He shook his head quickly, stopping her next words. "Only dead is dead. Until then, we try."

We. The word bolstered her a drastic fashion. We.

Gemma straightened. "When the contractions pass, we must hold the baby in place. We must not let up." She turned to Cabot, who despite being soaked all down the front with water, made Gemma feel abruptly frumpy. She scowled at the poor man. "Fetch four blocks to prop the bed."

"Gemma." Lysander had his hand resting lightly on the upper curve of Jennie's belly. "They're starting again."

Gemma took a breath. "Right. Remember, this time, don't let up between."

THE EFFORT REQUIRED WAS much more this time, but Lysander made no complaint.

This was a new sort of battlefield, a quieter, grimmer and yet more hopeful battle field. But it was a war nonetheless, and Gemma and Jennie's enemy was the most dreaded of all.

Lysander believed in Gemma the way he'd scarcely ever believed in a commander before. Gemma took the front line, she raised the first sword, she fired the first shot.

She was one of the most valiant warriors Lysander had ever seen, and as long as Gemma wanted that hill taken, Lysander would strive to take it.

And Jennie — poor Jennie, both victim and last line of defense — Jennie's very body would fight alongside them and they would prevail.

They must prevail. Lysander felt a depth of fear for Gemma that he never felt for himself, not in all the hours of mud and blood and cannon fire.

If Gemma could not save Jennie and her child, Lysander feared that she would lose herself forever in darkness and self-hatred.

The way that he had done.

Without losing any focus on his task of pressing the baby downward-ever–downward, Lysander managed to glance at Gemma's face so near his own.

Her hands were pressed alongside his. She was perspiring and gray with exhaustion. Her hair hung limp with sweat. She had a permanent imprint of tears running periodically down her cheeks, as if her worry and dread were seeping out in a slow leak. Her nose dripped, and he watched her turn her head and dab it hurriedly on the dainty cap sleeve of one of the most expensive gowns in the realm.

"Push!" she shouted at him, her breath hot and none too fragrant on his cheek.

And he loved her.

CHAPTER 26

Chapter 26

JENNIE GOSLING'S CHILD LIVED.

When Gemma checked to see how near they were to delivery and saw the smooth bulge of the baby's head crowning, her shriek of relief woke Attie from her sprawl of sleep in the next room. Pol, Mr. Cabot and Mr. Button ran in from their duties in the kitchen.

Attie popped up at the end of the bed "Hmm."

Poll made a halfhearted effort to remove Attie from things she might not be ready for.

She brushed him off with a sneer. "You're too late. I saw Aurora born."