Never Less Than A Lady | Herophine

Chapter Thirty Seven

As the maid helped the countess lie down, Josephine patted the baby dry witha clean towel. The infant was bloody and rather small, but full of vigor and with an impressive set of lungs.

"My son? My son is healthy?" Daventry croaked.

"Congratulations, Lord Damien." Josephine gave him a cool glance as she laid the infant in the crook of his wife's left arm. "You have a beautiful, healthy daughter." To Alice, she said, "She needs your warmth and to hear your heartbeat, so hold her close." The countess's face was pale as snow, but she was radiant as she looked at her child.

Damien gasped, his gaze riveted on the infant, who was unquestionably female. "A daughter?"

Hero caught his breath, stunned. He'd been convinced by Damien's certainty that this would be a boy. The earl's breeding record had supported that, but as always, God got the last word. Once more, Hero was Damien's heir.

The countess glared at her husband defiantly, her arm tightening around her baby. "I know you wanted a son, but I have always yearned for a daughter. I will name her Anne. If you don't want us, I'll take Anne away to some place where you won't have to see either of us ever again." It was a clear threat.

Face working, Damien reached out a shaking hand and touched the tiny toes on one perfect little foot. Anne squeaked and pulled her foot away. There was awe on the earl's face as he looked at his new child. "A daughter for Tiffins," he murmured. "It never occurred to me that I would have a daughter."

"In the nature of things, girls happen," Josephine said dryly. "You said once that you'd only bred sons, Lord Damien, and perhaps that was the problem. I've known women who have seen all their male babies miscarry or die young, while the females thrived. Some weakness in the male seed, I think. Anne might not be able to inherit your title, but your bloodline will survive."

Damien brushed his wife's hair with gossamer lightness, as if afraid she'd break. "Will Alice be all right? She's lost so much blood."

"The countess will be very weak a while, but she should be fine." Josephine turned to the basin to wash the blood from her hands. After her hands were clean and dry, she began rubbing the countess's belly with gentle firmness. "Hazel, watch what I'm doing so you can do this. Rubbing helps the womb contract. That will reduce the chance of any bleeding. You'll be able to feel the difference."

"Yes, ma'am," the maid said respectfully. "Anything you want me to do."

"You will visit us, won't you?" Lady Alice asked hopefully. "My husband won't try to stop you. Will you, darling?" There was a definite edge to her final words.

Sounding as if he'd rather have all his teeth yanked from his jaw than have to thank Josephine for anything, Damien said reluctantly. "No, I won't. I suppose I must be grateful to you, Lady Josephine."

Aiden pressed close to Hero's side, his eyes huge and interested. Hero was bemused to think that tiny Anne was his aunt.

Reminded of why he and Josephine were here in the first place, Hero said, "Your bloodline will have more than one stream to carry on, Damien. Josephine and I called today to introduce you to your grandson, Aiden Marlowe. Xander's son, born a few months before Xander's death."

Damien hadn't noticed Aiden, but now his gaze dropped to the boy. "You want to foist this boy on me by claiming he's my grandson?" he growled.

His uncle's continual suspicion and anger were damned tiresome. Hero said coolly, "There is no foisting involved. Aiden is my foster son and his home is Roscombe Manor. He'll start school at the Westerfield Academy in a week. He doesn't need you, but Josephine and I felt that you have a right to know your grandson."