But if she could give Adelaide some comfort in this time, he would not argue the point.

Another hoarse, harsh cry that seemed to last for an entire minute sounded from upstairs, and Harrison cursed softly, turning to grip the chair behind his desk. He could not bear any of this, and he would move heaven and earth to keep Adelaide from ever having to bear this much pain and struggle ever again.

He would go without being intimate, he would never touch her again, be miserable every day in existence while joined with her in marriage just to spare her this. How did any man ever come out of the experience with sanity intact?

His jacket was long gone, as was his cravat, and he had rolled his sleeves back only an hour ago, needing something to lessen the perspiration that his sympathetic distress was bringing about. He probably looked like hell, but as he was probably going to go mad in the next little while and thence be confined to an asylum, there seemed to be no point in being concerned about his appearance.

He heard Adelaide cry out in raw agony, some semblance of a word in its depths. He stepped to the corridor, looking toward the stairs, just in case she was saying something that he could hear.

“HARRISON!”

His heart stopped in his chest, his frame going cold. It was his wife screaming, there was no doubt of that, but could she really mean—

“HARRISON!”

He bolted for the stairs, taking them two at a time to fly to his wife’s side as fast as possible. He burst into her chambers, taking in the sight before him.

Adelaide was in her nightdress, lying on the bed, knees bent, her hair plaited but streaming from the confines of it, her face shrouded in perspiration, her cheeks flushed beyond anything he thought humanly possible. Emblyn was on the far side of the bed, grasping Adelaide’s hand, while the doctor and his nurse looked busy at the foot of the bed.

“I’m here, Addie,” Harrison assured her, crossing to the bed and taking her free hand in his, kissing her fingers gently. “I’m here.”

“I can’t do it,” Adelaide gasped, shaking her head against the pillow. “I can’t do it anymore. It’s too much, I’m not strong enough.”

“You are!” He squeezed her hand, kneeling beside her. “You are, Addie. You have been so strong already. You can do this.”

Whimpering, she shook her head from side to side. “I can’t. I can’t. I’m not—” She broke down into weary, desperate tears, continuing to shake her head.

His heart ached for her, and he looked at the doctor in desperation.

The doctor looked mildly sympathetic. “We need her to push in a moment, my lord. The baby is presenting and must come out. We told her as much, which was when she called foryou.”