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H earty brew shimmered and danced in the firelight as it tumbled into a waiting cup. It was swirled about, admired, sniffed by a nose well accustomed to that sort of work. Experienced hands grasped the cup and the contents were downed without hesitation.

Downed in desperation.

Downed as if the contents were all that saved the imbiber from certain destruction.

“ ’Tis but a babe, my lord,” Nemain said with a grumble. “No need to drink yourself into a stupor over it.”

Berengaria watched as Colin ignored Nemain’s advice, reached for another full cup and gulped it down in much the same manner as he had the first three.

“Those were for the mother-to-be,” Nemain said sternly. “To give her strength.”

“I am trying,” Colin responded tightly, “to remain upright myself!”

Magda reached forward and tapped Nemain softly on the shoulder. “He looks as if he’s about to faint again, Nemain. Don’t be stingy.”

Nemain eyed Colin narrowly, then handed him the final cup. “We’ll need more, Berengaria. And why aren’t you in that next chamber, seeing to the birthing of this babe?”

“Our dear Aliénore sent me to inquire about the state of her beloved husband,” Berengaria said with a smile. “So, my lord, how do you? What message shall I carry to your lady, or would you prefer to carry a message yourself?”

Colin blanched, threw back another cup of brew, and rose. He was unsteady on his feet, but the man wasn’t a soldier of vast renown for nothing. He put his shoulders back and fixed a grim expression to his face.

“I’m ready to go myself.”

“This isn’t a hopeless war, my lord,” Berengaria said gently. “She is fine.”

“She’s been screaming.”

“Screaming? Nay, my lord. Voicing a bit of discomfort, perhaps.”

“My name has figured quite prominently in her cursings, lady,” Colin said, looking at her skeptically. “Are you certain she wants me in truth, or is it for some foul purpose that you take me to her?”

“Berengaria!” came the shout from Aliénore’s chamber.

Berengaria took Colin by the arm and bodily dragged him into the next chamber.

She left him hovering by the door and arrived at the birthing stool in time to deliver his firstborn.

She cleaned the baby, cut its life’s tether to Aliénore, then handed the baby to her.

She helped Aliénore to bed, then looked at Colin.

“Will you come see?”

He swayed, swayed a bit more, and then fell to the floor with a mighty crash.

“He’ll rouse soon enough,” Aliénore assured her. “Come sit by me and look. Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She?” came the weak voice from the floor. “She?”

Berengaria looked to her left to see that Colin, though he was fallen, was recovering with goodly speed. He sat up and peered over the edge of the bed. He looked no less terrified than he had before, but his color was better.

“She?” he squeaked.

“Listen to your papa closely, my love,” Aliénore said, stroking the babe’s cheek, “for you’ll not hear that sound often. Manly knights never squeak, except when they’re overcome by great emotion.”

“Bloody hell,” Colin managed hoarsely. “A gel. A gel and I’ve no idea what to do with her.”

Aliénore looked at Berengaria and gave her a smile full of amusement. “I daresay he’ll learn, don’t you think?”

Berengaria rose. “I daresay he will, love. Now, I’ll leave you to introduce your daughter to her father, then I’ll return and see to arranging you properly.”

She walked to the door, then paused and looked back. Colin had gotten to his knees and was currently leaning over the bed.

“A girl,” he said reverently.

“Are you disappointed?”

“Disappointed?” he echoed. “I should think not! There’s no reason she can’t hold a sword.”

“Colin!” Aliénore gasped.

“But finding a mate for her, now that is what I will be losing sleep over. Nay, ’tis best that we just keep her by us.

No man I know now could possibly be worthy of her.

And since there’s only one of me, I suppose she’ll just have to remain unwed, forever tending my wine and sharpening her skills with me in the lists. ”

“Ah, Colin,” Aliénore laughed, “I should expect nothing less from you.”

He looked at her, wearing an expression of complete bewilderment. “What did I say?” he asked. “I’m only trying to keep her safe. Now, to think of a name. Something with a warriorly tone to it, don’t you think?”

“I was actually thinking of Rose—”

“A fine effort, but not exactly what I’m looking for. What think you of—”

Berengaria closed the door with a smile, paused to listen to the raised voices inside, then shook her head and sought out the chamber for honored guests she shared with her companions.

She paused before the door, saw the black smoke seeping out, and changed her mind.

Perhaps she would retire to the solar for a moment or two before returning to care for Aliénore.

With Magda obviously at the cooking fire, it was likely safer that way.

She sought out a comfortable chair in the solar and sat down with a contented sigh.

She leaned back and let her thoughts briefly wander.

They did, directly to the vision she’d once had of Colin’s bride.

It was proof enough that one could never judge too quickly by the outer aspect, for despite his gruff exterior, Colin of Berkhamshire had a gentle and quite tender heart.

And Aliénore, though gently visaged, had the heart of a true warrior, brave and fearless.

Perfectly matched, they were, and perfectly happy.

And now a new little life to guide and protect.

What a fortunate little lass she was.

And how fortunate her parents were to have her and each other.

A new family, bound by love, with years of happiness to look forward to.

Berengaria smiled, content.