Page 95 of He Who Ignites The Flame
I frowned. “Why would I want that?”
She shrugged. “You said it, not me.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but she winced, her hands gripping the edge of the bench.
My heart lurched, and I shot to my feet, hands jolting to hover around her in case she fell.
She waved me off, offering me a pained smile as she let out a controlled breath. “It’s just another contraction.”
“Should I get Damien?” I asked, unsure of what to do. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have taken her out of the house.
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It was just one. They’ve been coming and going more today. It’s all part of the process.”
I eyed her wearily, and eventually, she eased, her fingers loosening from the stone before her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breath of relief. Minutes passed in silence as I allowed her the room to relax, her eyes closed, head resting against the stone as she seemed to gather herself.
“Those look rough,” I said.
“They’re not too bad; I’ve dealt with worse pain,” she said with a smile as she rested her hand on her stomach.
“No need to act tough on my account,” I said.
“Who knew you’d become such a gentleman?” she teased before wincing, lips parting as a gasp slipped from her lips and she grabbed onto the bench again. I offered her my hand, and she grabbed it, squeezing as she breathed through the pain. A few seconds passed before her shoulders sagged with a sigh. “Oh, that was a strong one.”
“Perhaps we should get you back, contact the midwives,” I said, and she nodded faintly with a weak smile as she took the hand I offered.
“That would probably be wise,” she admitted.
“Come on, let’s get you inside,” I said, gently lifting her into my arms. “I’ll send someone for Damien.”
She nodded, and by the time we made it through the garden and into the house, another contraction hit. My heart twisted at the way she held onto me as she tried to breathe through it.
“Isla!” I called out as I carried Lucia down the hall toward her room.
She appeared in the doorway as I eased Lucia onto her bed. “What is it?”
“The contractions are getting closer,” Lucia explained. “Still inconsistent, though.”
“Ah’ll send fer Lord Damien and the midwives,” Isla said, turning and hurrying down the hall, calling out for one of the other servants.
“What can I get for you?” I asked Lucia. “How can I help?”
“Some water would be nice,” she said before she exhaled a slow breath.
I nodded and hurried to retrieve a drink for her. By the time I returned, some of the servants were in the room tending to her, discussing plans to prepare her for labor and the arrival of the babe.
“Thank you,” Lucia said as I offered her the drink. She took it, drinking deeply before I set it on her bedside table.
“They’re on their way, deary,” Isla said as she entered the room, tying her coppery hair into a low bun. “How far apart are they now?”
“Maybe five to ten minutes? They’re still a little inconsistent,” Lucia answered wearily as one of her attendants supported her, her skin already covered in a faint sheenof sweat.
“Lucia?” Damien said, his voice full of concern at my back. I twisted around to find him emerging from the converging shadows along the wall, Zephyr following close behind him.
“Mea sol,” she breathed, a smile of relief curving her lips as he rushed to her.
“I’m here,” he whispered as he took her hand and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Lucia leaned into him before her eyes shut tightly, a moan of pain slipping from her lips as she gripped the sheets on the edge of the bed.
