Chapter Twenty-Six
The heart within Nicholas’s chest felt as though it had stopped pumping for a while. Fevers weren’t uncommon, but it was still a scary thought. People died daily of fevers, especially when they let hair-brained physicians bleed them out. He cursed under his breath and burst into the room.
Little Sara was sprawled across the bed with heavy blankets toppling over her. “Take these off!” he ordered the maids. They seemed too scared to move so he did it for them. He pointed to the one closest to him. “Get me some cold water and rags, now!” His voice boomed throughout the house, the maid nearly tripped on her way out.
Nicholas went and put the fire out then opened the window to Sara’s room. She needed fresh air, and he needed to keep her body temperature down; that much was true. He tried to look in control and strong, but he felt like his past was catching up with him.
Hadn’t his first love, the girl he fought for and had Duncan with, hadn’t she died of scarlet fever? Although this was obviously not scarlet fever, it still seemed painfully ironic. He groaned as he pushed the hair from Sara’s face. Her body was soaked with sweat. Had he not seen her merely hours before? He should have stayed with her. Maybe if he would have stayed… Well, if he would have stayed, he might have been sick too. But it should be him in the bed not her; she didn’t deserve this.
Sara’s eyes blazed open as she tried to get out of bed. “Nicholas!” Frantic, he needed to calm her down. He looked to Lady Fenton and began soothing Sara with soft words. By some miracle, she closed her eyes again. She muttered something under her breath. Nicholas leaned in closer to hear.
The words she uttered caused fear like he had never known in his life.
“The baby, Nicholas, the baby,” Nicholas for the second time in two days began sobbing next to his wife.
When his tears dried up, he went outside the room to talk to Lady Fenton. There really was nothing more he could do other than continue to keep her cooled down. Lady Fenton looked strained when he pulled her away from the servant’s ears.
“She’s pregnant?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from crying. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined this scenario. How much of a fool was he? Leaving his pregnant wife while he scoured the Scottish countryside. He wanted someone to shoot him just so he would be put out of his misery.
The tears in Lady Fenton’s eyes returned. “Nicholas, she found out just a while ago. We think she conceived very early on in your relationship.”
“I’ll say,” he muttered.
Lady Fenton ignored his sarcastic comment. “Is she going to live?”
He nodded his head. “She isn’t as hot as she once was, but I…I don’t know about the baby. I’m not a doctor. Only time will tell.”
She nodded her head and pulled him into a hug. “She loves you, you know.”
Nicholas sighed. “I love her, too.” A weight suddenly lifted off his shoulders as he realized that he had loved her all this time.
As if reading his thoughts, Lady Fenton gave him a little squeeze on his shoulders. “My boy, she’s known that long before you were aware of it.”
With that she walked off. He knew she needed sleep. The poor woman swayed on her feet—then again he did, too. He spent the rest of the afternoon reading to Sara from some of the novels in the library. He became obsessive, not even letting the maids dress her. He put on clean bedding and replaced her gown with something more comfortable. At one point he woke her up enough to get her to sit in a cool bath while he washed her hair. She was still delirious, but he wanted her to feel comfortable.
On the second day of the fever, Nicholas was starting to get anxious. She hadn’t gotten worse but she wasn’t getting better either. Having a high fever was not good for the baby at all.
He groaned out loud and set his head on Sara’s arm. “I love you,” he said quietly. The tears came soon after. “I love you so much Sara, do you know that? I need you to snap out of this, to come back. I need you. Duncan needs you. Our baby boy needs you.” At the moment he didn’t care if it was a boy or girl. He merely said the first thing that came to mind. “I need you to be strong, and I need you to live, Sara.” He choked on her name. “I love you…just please.” He fell asleep with his head on her arm. It was the first time since he knew her she was the last name on his lips while he prayed and the only one in his mind when he slept.
***
Sara felt like she had been through a hot nightmare. She only remembered bits and pieces of what took place. The one thing that stood out amongst the chaos was Nicholas’s constant presence. He was almost like her own personal angel sitting watch by her bed. She remembered different stories he told her, and most of all his confession earlier that day. She wanted so badly to take him into her arms and cradle him. She loved him so much; he was so dear to her! Yet she couldn’t move, she was so angry at her own treacherous body that she could scream, instead all she managed was a slow moan.
Slowly but surely her body began to feel cooler until finally she opened her eyes and sighed. She was starving. Somehow Nicholas had gotten into the bed and was lying next to her with his arm across her body. He was sleeping rather possessively, his body language clearly saying, “if anyone touches her, I’ll kill him.”
It made her laugh, which made Nicholas open his eyes. The love Sara saw behind them completely un-did her. With as much strength as she could muster she said, “I love you.”
He closed his eyes quickly, but Sara saw what had already escaped down his cheeks. Tears streamed down his handsome face. He pulled her close and said quietly into her ear, “I love you. I adore you. I need you. I—I…” His words were no more than choked sobs as he rocked her back and forth and cried. “I prayed for the baby,” he finally said.
“He’s fine,” Sara said confidently, even though her voice was still raspy.
He smiled weakly. “How do you know that?”
She made a motion that should have been a shrug but looked more like a twitch. “Call it faith.”
He smiled. “My faithful Sara.”
“Nicholas?”
“Hmm?” His eyes were closed next to her.
“Can we start over?”
He smiled warmly. “I’d like that, but first can you ever forgive me for the things I said to you? It was out of fear, and pride and—“
She laughed which seemed to startle him. “Not that I don’t like you groveling at my feet right now and confessing all your sins—but I did say start over. The past is the past; don’t you think we should just leave it there?”
“Wise woman.” He kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t have asked for a better wife.”
“And I couldn’t have asked for a wiser husband, I do believe I have you to thank for saving my life?”
He sobered immediately. “God—not me, I take no credit, my prayer life however has blossomed to extravagant proportions.”
She managed a weak laugh and held his hand. “What should we call him?”
He looked at her curiously. “Our child?”
Sara felt weightless as she thought about spending her life with Nicholas, Duncan, and the new baby. She had no doubt the baby would be healthy. If anything the baby would be stronger after helping her fight such a battle.
“Let’s name him Samuel,” he said, invading her thoughts.
Tears welled in her eyes. “I think that’s a perfect name.”
He laughed. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”
So she did. She slept for the better part of three days, falling in and out of sleep until she was so tired of being tired, she thought she would scream.
During the afternoon of the third day, Nicholas paid a visit. Glued to her side for the past few days, it left her little time for herself; not that she minded it one bit. She had after all spent countless weeks without him by her side.
“Why am I not surprised to see you?” She laughed.
Nicholas pretended to be wounded as he threw his hand across his heart. “Oh so you don’t want your surprise then?”
She jerked up in her bed. “Surprise?”
He shook his head. “Well, I guess if you’re going to behave that way then—“
“Nicholas Renwick don’t you dare mess with the sick!”
“Fine, fine.” He put up his hands innocently. “You’re a heavy sleeper, by the way. I was able to get this done without you even stirring.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Good to see you’ve gotten part of your attitude back,” he mumbled turning toward the door that adjoined their rooms.
She stuck out her tongue when his back was to her. It made her feel slightly better.
“Do you think you can walk, or do you want me to carry you?” he asked tenderly. What she wanted to do was hit him for assuming she was that weak, but then again he had been terrified of losing her, she shouldn’t be so mean.
She huffed. “I think I can manage.”
“Then I’ll lead the way.” He opened the door and walked into the next room. She followed slowly after. It was hard for her to move out of bed; her body wanted to go slow, but her mind was so curious she wanted to run. By the time she reached his room, she was perspiring and out of breath. She really needed to regain her strength.
He stood behind her and kissed her neck. “Surprise.”
The entire room had been decorated with wildflowers. He had obviously been very busy. In the far corner of the room stood a tub with roses floating in the water; it smelled absolutely heavenly. “I don’t know what to say!” She flung her arms around him and started thanking him in the way she had been dreaming of for days.