The First Snowdrop

"Doctor Selby," A

Both the doctor and Mrs. Rush jumped into action, but the latter did not neglect to glare meaningfully at Merrick and order him from the room, almost as if she were the employer and he the servant. A

Viscount Merrick left his wife's bedchamber ten minutes later, when it appeared likely to him that she would survive her ordeal and that the child was safely launched into life. They had not spoken. She had taken the red and wrinkled little bundle of humanity that was their daughter and put it to her breast, and she had gazed up at him, her face still flushed, her eyes bright and anxious. Was she still so afraid of him? Did she think that he still meant her harm?

He had gazed back at her unsmilingly and finally lowered his eyes to the child. His daughter. Their daughter. The product of lust on the one hand and duty on the other? No, he would not believe so. Whenever the child had been conceived, she was a product of love on his part. His love for her mother had been growing steadily through those two weeks of the spring, even if he had not admitted it to himself until the end. Although the child was far from beautiful in her newly born state, Merrick felt a rush of love for her. His daughter, whom A

When Merrick had returned his gaze to his wife's face, she had been lying with her eyes closed. He had turned and quietly left the room.

Chapter 15

A

Only once in all the visits did A

She expected him to leave within a few days and was surprised when he made no mention of doing so. When she was finally on her feet again, the reason became apparent. The garden that spread from beneath her window was blanketed with several inches of snow. It looked thick enough to make it likely that the roads were near impassable. But she discovered another reason the same day, when she was sitting opposite her husband at the long dining-room table. It was the first time they had sat thus since their wedding night, and she wondered if the same thoughts and memories were plaguing his mind. Apparently not.

"We will have to postpone Catherine's christening for at least a month," Merrick said abruptly, breaking a long silence. "It will be impossible for anyone to travel for at least another few weeks."

"You mean the vicar?" A

"I mean Grandmamma and Grandpapa," he replied. "And I know that Freddie and Ruby wish to come, and I believe some of the others too. I have not heard from your brother yet. I do not know what his intentions will be."

"Bruce?" A

"Of course," Merrick said. "The birth of a daughter is an important event in our lives, is it not?"

"And Grandmamma is coming? Here?"

Merrick's face relaxed into a smile. "I believe she will," he said. "A reply came to my a

"You said I might do as I wished here," A

"Not one," he said with conviction. "You have changed Redlands from a house to a home, A

"I do hope you like it," A

"Do you like it here?" Merrick asked, real curiosity in his voice.

"It is home," she replied. "I ca

The silence that ensued was not an uncomfortable one. Each was pondering what the other had said. Merrick was amazed to find his wife apparently placid, seemingly contented with her lot. Seeing the house as it was now, completely transformed from the rather shabby gloom that he had always associated with the place, he was not completely surprised that she found it a pleasant home, but her ma

A

Her cheeks burned for a moment and she lowered her head over her plate as she remembered that Alexander had been with her through much of her labor and through the whole of her delivery. It had seemed so natural at the time to turn and see him there, to cling to him during those agonizing minutes while she gave birth. But why had he done it? It was unheard of for a husband even to enter his wife's room during the process of childbirth. But to stay there and witness all! What must the servants think?