"Left it a bit late to tell us 'twas time," he growled as he mounted the stairs to her rooms.
Gasping slightly from the pain of another contraction, she said, "I thought I had hours yet."
"So did your mother and, an I had not taken the stairs two at a time with her in my arms, you could well have been born upon the very table we were seated at tonight."
As soon as he had lain Storm down upon her bed, Elaine tried to get him to leave, saying, "There is naught for you to do, Roden. 'Tis woman's work from here on.
Lord Eldon looked scornfully at the young girls bustling around. "Bah! I have brought more babes into the world with these two hands than they have. Begone, the lot of you. I want none here but Lady Elaine, Hilda and myself." He smiled with grim amusement as the maids fled the room.
Though it was hard to speak with Hilda vigorously removing her clothes and her contractions gaining in strength, Storm said, "Someday they will realize that you are all snarl and no bite, Papa."
"If they discover it, I will send them packing," he said as he sat on the bed beside her.
When her next contraction came she was glad of her father's large hand holding hers, and clung to its strength. For a moment she wished he was Tavis, but she forced that thought away. It was no time for sadness or weakening longings. Bringing her child safely into the world would require all her strength and concentration. She could not waste it upon a man who was not there nor wanted to be.
Seeking to help her keep alert and, with luck, distracted from the pain, Eldon began to tell her tales of his time in France. A number of the tales were not the sort to tell a gently bred lady, but even Hilda refrained from protesting when she saw how well they kept Storm from being caught up in her own pain. Eldon knew that it was more than her pain he had to keep his daughter's thoughts from, that one Tavis MacLagan could not be allowed to haunt her. It was not easy, for he was on the minds of them all.
"Bearing a child lacks a certain dignity," Storm drawled as Hilda and Elaine peered between her legs yet again.
Roden laughed. "Most definitely. It will not be long now, Storm. Follow the pain, sweeting. Do not fight against it, for that only makes it harder to bear." He gently bathed her face with a cool, damp cloth.
" 'Tis torture upon my back," she ground out. "Must I lie so? Can it not be done another way?"
"Well, a horse stands, but you could kill the babe when he slid out." Lord Roden grinned when Storm gave a weak laugh. "Mayhaps if you got up upon your knees. 'Twould ease your back."
Hilda and Elaine protested but were ignored. It was awkward, but Storm was soon upon her knees, her father sitting before her to give her both support and something to cling to. Elaine complained that it was not easy to see what was happening, but she admitted that they could manage well enough. Storm was far too pleased to have the pressure off her back to really care if she inconvenienced anyone.
"Papa, an anything should go wrong ..." she said weakly as the pains began to blend together.
"Do not speak so, child," Roden scolded softly, hiding his own very real concern, for she was so tiny and the labor was taking so long. " 'Tis bad luck, I am certain."
"Nay, I must say it. 'Twill ease my mind.
Ye must take the child to Tavis. He may be a rogue inclined to toss up near every skirt he spies, but he will be a very good father. E'en for a girl. Swear it?"
"Aye, sweeting, though there is no need. 'Tis merely that you grow weary." The sound of the wind pounding against the walls came to his ears, and he smiled faintly. " 'Twill be as it was with your mother. It was storming thus when you came into the world. Hilda and I were there to hear your first cry. 'Tis fitting we will do the same for your babe. A grandchild. I begin to feel my years."
"Never that, Papa. Ye will e'er be young. Ye will no doubt be spry and sour for your grandchildren's children."
"God forbid. Push now, Storm," he urged even as he felt her whole body begin to work.
Faintly, Storm realized that she no longer had control. Nature and her body's instincts held the reins. The pain was there, yet she was not fully aware of it. All she did know was the need to push, to strain with every ounce of strength she had and more. Every inch of her was concentrated on birthing her child. She knew when the baby was free of her body and held her breath with the others until a lusty wail filled the room.
"A sturdy boy, Storm," Eldon announced in a slightly unsteady voice.
Too tired to speak, Storm nodded and smiled, but even as she did, she knew something was wrong. The contractions should have ceased, yet they were still as strong as ever. Her belly worked as if it still meant to expel a child. She looked at her father's weary face, confusion easy to read upon her own.
"Something is wrong," she gasped, and watched all the color fade from her father's face. "I do not feel finished."
Eldon's hands went to her stomach, finding it still hard and large, contractions rippling through it. For a moment he was stunned into speechlessness. Elaine and Hilda sprang to life, and he laughed shakily.
"You are not finished. There is yet another to be born. I should have realized, you carried so heavy. Be strong, little one, this must surely be the last. Then you
