Unseeing, Kendra missed her footing and would have fallen if strong male arms hadn’t caught her and drawn her down to the sofa. Lucas’s warm embrace enfolded her against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart helped steady her shattered nerves.

“Suzanne, order hot tea,” Lucas ordered. “And brandy as well.”

Kendra heard Suzanne ring for the tea, felt Lucas wrap a knee robe around her shaking shoulders. “You’re safe here, Kendra,” he said in his low, soothing voice as he cradled her against him. “Whatever horror has attacked you is from the past. Now you’re safe with friends.”

It wasn’t long before a hot mug fragrant with tea and brandy was pressed between her clenched hands. “Drink,” Lucas said firmly.

She took a sip, then a larger one. Warmth began curling through her and her mind began to clear. “I’m sorry,” she said in a ragged voice. “That was . . . very strange.”

“But also very real,” Lucas said quietly. “What are you remembering?”

She began to shake again.

Suzanne sat on her left side and slid a comforting hand around Kendra’s waist, below Lucas’s arm, which encircled her from the right. “Terrible memories lose some of their power when they are spoken aloud.” Wry humor entered Suzanne’s voice. “Ask me how I know.”

Kendra managed a crooked smile, knowing that Suzanne must have survived shattering difficulties herself. “I didn’t realize what I had forgotten until I held Madeline.” Her gaze sharpened and she looked around the drawing room. “Where is she? She’s all right?”

“I sent her up to the nursery with her nurse,” Suzanne said. “She’s fine and happy. It’s you I’m worried about.”

Kendra closed her eyes for long moments as she pieced together jagged fragments of the past. Opening her eyes, she said, “I was nearing my time when Denshire decided that he wanted his son to be born at the family seat, Denfield Park. He was convinced the child would be a boy even though I pointed out to him that daughters happen.”

“Indeed they do,” Suzanne said. “It must have been a difficult journey.”

Kendra shuddered at the memory. “It was winter and we were traveling a particularly rutted section of road when my labor began. After that . . .” Kendra shook her head. “Everything is so confused. We stopped at the next village inn we came to and a midwife was called. I don’t remember her name, but she had fair hair and . . . kind hands.”

She took a deep swallow of tea. “There was terrible pain and bleeding and I heard myself screaming but it seemed a long distance off. I felt very separate from what was happening. Later I was told that no one thought I’d survive.