Silver Enchantress

by Patricia Rice

  Chapter 25

  Drake stood in blank amazement and extreme relief, devouring his elusive wife with his eyes. Caught in braids around her head, her copper hair gleamed as if polished, and lips of rose laughed temptingly. But it was the full swell of her rounding belly beneath the simple apron that held his gaze longest.

  When Drake recovered his senses sufficiently to catch her by the waist and take her into the room so he might close the door on their audience, the laughter had disappeared from her eyes. Slowly Eileen backed from his grasp and deeper into the cottage’s interior.

  “If it is just the child you want, you cannot have it,” Eileen informed him.

  “The child?” Bewildered, Drake finally took her meaning, and his anger returned. “And you think you are capable of raising a child yourself? You do not even have the sense to stay where the child will be warm and safe. Did you intend to raise him on roots and berries?”

  “I have told you often enough, I can take care of myself. I do not need much, and I have been offered more than that for some of my sketches. So you need not worry about the child starving,” Eileen responded scathingly. “I am certain Lady Pamela must have produced your heir by now. You do not need what is mine.”

  “Yours?” Drake roared. “You are mine and that child is mine, and I am taking you both home where you belong.”

  Eileen continued to back away. “No, Drake. I told you I am no marchioness. Go back to Lady Pamela and leave me be. This is my home. This is how I was raised. You cannot expect me to act the part that Lady Pamela fills.”

  “Damn Pam to hell and back! Damn this hovel and everything in it! I have not risked my neck to bring you home only to pretend our vows were never made. Whether you like it or not, Lady Sherburne, you are my wife and you belong in my bed, where I am taking you now.”

  Eileen paled as Drake stepped closer, trapping her in a corner against a chair. “You cannot take me anywhere against my will. I am not without friends,” she replied with dignity.

  “This is nonsense, Eileen,” Drake cried in frustration. He could take her nowhere until the carriage arrived, but he would prefer not having to carry her out kicking and screaming. “I want my child born in my house with a physician and a nurse and all the other proprieties to assure his safety and yours. Why would you have him born in a hovel?”

  “Because this is my hovel and this is my child, and no one can take them away from me! Take Lady Pamela to your bed if you must. I am certain she will appreciate your proprieties more than I.”

  Drake rolled his eyes heavenward as if pleading for guidance. Then he grabbed Eileen’s shoulders, pulling her close in hopes of forcing her to see reason. “Lady Pamela is Edmund’s problem, not mine. Did you think I would have taken you with me had I thought there was any possibility Pam carried a child of mine? What do you take me for, Eileen?”

  She stared at him in shock. Growing pale, she grabbed at Drake’s coat.

  “Eileen?” Terrified by her sudden silence and look of distress, Drake caught her in his arms and glanced around for help. The cottage seemed to have no other inhabitants. “Eileen? What is it? Is it the baby? My God, is there no one here to call?”

  As the pain apparently dissipated, Eileen straightened and tried to struggle free, but Drake would have none of it. Now he had his wild creature, he wouldn’t let her escape.

  “Your child will be born here and there is nothing you can say that will stop him.” Eileen gave up the physical struggle but not the argument.

  Drake glanced anxiously out the window. No sign of a carriage, but dark clouds were filling the sky. The chances of returning Eileen to Sherburne before the snow fell were next to nil. He groaned his dismay.

  “Where is your mother? You ought to be in bed. Does this blasted village even lay claim to a midwife? Where in hell is the bed?” Frantically Drake glanced around, hoping to conjure up an army of staff to help in this desperate situation, spying only a doorway that might conceal a bedroom.

  As he caught Eileen’s waist in preparation for carrying her off to bed, Eileen wiggled from his grasp. “I am not ready. It is not time. The others will come when you leave. You need not worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Eileen, I may have to throttle you,” Drake fumed. “That child will be born any minute now, and I’m not going anywhere until it is. So you had best call your women now or it will be born with only me in attendance.”

  Eileen obstinately lowered herself into the chair and crossed her arms. “The child won’t be born for hours, and I’ll not be fussed over.”

  Drake took one look at her defiant expression and strode purposefully to the door. Instead of going out, however, he began to shout, “Lady de Lacy!” to the empty street.

  “Stop that, Drake!” Eileen struggled from the chair to close the door. “I’ll not be made a fool of.”

  Drake slammed the door and glared at her. “You’ve already done a proper job of that, my lady. You didn’t trust me to come for you. You didn’t want to hear my side of the story. And now you will whelp that brat right on the floor with no one in attendance because you’re too damn stubborn to admit you’re wrong.”

  Before Eileen could reply, another pain nearly bent her in two. With a cry of despair Drake swept her from the floor. There had to be a bed somewhere in this damn house.

  As he strode toward the darkened doorway, Eileen fought for her freedom. “Put me down, Drake! It is not time yet!”

  Ignoring her pleas, Drake entered the darkened chamber and nearly stumbled over the carved bedstead. From the gray light through the windows he could discern enough of the bed to decide it might be suitable for his wife and child. He lay Eileen against the pillows.

  She struggled to sit up and fling her legs over the side. “Go back to Sherburne and leave me be, Drake! You’ll find another Lady Pamela soon enough.”

  “I don’t want another Lady Pamela! I have you, and I have that child, and I don’t want any other. What do I have to do to convince you?” Drake planted himself in front of her, forcing her to remain where she was.

  “I want my own home and my own life. I don’t want to be a marchioness. I don’t want to be mistress of Sherburne. I’ll never be the kind of wife you want, Drake, so go away and pretend this never happened.”

  Even as she spoke, another pain struck and tears rimmed her eyes.

  Drake eased her back against the pillows once more, his hands trembling as he unfastened all the buttons and laces that confined her. Where in hell were all the damned women?

  “I’ll give you your own home if that is what you want, Eileen. You can have any home you like. I’ll find a cottage in the village near Sherburne if you want. I can’t take away the title, but you don’t have to use it. Eileen, for God’s sake, will you lie still and let me get this gown off you?”

  Eileen giggled at his nervousness. “I thought you were the expert at undressing women.”

  “I’ve never had a wife or a babe,” he protested. “Give me a few years of practice.”

  She helped him remove the bodice and breathed easier for its absence. “Do you mean what you said? Will you really let me have my own home? And keep the child with me?”

  Drake would have promised her the moon to keep her in bed while he sought assistance. “You can ask for Whitehall and I will find some way to give it to you. Just let me find your mother.”

  Eileen grabbed his hand. “Not yet. Tell me what happened. Have the charges against you been dropped?”

  “I don’t know, love. This argument may be for naught if the charges have not been dismissed. I only know that they opened my cell long enough for me to flee. If you will hurry and get this business of bearing our brat over, we can go home and find out.”

  When Drake made as if to rise, Eileen held him back. Her gaze anxiously searched his face. “Drake, are you certain you want to do this? I can stay here and none will be the wiser. You may come and go as you wish. I will not keep you from the child.”

&nb
sp; Drake stared at her in exasperation. “Accept it, Eileen. You are my wife and I do not intend to give you up. I will do whatever is necessary to make you happy, but what is mine, I keep.” His voice softened as dismay filled her eyes. “Will being my wife be such a terrible thing, princess?”

  It would if he did not love her. It would if he were ashamed of her. It would be even worse if he found someone like Lady Pamela who would be so much more suitable. But how could she tell him this? He was the one with words, not she.

  “I never wanted this.” Tears coursed down her cheeks as another contraction claimed her, and she could not explain. She had only wanted his love and had married him in hopes of winning it. When he was without home or title or family, there had been a chance. Now there was none. All she would have was mansions and money, without hope.

  He held her hand until the pain passed, then sadly, he rose from the bed. “I never meant for you to be unhappy. I will find your mother, my love. You need a woman with you at a time like this.”

  This time Eileen did not protest. She could not bear to let him see her tears. The pain in her heart was greater than the one in her womb.

  Lady de Lacy appeared almost as soon as Drake stepped outside the door, followed shortly by Dulcie and Molly. The carriage arrived not long after that and Drake cursed as he recognized the only passenger: Diane. Well, she would have to resign herself to a long stay. He needed the carriage and men for other things.

  Diane had no objections to being carried into the cottage. Drake sent one footman and his horse back to Sherburne with messages, and the carriage and driver on to London for a physician. He’d be damned if his child would be born into this world without the best. Eileen was small and the child was coming too soon. He paced nervously up and down the street once his duty was done.

  The women wouldn’t allow him to return to Eileen, and he finally sought shelter from the sleet in a nearby tavern. The occupants had never met a marquess before, but word had already spread that this was Elli’s husband, and curiosity and sympathy made them friendly. As they toasted the father-to-be, the results of Drake’s messages slowly trickled in.

  Michael appeared first. After being barred from the cottage with Diane’s approval, he found his way to Drake’s side. James and Theodore arrived next with word that Auguste and Pierre had already departed for Ireland. After a few drinks to warm their frozen fingers, Theodore began to strum his mandolin and James entertained himself with a woeful ballad that others soon joined.

  By the time Sir John and Lady Summerville arrived, the small tavern rocked with lusty song that could be heard into the street. After escorting Eileen’s aunt inside Dulcie’s cottage to be with her sister and niece, Sir John joined the others in the tavern.

  Surprisingly, he discovered the usually laughing young lord staring morosely into his mug of ale while all around him regaled his ears with riotous sound. The other men made room for Sir John as he shoved his way to the seat next to Drake, but above the uproar he could not make himself heard. Drake raised his mug in greeting, then tilted his head back and downed it all. From the look on the tavern-keeper’s face, this was not the first to disappear in such a manner. He hurried over with another.

  Deeming it wisest if the young lord were still able to stand when his child entered the world, Sir John gestured toward the door. Drake followed without protest, mug still in hand. Unfortunately, half the crowd in the tavern also chose to tag along.

  Outside, with the noise level at a minimum, it was possible to speak. Drake glanced up to the lowering sky. Already mid-afternoon. The sleet had turned to snow.

  “The physician has arrived?” The marquess spoke with only a slight slur to his words.

  “He’s with Eileen now,” Sir John assured him. “The first one always takes a long time.”

  Worriedly Drake lurched toward the cottage. “I want to see her.”

  Sir John yelled a warning. “You cannot go in there now! There is barely room for her mother and the midwife.”

  Drake ignored the warning, intent on making Eileen understand. She had to understand. His thoughts went no further than that.

  At Sir John’s yell Michael loped to the front of the crowd, blocking Drake’s path. He caught his friend’s shoulder to restrain him, but, remembering other grievances, Drake took this interference without patience. He swung his fist hard and fast at Michael’s jaw.

  Michael staggered backward, but with his own complaints to air, he found his footing and came up swinging.

  Within minutes a circle had formed around the combatants and the remainder of the tavern crowd poured out into the street as the two gentlemen doffed their coats and rolled up the cuffs of their sleeves. Knowing something of the prowess of both men at fisticuffs, the perpetually penniless Theodore and James accepted wagers.

  Eileen’s piercing screams caught Drake’s ears just before he swung, and he faltered, giving Michael time to land the final blow before he, too, heard the sound. Drake sprawled in the dust, much to the dismay of his backers. Shaking his head and rubbing his jaw, he attempted to rise. Michael grabbed his arm and helped him stagger to his feet.

  “She’ll kill me when she sees that face of yours,” Michael muttered as they stumbled through the crowd and back to the cottage, leaving Teddy and James to dispute the fight’s outcome.

  “That’s all right, my mother-in-law will break a bottle over my head when she sees us. You don’t happen to have one on you, do you?” Holding his jaw, Drake caught his hand on the door jamb as he made the transfer from daylight to dim interior.

  Eileen’s scream died abruptly, and Drake paled, staggering in the direction of the bedchamber until Sir John halted his progress.

  “My God, man, get out of my way!” Drake caught the baronet’s shoulders and attempted to physically lift him from his path.

  The tiny wail of a newborn stole through the abrupt silence.

  Chapter 26

  At the wails of an outraged infant, Drake straightened his shoulders. “I want to see Eileen.” He spoke stiffly, waiting for Sir John to remove himself from his path.

  The baronet stepped aside. The chords of Theodore’s guitar rose behind Drake as he pushed into the bedchamber. Eileen lifted her tired eyes to him. Her eyebrows rose at the sight of his swelling jaw and blackened eye, but she smiled proudly as she lifted the bundle in her arms.

  “A girl, my lord. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “She has your hair,” Drake whispered in wonderment, studying the cherubic features of his firstborn. “Have you thought of a name yet?” There had been no time for such thoughts before, but he suddenly had the desire to see that this tiny human being be given the best of everything, including a name.

  Eileen touched the curled finger of her sleeping daughter. “Would you mind if we call her Isabel?”

  “Isabel?” Drake tasted the name on his tongue, and then, remembering the daughter the Summervilles had lost, he nodded. “Isabel it is.” He glanced at Lady de Lacy bustling about the far end of the room. “My grandmother’s name was Elizabeth, too. Would you mind?”

  Lady de Lacy looked pleased. “Isabel Elizabeth is a lovely name. Emma will like it.”

  Suddenly going pale, Eileen held Isabel Elizabeth up to be taken by her father. “Show off your new daughter to Sir John, please,” she gasped.

  Awkwardly struggling with folds of blankets and floppy limbs, Drake sent her an anxious glance, but his wife smiled serenely as he tucked his daughter in the curve of his arm. He wanted to talk to her, to be assured all was well, but the roomful of people prevented intimacy. He pressed a kiss against her brow. “Thank you, my love.”

  A cheer rocked the walls as Drake entered the outer room proudly bearing his offspring. James demanded the name so he might dedicate the poem he had scribbled, and the Summervilles smiled tearfully.

  “Lady Isabel Elizabeth Neville, sir, madam.” He held the sleeping infant so that Lady Summerville might take her, and then froze as another wail echoed through th
e closed chamber door.

  “My God!” Swinging toward the source of the ear-piercing sound, Drake nearly dropped Isabel Elizabeth. Lady Summerville rescued the infant while Drake’s bruised lips uttered the shocked word “Twins!”

  In the corner, Michael and Diane laughed at his stunned expression. Ever arrogant and self-assured, his lordship had been brought to public confusion by a slip of a female and a babe. His usual elegance had deteriorated to rags. His handsome face had swollen into a purple knot on one side and his golden hair escaped its neat queue, but his attention focused solely on the wooden door and the rising wail behind it. The moment was too rare to waste. As the laughter grew, the guitar’s tune grew bolder. Ignoring his audience, Drake rushed to Eileen’s side.

  This time Eileen’s eyes were closed when he entered. His pulse pounded so loudly in terror that he could hear it. The women worked at cleaning the second squalling infant. Drake took his wife’s motionless hand and shot a glance to the physician. “My wife?”

  “She is weak but will recover,” the physician answered grumpily. Familiar with Drake’s family, he added, “Twins, to a marquess, in a hovel. Damn, but why can’t you do anything properly?” The sound of laughter and music from outside the room emphasized his protest. “You’d think you were gypsies!”

  Drake took no heed of his disgruntlement. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and squeezed Eileen’s hand. He was rewarded with the flicker of long lashes.

  “Eileen?” he pleaded.

  She smiled as her eyes opened to meet his. “Twins, as promised,” she whispered.

  Shakily Drake pressed her hand to his mouth, searing it with his kiss, willing her to understand. Before he could speak, Molly laid the infant between them.