Gallant Rogue (Reluctant Heroes Book 3) Read Online Free

I’m sorry, Auntie. I’m just so hungry it’s making me unpleasant. And I’m hot,” Cherie whined. “I’m so terribly hot.”
    “Well, then, put your bonnet back on and open your parasol. That’s why you’re overheating.” Lady Greystowe instructed as she turned around and tugged at the reins. “Shall we drop the girls at the plantation house and go for a little jaunt about the island?” she asked, her voice rising with excitement at the prospect of an outing without the children.
    Chloe nodded. It sounded refreshing to go for ride about the island with Lady Greystowe.
    When they pulled up into the courtyard in the back of the house, a maid emerged from the open stable door, running at a wild pace. “My lady, my lady--we were just about the send out a groom to find you. Madame has gone into labor. His lordship asked that we find you, Mrs. O’Donovan, as her ladyship is asking for you to attend her.”
    “Oh, heaven above.” Lady Greystowe set the brake on the open carriage and allowing the waiting groom to help her down. “She has a fortnight yet before her lying in.”
     

 
    Chapter Two
     
    Chloe went to her room to compose herself for the ordeal.
    She examined her reflection. The woman staring back at her was pale, thin, with deep smudges beneath her eyes. I can’t go through this—not today. Not on the anniversary of my Gareth’s death. Not on the same day Baby John was born.  Not today of all days!
    Childbirth was a dark passage. Much could go wrong.
    What if Elizabeth dies this time? I cannot bear this.
    And yet, bear it she must. The thought of her beloved friend suffering alone in throes of hard labor spurred Chloe into action. She turned from the mirror to change into an older dress that wouldn’t mind more stains.  Once changed, she rushed down the hall to the master suite on the opposite end of the large plantation house.
    Elizabeth’s spouse, Count Rochembeau, was there to oversee the birth. He was a physician and a proponent of the use of forceps in the birthing chamber. Chloe took in the long handled iron clamps, wrapped with cloth to insulate the patient from the coldness of the metal, and shivered. She remembered the agony of those last hard hours of delivering Baby John, and the stark relief that came when the forceps finished the exhausting effort to bring him forth.
    “This is the last time,” Elizabeth scolded her husband in a warbled, thin voice.  “Don’t ever touch me again. No more babies! Oooh, it’s ripping me apart.”
    Four deliveries, five babies, as their oldest boys were twins, and it was always the same. The countess would spew fury at her husband, blaming him for her agonies and swear that this babe would be the last. They endured her fury, as all knew it was just her way of dealing with the agonizing pain of giving birth.
    Elizabeth’s anguished moans tore at Chloe’s heart. She hurried to Elizabeth and took her hand from the housekeeper.  “Easy, Lizzie,” Chloe said, squeezing her hand and stroking her damp temple with her fingertips. “My grandmother said it helps to breathe deep, in and then out again, and focus your mind on the child’s name. What is this one to be called?” 
    Elizabeth was ashen. Her skin glistened with moisture. Wisps of hair were plastered to her long neck and her brow as she struggled through the harsh pains. She gave a garbled cry. Her hand gripped Chloe’s.  “Ohhh. I can’t push any longer.”
    The strength of Elizabeth’s grip was enough to break her bones. Chloe and Elizabeth had been through this before, many times. Chloe experienced the agonies of childbirth but once, yet she had been present each time Elizabeth gave birth. Elizabeth’s last child had been a big baby. His large size nearly proved too much for the poor woman. Her husband had pulled the child free with those blessed forceps. It was the first time he had used them, and now he swore by them.
    “Shhh, be still, Lizzie.” The count was preparing to