The Earl's Wager for A Lady's Heart Bonus Scene

A year after the wedding found London once again ensconced in winter, the snow falling soft and easy about the paved streets; the doorways once again hung with greenery and the songs of old carols drifting through the streets at dusk.

Grace found herself less and less occupied with the things of her past enjoyment, for though her mind was still alive with thoughts for books and stories, her energies now belonged to the twin babies forming in her rounded stomach.

She was to give birth any day now, the midwife said so. At first, Grace and Winston had only thought their child was above average in size and weight, but when the twins began kicking in tandem against the walls of her stomach, the midwife was able to feel about and confirm the truth.

"You've two bairns," she said wisely. "And they're both of goodly size."

Winston had been thrilled, but worried. He demanded Grace take every precaution, hiring a nanny to care for Victoria and Willie and waiting on Grace himself hand and foot. She found it all a bit ridiculous, and the night of the Christmas Eve party at the orphanage she finally put her foot down.

"Circus tent or not," she said with a laugh, surveying her enormous belly swathed in a red silk gown, "I'm going to this event. You haven't let me out on the street in months, and I know these children have a few more weeks to go. Please, let me see the orphanage and wish them all a Merry Christmas."

Winston, who seemed increasingly susceptible to his wife's desires, gave in at last and the party found them both sitting in the corner watching the affairs with glee.

Victoria, who was strong and healthy as an ox now, cavorted about the room with the other children as though she'd never been ill a day in her life. Her hair was in curls, and her dress the colour of a sunset. She laughed loudly, and stopped every so often to tend to a child or embrace one of her former bedmates.

Willie followed suit, although lately, he seemed content to curl against Grace and lay his head on her stomach more and more.

Halfway through the evening, as the crowd broke into song, he did just that, laying his mop of dark hair on her stomach and looking up at her with woeful eyes.

"Will they ever come?" he asked mournfully. "I miss them so dreadfully."

"Miss them?" Winston asked with a laugh. "You haven't even met them."

"But I have," Willie protested. "I talk to them all the time. Mama, tell him—I speak with them always and since they're not yet here, I feel as though I have a faraway friend who doesn't pay me any mind."

"Well, they shall be coming soon," Grace said, wincing as a peculiar pain found its way into her abdomen. "Go ahead, keep speaking to them. I think it makes them feel at home."

"I don't want them to feel at home," Willie protested, turning to whisper with his lips against his mother's stomach. "Do you hear that, both of you? Come out at once and play with me."

Almost on cue, Grace felt a great tightening in her stomach and a spasm shot up her torso.

She doubled over, grasping her belly and couldn't help crying out. Winston straightened, worry creasing his brow. "Grace, what's the matter?"

"Something—" That's when she felt it, a warm stream of liquid running down her leg. She lifted her skirt ever so slightly and then dropped it again. "My water's broken, Winston. We have to call the midwife."

"I knew this would happen!" He gasped and jumped to his feet.

Grace put her hand out on his arm to calm him. "I will be quite alright, love, but you must keep your head about you. Go find the midwife, and I will take the carriage home."

"Are you safe to ride?"

"Elsie can come with me, and if something goes awry, we will stop at Charlotte's—it's on the way."

Everything leaped into a whirl of activity, and Grace tried to focus all her attention on the task at hand—breathing through the increasingly regular contractions.

When she was settled in the carriage, she felt Victoria scramble up beside her, then Willie, and then Elsie.

"Winston?" she gasped.

"Off for the midwife and then the doctor."

"Don't need..." she gasped, "a doctor."

"Let him decide, my lady." Elsie clucked like a mother hen. "And remember that twins are always more exciting. A doctor is not a bad idea."

Grace didn't have the energy to complain any further. She held on to her side, willing the carriage to fly even faster through the streets.

At some point they stopped, she didn't know how long into the ride, and Charlotte was in the doorway taking Victoria and Willie's hand and pulling them out of the carriage.

"I'll take good care of them, Gracie," she said, putting a hand on her friend's arm. "Just you focus on having those children right away."

Then the carriage door closed and it was just Elsie and Grace speeding toward the Longberry mansion.

Grace kept breathing, her hands wrapped around her stomach, and she prayed that all would go to plan.

***

Winston could hear her screaming upstairs, and the sound tore his heart to shreds.

He didn't know what to think, and he didn't know whom to ask. All the female servants had disappeared into that mysterious birthing room upstairs, and they only appeared at intervals to bring a bucket of water or fresh linens from the closet.

None of them stopped to tell him how it was all going, and all seemed intent on the task at hand. He didn't know if their serious faces were a bad sign or a good one. He paced the room, an unfinished scotch sitting on the counter, the clock stretching the hours into morning.

After a time, the butler appeared in the doorway and looked at him with a sympathetic expression.

"No word yet, sir?"

"None."

Winston paced to the fireplace and back. The butler looked as though he wanted to go—he wasn't, after all, a man of great conversation skills or vulnerability—but in the end, he came further into the room and stood with his hands behind his back.

Grace cried out, far away but still in pain. Winston put a hand to his head. The butler cleared his throat.

"My wife gave birth three times without incident," he said. "I know we are not to speak of such things, and so if you question me on this matter later, I will deny the subject entirely. But still you ought to know that her births were safe and healthy, and she screamed louder than that every time."

"She did?" Winston looked up with hope in his heart. "It sounds awful."

"It is, I suppose, though they never speak of it after. Women are stronger than we think, and your Lady Longberry is the strongest of them all."

Winston didn't know when the butler took his leave after that, but it was a few more hours before the upstairs room fell silent. This felt at first like a relief, but then when no one appeared Winston grew anxious.

At last, he gathered his courage and walked upstairs. Elsie met him in the hall, a bundle of dirty clothes in her hands. Her cheeks were pink, her sleeves rolled up, and her smile wide.

"You've got a healthy boy and a healthy girl," she said joyously.

"And Grace?"

"Your wife did battle, and she won. She's a bit weary around the gills, but she's got energy left in her. Go on in."

Winston didn't need to be asked twice. In a moment he was past Elsie and through the door. The maids had moved Grace into a sitting position, and in her arms, there lay two small bundles.

When the first maid caught sight of Winston, she picked up one of the bundles and put it in his arms.

The baby felt incredibly, unbelievably light and small. Winston looked down at the small, pinched face in wonderment, then at his weary wife.

She was sitting enthroned on pillows, her brilliant hair clinging in tendrils to the sweat on her pale neck, but she was smiling and exultant. He knew that look—the fierce resolve. She had fought hard, just as Elsie said, but her will was not broken.

"You did well," Winston said, coming to kiss her.

She slid over with some difficulty and patted the bed beside her. "Sit. I want to show you your daughter." She nodded at the white bundle in his arms. "That's your son."

He pulled back the fabric and looked with wonderment at the tiny fingers, the impossibly small features, the curve of the skinny legs, and the regular breathing of the lungs so close beneath the fragile skin of the chest.

"It's a miracle, isn't it?" he said softly.

"A painful, beautiful miracle," Grace answered. "I keep watching them for something to happen. I want to protect them more than I've ever wanted anything my whole life." She looked up with a smile. "Will you send for Victoria and Willie?"

"They should already be on their way," he answered. "Charlotte was to bring them over at first light." He looked at the girl over Grace's shoulder. "You did well, my love. Very well."

"Thank you, soldier." She looked up at him with the old wit sharp in her eyes. "That means a lot from the man who cowered downstairs during the ordeal."

He laughed outright, prompting the little boy in his arms to open his eyes weakly. The blue shining through nearly took his breath away. "What shall we name them?" he asked.

"I think Sarah, after your sister."

"A manly name indeed," Winston said with a wink.

Grace rolled her eyes. "You know full well I meant the girl. The boy's name is up to you."

Winston sobered. "The honour to my sister is dear indeed," he said. "I love that you thought of it, and I agree to it wholeheartedly. And as for the boy, I think David is a good name."

"David?" Grace asked, raising an eyebrow. "What an odd choice. I don't know of anyone in your family line who has that name."

"Let's just say it reminds me of one of the happiest days of my life," Winston said softly, remembering the story in the orphanage, and the revelation of Grace's heart that had come shortly afterwards. "And he shall grow into a fine, strong boy."

"Perhaps," Grace said, "but we can be no more sure of that than we can be certain Sarah will grow into a small and fainting woman. People sometimes surprise you."

"Oh, I think we can be fairly certain Sarah will be neither small nor fainting," Winston said with a smile. "After all, look at her mother."

Grace blushed and smiled at her husband, putting her hand out as though to nudge him on the shoulder. Changing her mind, seemingly at the last minute, she pulled him in for a kiss.

"All right, my own one," she said with a smile. "You win, for you have made me the happiest woman in the world."

Winston stared down at her with a feeling of complete peace in his soul. "And that is all I ever wanted."

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