Page 124 of Rogue of My Heart

“Doubtful,” he said, his heart swelling with affection and with peace.

“I could argue the point with you,” Marie said, stealing a kiss. “And I probably will at some point.”

“You won’t win an argument about who loves who more,” he said, laughing.

“Are you certain of that?” She arched one eyebrow.

“I’m certain that we’ll have the rest of our lives to figure it out,” he answered, then tightened his arms around her and kissed her until they were both breathless.

Thirteen

One Year Later

* * *

Labor was easily the most miserable experience of Marie’s life.

“I can’t go on,” she panted, then grunted as the urge to push overwhelmed her yet again.

“It won’t be long now, my lady,” the midwife said in a voice that was infuriatingly calm. “I can already see the head.”

Marie wanted to tell the woman to hurry things along, but the best she could manage was a soul-shattering growl of pain as she pushed for all she was worth.

“Isn’t there anything you can do to make the process easier?” Christian asked from the corner of the room, where he had been allowed to pace during Marie’s delivery.

Everyone from the doctor—who had gotten himself thrown out of the room an hour before for irritating Marie—to the attending nurse had insisted men had no place at a birth, but Marie had absolutely refused to be parted from her husband.

“Babies come in their own time and in their own way, my lord,” the midwife said in her soothing voice without looking at him.

Marie was too busy having her body split open to pay much mind to the exchange, but she did manage to shout, “Christian, come here this instant!”

Christian launched toward the bed, startling the nurse who stood ready with a receiving blanket beside a basin of water. “Yes, my darling?” he asked when he reached her side.

He made the mistake of swaying close enough to her that Marie was able to grab his arm as her pain reached an alarming crescendo. She squeezed so hard that Christian cried out as well, half crumpling on the bed.

“This is your doing,” Marie ground out, even as most of her effort went into bringing the baby into the world. “You and your naked.”

She wasn’t certain if she’d spoken a coherent thought or not, but Christian seemed to accept his part in the whole thing. “I know, I know,” he gasped, “and I’m sorry. But I won’t promise not to do it again.”

Marie cried out—partly in pain, partly because she could feel the moment had come as the midwife cooed soothingly and reached between her legs, and partly because she wanted to laugh at Christian’s off-color comment but couldn’t.

“Here we go, my lady, here we go,” the midwife called out, an excited look in her eyes.

The moment was horrible, wonderful, unbelievable, and indescribable, but within seconds, Marie felt as though she’d been turned inside out, physically and emotionally, as a tiny cry rent the air.

“Here she is, my lady,” the midwife said in a delighted voice. She nodded for the nurse to come forward with some sort of clamp and scissors.

All of the pain, all of the stress and misery were forgotten entirely the moment the midwife lifted the mottled, bloody, and squalling baby girl to show Marie.

“It’s a baby,” Christian gasped, astonishment and bliss lighting his expression. “You actually had a baby.”

“We did,” Marie corrected him. She reached for the tiny girl as the midwife handed her over, then began the afterbirth clean-up. Marie wanted to laugh and cry and gasp in wonder as she held her daughter for the first time.

“You did all the work,” Christian said, laughing and weeping with her as he sank onto the bed, sliding his arm around Marie to support her.

She needed the support as well. Labor had only lasted seven hours, but she was more exhausted than she’d ever been in her life. She was also more in love than she’d ever been, with both her daughter and Christian. She leaned her head against his chest, closing her eyes for a moment and counting her blessings over how lucky she was.

“She appears to be fine and healthy,” the midwife said as she and the nurse took care of the aftermath. A wry grin lit the woman’s face. “Perhaps a little too healthy, if you’ll forgive my impertinence. No one is going to believe that darling girl is three months early.”