Page 107 of His Tempting Duchess

TEN MONTHS LATER

Anon’s Adventures Continue

With the next Season rapidly approaching, this author has chosen to take some time to review the events of the madcap previous Season, not least of all the exploits of the infamous Belmont girls.

Miss Emily Belmont, now the Duchess of Clapton, was revealed to be the famous and mysterious painter ‘Anon,’ and subsequently thrilled the public and the Prince Regent with five beautiful paintings depicting key moments in his Royal Highness’s life.

Anon has been quiet of late. Not surprising, considering that she is currently heavy with child—due any day, according to our sources—and growing into her new position as duchess and unofficial leader of London’s Art Society. However, this author—and I’m sure the dear readers feel the same—hopes fervently that Anon will continue to thrill us with new paintings and new ways of looking at our rather spectacular, little world.

After all, if a woman can produce the greatest paintings in England at this time, it begs the question—what else could a woman do?

“There, there, darling, it’s over now,” Daphne soothed, dabbing sweat from Emily’s brow. “You’ve done so marvelously well. Childbirth is awful, isn’t it?”

Emily leaned back against the pillows, breathing heavily. On the other side of the room, Octavia was talking to one of the midwives—all terribly expensive and terribly good at their jobs, hired by Cassian—while Anna folded linens in the corner.

The birth had gone well, it seemed. Emily knew her family well enough to know that they would be flapping and panicking, running here and there if there was any danger.

“I think we’re rather good at having babies, in our family,” Daphne continued, smoothing back Emily’s damp, sweaty hair from her forehead. “Mine went rather well, too.”

Emily smiled up at her twin. “I can hardly believe that we’ve got a child each, you and I, with only a few months between them. How odd.”

“I don’t think it’s odd. Twins do everything together, do they not?” Daphne grinned, winking.

Emily gingerly propped herself up further. The bed sheets had been changed, replaced by fresh, clean ones, and pillows had been fluffed and placed behind her shoulders. She craned her neck to where the midwives gathered around a shallow bowl.

“My… My baby? Is he well?”

Octavia lifted her head, her eyes shining. “He’s beautiful, darling. We’ll bring him to you right away. He’s a quiet little thing, just looking up at us with big, curious eyes. You’ll love him.”

Somebody knocked on the door.

“Octavia? Daphne? Anna?” Cassian’s muffled voice came. “I’ve been waiting out here for hours. Will nobody tell me what is going on? Is my wife all right?”

“The duchess did very well. You can come in shortly,” one of the midwives called back.

She handed a tiny, swaddled bundle to Octavia, who brought it carefully over to where Emily sat.

Emily found herself staring down at her newborn baby, her little boy, a little dazedly, feeling like it was all a dream.

I’m a mother,she realized, bewildered.This is my baby.

He was tiny, smaller than she had expected, with a purplish, wrinkled face and barely-there tufts of dark hair on his soft, little head. As Octavia had told her, he did not cry much, but only stared up at her with large, curious eyes.

Her chest tightened, and she felt quite suddenly as though she could not breathe.

“Shall I let him in?” Octavia asked quietly. “Your husband, that is.”

Emily licked her dry lips. “Yes. Yes, please, Mama.”

Octavia leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She moved silently to the door, gesturing for Daphne, Anna, and the midwives to follow her.

Cassian burst in, white-faced with worry. He blanched when he saw the bloodied linens in the corner and the bowl of gory water.

“Emily!” he gasped. “The blood…”

Emily giggled. “Don’t you remember my painting of the Prince Regent’s birth? Childbirth is a bloody business. Now, are you going to come and see your baby or not?”

Cassian stood very still in the center of the room. Behind him, the last midwife slipped silently out of the room, smiling wryly, and closed the door behind her.

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