Page 95 of The Moonstone Governess
Nor had he ever shed tears during the war, despite his heartache as soldiers, hardly more than boys, fell all around him.
But now?
He would never recover if he lost Brenna.
He did not go immediately to Cain’s study but strode outside in order to calm himself down. He walked to the gazebo overlooking the cove. He’d chatted there with Brenna at last year’s village tea, thinking she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and knowing he was going to marry her if ever he straightened himself out enough to be a proper husband.
Jax and Cain were in Cain’s study by the time Daire composed himself enough to return. The three men shared a bottle of port. “I’ve had my staff prepare a bedchamber for each of you,” Cain said. “You’ll have time to ride home and collect a change of clothes, if you like. This could take the entire night.”
Neither Daire nor Jax dared leave.
“I’m not going to sleep,” Jax grumbled.
“Did you when Henley had your children?” Daire asked.
Cain cast him a wincing smile. “No. In fact, Hen threatened to have me tied down and tossed into our storage room if I did not stop pacing like a caged bear.”
*
As midnight approachedand both ladies had been in labor for over eight hours, Henley suddenly burst into the study. “Jax, come upstairs and meet your daughter. Mother and daughter are doing well.”
“Thank the Lord,” Jax muttered, and tore upstairs.
“And Brenna?” Daire asked.
Henley forced a smile. “She’s taking a little longer. She’ll get there, Daire.”
The night wore on.
Cain remained with him the entire time. Jax joined them once Felicity and his daughter had fallen asleep. They tried to cheer his spirits.
But how could they?
“I need air.” He rose to walk back to the gazebo.
“It’s four o’clock in the morning, Daire,” Jax said. “It’s pitch dark out there.”
“I know the way. I won’t be long. I’ll suffocate if I don’t get out.”
He made his way in the blackness of the night, his ears attuned to the ebb and flow of the tide as it rolled into the cove, of the crash and whoosh of waves as they swamped the beach. “Keep Brenna safe. Please, help her.” He had never prayed in his life, had never believed. But he prayed now for her safety. He bargained now with everything he possessed, even his own soul. “Take me instead.”
He heard nothing but the sound of the waves.
Then he saw the glimmer of moonstones, and his heart lurched. “But it’s high tide.”
He thought of their wedding night and Brenna’s sweet body against his, and her logical brain insisting the moonstones glowed only at low tide. But they didn’t. For her, they glowed at all hours.
He hurried back inside and took the stairs two at a time.
He had to know. Whatever it was, he had to know.
He heard a baby’s wail just as he stepped inside.
“Daire,” Brenna said in a hoarse whisper, “we have a boy.”
He came to her side. “So I hear. He has a lusty set of lungs. How are you, my little dove?”
“Sore, but I’ll recover.”
