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Emily longed to be with her friend, but she hated to leave him alone like this.

“Do you have anyone you could send for?” she asked delicately. “So you’re not by yourself? Childbirth can be long…” She winced. She didn’t want to remind him of the likely many hours to come when he’d be forced to bear witness to Diana’s pain.

“I’ll be fine,” he said dismissively. This time, Emily stifled her eye roll. That, at least, was the man she was accustomed to.

“Very well,” she said. “If you change your mind, however?—”

She cut herself off. She’d been about to recommend, of all the things in the world, that he call forBenedict. This was obviously ridiculous, given that he likely wouldn’t even come, given their enormous row and would only provide, what, irritable scowls? Not to mention that if Benedictdidchoose to speak, his stance on emotional attachment in marriage might cause Andrew, today of all days, to haul off and beat Benedict senseless.

Which wasn’t something she wanted to actuallyhappen,even if it was slightly satisfying toimagine,given that he’d been such an utter louse this morning.

“If you change your mind,” she amended, “come and fetch me for a bit. I’ll sit with you. I know you love Diana,” she added when he opened his mouth, obviously intending to argue, “but she loves you, too, and wouldn’t want you to be in distress.”

He closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes, as if accusing her of trapping him—which, of course, she had.

“Fine,” he said. She knew he wouldn’t come knocking, but there wasn’t much else she could do about it. If she knew how to knock hardheaded men out of their stubborn idiocy, she’d be the most popular woman alive and would help with far more than just this day’s events.

Besides, she was nearly desperate to see Diana. She wasn’t going to waste any more time convincing a duke he might need—horror of horrors—the comfort of friendship. Not when she wanted to offer the comfort of friendship to his duchess, posthaste.

“Good,” she said, then rushed up the stairs, flying for the Duchess’ chambers.

An invitation to enter quickly followed her knock at the door. When Emily poked her head into the room, she was pleased to find Diana looking sweaty and uncomfortable but otherwise hale, smiling a bit tiredly at her from where she sat propped against innumerable pillows. Frances sat at her side, holding one of her hands, looking determined but overall calm.

The only truly placid person in the room was a middle-aged midwife, who sat in a corner chair, dressed in a sensible cap and dress, humming quietly to herself while she sipped a cup of tea.

“Good morning,” she greeted pleasantly as Emily entered.

“Good morning,” Emily replied, manners making the reciprocity automatic. She turned to where her friends were sitting together on the bed. “Diana, darling, how are you?”

“Oh,” Diana said, her voice a little strained even as her typical biting wit made itself known. “Grand, thanks for asking. I’m going to do this every day from now on. Or, if I’m too busy, perhaps I shall get a horse to stomp on my stomach. It would feel about the same, I gather.”

Frances clucked sympathetically and smoothed Diana’s blonde braid.

“You are doing quite grand, actually,” the midwife offered in a broad country accent. “Coming along nicely, particularly for a first-time mother. You should be right pleased with yourself.”

Diana shot the woman a quick smile before offering Emily a grimace. “You donotwant to know how she knows I’m ‘coming along nicely,’ I assure you. There is no modesty in childbirth, I’m quickly learning.” She tipped her head at the midwife. “Or manners, apparently. Emily, this is Mrs. Gilchrist. She’s apparently delivered—what was it, Mrs. Gilchrist? Seventy-two babies?”

“Seventy-four,” the woman said, beaming proudly. “Yours’ll be seventy-five, Your Grace. And I never lost one of ‘em and don’t plan to break that streak now.”

Emily had to restrain herself from asking if any of the mothers had been lost. It would do neither her nor Diana any good to know.

“Brilliant,” Diana agreed. “And this is my friend Miss Emily—oh wait, no! Lady Emily Hoskins! Emily, you’ve married! And I missed it!”

Her face crumpled, and a few tears leaked out. Emily worried this meant Diana was in the grip of pain again, but when no cries followed the tears, she realized that it was, instead, the curious, mercurial grip that had held Diana’s emotions throughout her pregnancy that inspired this weeping.

“I did,” Emily said, moving to sit on the side of Diana’s bed across from Frances. “And if you even think about apologizing, I shall be very cross with you indeed. And I should so hate to be cross with you on this marvelous day.”

“It might be a marvelous tomorrow,” Diana warned, sounding as if she was reminding herself, too. “Apparently first children like to take their dear, sweet time coming into the world.”

Emily refused to let her face give any indication that she knew all too well that a long birth meant greater danger for the mother. She channeled that energy, instead, on praying that today was, in fact, a day of joy and joy alone.

In the end, she was right on some counts and wrong on others.

For one, they did not travel into the next day though the sun had long since dipped from the sky by the time Diana’s ordeal ended. For another, though it was a day of joy, it was also a day of long, arduous work before that.

The intensity rose gradually as morning slipped into afternoon. Diana’s pains gradually became closer and closer together, increasing in duration with each passing hour. Poor Diana, in turn, grew more and more exhausted, the sweat slicking her brow as she was wracked, again and again, by her labor pains. Her ability to converse between waves disappeared, replaced by pleas for Emily or Frances to talk to her, to offer her anything to distract from the seemingly unending ordeal. The two friends nattered on about anything that would divert Diana withoutcausing her any sort of distress—which meant Emily stayed far afield of the state of her new marriage.

When Emily allowed, after several hours, that Andrew really was not going to give in and seek support, she took it upon herself to leave every so often and give him updates, even if they were no more helpful than the midwife’s unconcerned assertions that all was going as it should.