A Touch of Passion (31 page)

He trudged back to the library and stood before the fire, looking into the flames. Life and death seemed so arbitrary. There was a battle raging upstairs in the bathing chamber, and they were yet to know who would win.

What would have happened if he hadn’t been here? Would his actions change the outcome? They both could still die, or he might have made the difference between life and death.

His gut churned as he stood helplessly in the study, knowing he’d done all he could and that it was now up to God to decide their fates. He felt as he had on the battlefield, first having to hold Robert as he died, knowing he could do nothing, and again when Christian was burned.

Death was part of life, for everyone dies. With blinding clarity he saw it wasn’t the manner in which people died that defined them, but how they chose to live their life. Now he could clearly see he was not running from death but hiding from life.

It occurred to him that Portia had been sent to teach him how to live. With her joy for life and her ability to trust in those around her and see the perfectness of the world for those brave enough to grab it, he needed her to be by his side every day to remind him how good life was and how many possibilities it held.

Grayson sank down into a chair in Christian’s study, warmed by the fact he no longer feared loss. In this world or the next, he was positive he would be reunited with those he loved, and he wanted to be able to face them, knowing he’d not wasted the joy of living. He would place his trust in God, and live for those who could not.

The waiting was not easy. The muffled screams began to get louder and more frequent, and he rose and moved to the sideboard, pulling the top off one of the decanters. He sniffed it. Whiskey—good. Brandy would not be strong enough to get any of them through this night.

He prayed that for Serena’s sake it wouldn’t be too long a night. He took the chair by the window, looked out into the moonlit night, and thought about what he’d just done. His father, his mother, Lucinda, and Robert would all be proud. He realized that at some point in the future, if he won Portia’s love back, she would go through this pain and suffering to bear him a child. The thought of the risks to mother and child sent shudders through his body, but he knew he would be by her side all the way.

Maybe it would be a blessing if Christian didn’t make it back until it was all over. Lord knew
he
was anxious; what would Christian be feeling?

Only moments later he heard the front door crash open and the pounding of Christian’s boots hitting the stairs. He wasn’t surprised when the door to the library opened and in walked Sebastian, his face pale, and Maitland, stoic as usual.

He rose and moved to the sideboard. “Drink, gentlemen?” and he held out the decanter of whiskey.

“Is Beatrice with her?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes, Portia and Beatrice have not left her side.”

Sebastian sank into a chair, drank the tot of whiskey Grayson had poured him, and stuck out his glass for another. “God, look,” he said, and he showed his hand. “I’m shaking, and Beatrice’s time is not for another few months. Christian’s a mess. How do we stand it?”

Maitland’s answer was surprisingly astute for a man who showed little emotion. “If they can decide that the joy of life is worth the pain, then men should support and worship them for it. Weaker sex, my arse. Here’s to women and their bravery.” He lifted his glass and downed its contents.

Not surprisingly, Christian didn’t reappear until the next morning, choosing to stay with his wife. Beatrice and Portia took turns to come down and give the nervous men news. Everything was progressing as it should, they were informed, but Serena’s screams didn’t make the waiting any easier.

The men downstairs played faro and billiards, and finally went for a ride as soon as dawn broke, needing to escape from the tension pervading the house. They took Lily with them. She of all of them remained upbeat. The sun shone, the day was warm, and as Grayson breathed deep, he couldn’t help but think life was grand. God would never let anything bad happen on a day like today.

The men returned to the house two hours later. As they entered, quiet greeted them. Portia stood at the top of the stairs, a radiant smile upon her beautiful face. “It’s a boy. Mother and baby are well, but I’m not sure about Christian,” she said, laughing.

Lily squealed with delight and raced up the stairs. “May I see her?”

Portia merely nodded, still looking at Grayson.

Grayson simply smiled at her, all else forgotten, as the other two men shouted in relief. God, she was wonderful, and his heart overflowed with love. He walked up the stairs to meet her. She had black circles under her eyes. “You must be exhausted,” he said.

She took his hand and put it on her bosom. “Feel my heart—it’s racing with joy. He’s beautiful. If anyone should be exhausted, it’s Serena. She was marvelous.”

Just then Christian emerged behind her, carrying his son in his arms. He looked so proud yet terrified as he carried the precious bundle. They all gathered around this little miracle. Beatrice swore he looked like Christian, but Grayson thought he had Serena’s eyes. Hell, who could tell at this age? As long as he was healthy, nobody cared. “He certainly has a fine pair of lungs on him,” Maitland said admiringly.

“We’ve named him Robert.” At everyone’s surprised gasp, Christian added wryly, “Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to name him after my or Serena’s father.” He turned to Portia. “Robert was a good and fine man. We all miss him.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“Would you like to hold him?” Christian handed the crying baby to Portia. She smiled down at him, and baby Robert stopped crying instantly, clearly enraptured with her.

“She has the touch,” Beatrice laughed. “I suspect Serena and I will be calling on you constantly—that is, until you get busy having children of your own. Oh, whoops!” Beatrice clapped a hand over her mouth and looked from Grayson to Portia.

Portia’s smile died and she handed the baby back to Christian. “That’s all right. I do hope to have children one day.” She looked at Grayson and held his gaze as if challenging him to deny it.

“You’ll make a marvelous mother.” His answer seemed to pacify her.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up and change.” With that she slipped away from him again.

Beatrice came and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for what you did for Serena and Robert. If you love Portia, truly love her, please don’t give up. She loves you and is the least likely of anyone to bear a grudge. After what you did, I bet she’s already forgiven you.”

“Will someone tell me what he did?” Christian asked.

Grayson, lost in thought, barely heard Beatrice explain his role in the birth of Christian’s son. Instead he made his way to the kitchen, an idea brewing in his mind.

As Portia soaked in the bath, she couldn’t get the image of Grayson’s large hands palpating Serena’s swollen belly out of her mind. He’d been magnificent. She knew from the way his hands had been shaking that he’d been nervous, and it was a terrible position for him to find himself in. What if it hadn’t worked and Serena and the baby had died? He would have blamed himself for the rest of his life. But he hadn’t hesitated to do what was needed. She had never been so proud of him.

Witnessing new life entering this world was exhilarating; that must be why her heart was racing and why she wanted to see Grayson. She’d forgiven him everything because of the way he’d helped Serena.

Robert was a beautiful, healthy boy, even though he was a few weeks early. She ran a hand over her stomach. While the idea of going through childbirth didn’t thrill her, given what she’d witnessed, the joy she’d seen on Serena’s exhausted face proved it was all worth it. She couldn’t wait to have a child of her own. Picturing Grayson’s son in her arms, she knew she wanted that more than anything in this world.

Grayson’s words repeated in her head:
I’ve always loved who you are.
She could almost believe him. She would talk to him soon. It was long overdue.

The maid assigned to help her dress had just left, and she was about to go and see if she could help with Robert when a note was slipped under her door.

She recognized the handwriting, and the paper even held a faint scent of him. Her fingers shook as she opened the missive.

My dearest Lady Portia,

Would you do me the very great honor of attending a light supper at Lord Markham’s gazebo around five o’clock?

I hope you have it in your heart to let me beg your forgiveness. There is only so much groveling a man can do on an empty stomach.

Seriously, I implore you, please come.

The idiot who loves you,
Grayson Devlin, Viscount
Blackwood

She smiled through welling tears. As she brushed them away she wished she weren’t so tired. It had been an emotional night.

Should she go? Well, she was a bit peckish. She hadn’t eaten since last night.

A gurgle of laughter escaped her. She was being blatantly wooed by a man she had never imagined would woo her, ever. As Beatrice had said, he seemed very earnest in his pursuit of her. It couldn’t hurt to listen to the man. Besides, she’d never thought she’d see the day Grayson Devlin groveled to anyone, let alone her.

She glanced at the clock on the dresser. She had just enough time to pay a quick visit to the new mother before meeting the man she was sure loved her.

What she needed to learn was whether she trusted him enough to give her life into his care.

Grayson anxiously paced the length of Christian’s gazebo. It was new; he’d built the large structure for Serena—well, for him and Serena. A place they both could go to get some privacy with a houseful of people and, of course, Lily. It was their place, but Christian had given his blessing for Grayson to use it, given that it was for a good purpose, and because of what Grayson had done for his wife. Grayson knew that he could ask anything of Christian at the moment and he’d likely agree.

He glanced at the picnic spread on the pretty pink tablecloth. All of Portia’s favorite puddings were there, and for something to drink, what else but her cider? The bottle lay chilling in a bucket of the river’s iciest water. In the middle of the table was a huge bouquet of her favorite flowers, blood-red roses, the color so dark they were almost black.

Nerves saw him check his timepiece for the hundredth time. He prayed she’d come. He knew whatever he said had to come from his heart. Anything that was rehearsed or didn’t sound like him would make it look as if he weren’t contrite. He needed to prove that he was serious, in love with her, and could not imagine a life without her.

He knew before he turned that she was there, his body aware of her closeness. He turned. His knees almost buckled, she looked so beautiful. Her fiery hair seemed to glow in the late afternoon sun, and her eyes were hazel pools that seemed to see into his very soul. He wanted her to see that he meant every word he would tell her.

He wanted to beat himself up all over again. He’d been blind for so long—blind to his own cowardice. He had made this beautiful, compassionate woman believe she wasn’t good enough for him. The depth of his stupidity astounded him. But now he would make it his life’s mission to prove to her that she was too good for him.

He looked into her sparkling eyes and with immense relief saw love. And then he swallowed because he also saw mistrust. He’d given her reason not to trust him, and he wanted to earn her trust back.

He got down on one knee. “You came. Thank you.”

“Your note promised supper.” She took a look at the table, and her mouth fell open. “So much food!”

“I didn’t know what you’d want.”

“You have all my favorites here.” Then she spied the cider in the bucket, and her eyes filled with tears. She looked down at him, kneeling at her feet.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, he said, “I have been a coward. I can’t imagine what you must think of me.”

“We all make mistakes, Grayson. It’s how we own up to them and rise above them that counts.”

“I was so scared of losing you that I lost you. Irony at its best. Can you ever bring yourself to risk your heart on me again? I love you, so much.”

Portia smiled sadly, her gaze flicking to the blood-red roses.

“You saw what happened to Serena today. I want children. Many children. What will you do when I give birth? Will you run and hide? Desert me? Or, God forbid, if one of the children falls ill, will you turn from us, take your love, and put it back behind a fortress of fear?”

He gazed up at her, knowing his next words would either win her back or lose her forever. “You’re the bravest woman I know. You’re willing to risk your reputation, the disappointment of your family, and your business for what you believe in. You’d rather face scorn than marry without love. I’ve never admired you more. So far I’ve risked nothing. But on my knees here before you, I’m willing to risk everything for love too. I’m willing to walk away, to set you free, to agree to your plan, because I love you. If you truly don’t think I understand your desires, your heart, who you are inside, then you’d be right not to marry me. I know it is not independence you seek, but a partnership. I’d be so proud to have you by my side enjoying the bouquets life hands us as well as surviving the arrows it fires at us. I know continuing with your business is not about showing that you are just as good as a man, although you are; it’s about doing something to help others. You do it for the orphans. I know your lust for travel is because you love to learn about other people. And most of all, I know you don’t wish to waste one day on God’s earth because life can be short.” He paused. “I know you, and it would humble me if you’d like to learn what’s inside me. You make me want to be a better man, for I suspect even I do not really know who that man is.”

“I know you. I’ve known you since I was sixteen. You’re honorable, kind, and so full of love that it’s bursting to get out. You think you don’t show people what you feel, but you do. When you give your word you never let fear stand in the way. You’d do anything for your friends and my family, following my brother into battle when you knew it could mean your line dies out, and coming to rescue me when you knew the consequences—marriage when you did not wish it. There has never been any doubt in my heart that I love you. I just need your word that you won’t try to change me, that I’m good enough for you, and that you won’t fall to pieces when life hurls one of its arrows.”