to live out their days with only each other for company and love. It would be more than enough for a man like him, who had never known the companionship of a sibling.
“Jane?” he called as he raced through the doorway, although he was tempted to turn around and run back the other way at the sight in front of him. Jane still had a blanket over Mary’s knees, but her hands were beneath it, as she was slowly crooning to her sister, whose hair was wet with perspiration as her hands fisted the sheets on either side of her.
“Jane!” Mary yelled out now, “Get this baby out of me, and get it out right now!”
As Duncan moved to the side of the room, Jane lifted the blanket to better see, and in a gentle voice that was, at the same time, loud enough for Mary to hear her, she encouraged, “That’s it, Mary, you’ve got this. Ready? One, two, three, push!”
Mary complied with a scream and Duncan could only stand there with a hand over his mouth and wide eyes. He should not be here, he suddenly realized. Not at all. He began to back out of the room slowly but just as he did, something slammed into his back and propelled him forward once more.
“Mary!”
Thank God. Billy was here. He rushed over to Mary’s side, taking her hand as suddenly Jane gave out a cry of exaltation, and Duncan let out a breath of relief as he realized the baby must have been delivered.
“Duncan?” Jane called out to him, “Will you please pass me more towels?”
He did as she bid, and soon Jane had passed the baby over to Billy.
“A boy,” she said with a smile, and Billy nodded, seemingly unable to say anything, likely due to the tears that were coursing down his cheeks.
Suddenly Mary gave another shout of pain, and Jane looked to her in alarm that scared Duncan in turn.
“Mary?”
“It hurts again, Jane,” she moaned. “Oh, so much.”
Mary let out a scream, and when Jane looked at Duncan helplessly, he realized that this was likely beyond her scope of knowledge. They needed the physician, and they needed him now.
“It’s all right, Mary,” Jane said, although this time she was far from convincing. She reached up and began touching Mary’s stomach, when suddenly she gave out a soft cry of exclaim.
“Oh, Mary!” she said, turning to Duncan with a wide grin on her face. “You’re experiencing more contractions — there’s another baby coming!”
Mary and Billy just stared at her in astonishment for a moment before Jane cried out “Push!” once more, and soon Mary was doing just that. Duncan forced himself into action, preparing more towels and blankets, and soon enough there was another baby — and this time, he found the baby — a girl — within his arms. He stiffly cradled the tiny little child, terrified that he was going to drop her, as Jane helped Mary deliver the afterbirth and began to clean away the soiled linen.
Duncan stared down at the crying little ball, his heart near to bursting with affection for this baby that no one had even known existed until seconds ago, as well as pride for Mary and for Jane, and a love for Jane beyond anything he had ever experienced before.
He looked up, meeting Mary and Billy’s own expressions of love before he crossed the room and laid the infant in Mary’s arms.
“Here,” he said gruffly, nearly fumbling the exchange, but she just laughed lightly as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Thank you, Duncan,” she said, before looking across the room at Jane, who was walking toward her with a wet cloth to wash her brow. “And thank you, Jane. For everything. I could never, ever, have done this without you.”
The sisters touched their foreheads to one another’s as they cried a few tears of joy, and Jane had the opportunity to hold the two little babies.
Finally, she stepped back, and nodded her head out of the room. Duncan followed her out as she shut the door gently behind her.
“We’ll give the new family a moment together,” she said as they descended the stairs, before she collapsed into an overstuffed sofa before the fire, which was now the only light in the drawing room besides the candles on the tree, which were still lit, for the most part, although wax was beginning to drip from them and onto the evergreen branches. She looked up at Duncan with some hesitancy.