Excerpt of A Game of Chance by Lauren Linwood

The whispers sounded like screams echoing in her head. All Cara Lee's senses had magnified over the last twenty hours while she labored to bring forth the baby. She weakly gripped the cheap coverlet in her fists, willing the pain to go far away.

"The blood loss is great, sir. If you had only called me earlier, I might have—"

"Just leave. Give me a few minutes . . . with my wife."

Gordon's voice. Full of anguish. Oh, he was good.

The midwife walked reluctantly to the door. "Five minutes only, sir."

"Yes, yes." He eased the woman out the door and leaned against it, his long frame graceful as he removed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his brow.

What had she seen in him? Cara Lee wished she could reverse time, return to being the naïve schoolgirl she'd been before she listened to his flattery and lies. He was so handsome on the stage. She'd almost taken leave of her senses when he actually spoke to her after the performance.

Suddenly another pain gripped her belly. She gave out a low, guttural howl.

"My God, Cara Lee. You sound like a wolf in the wild."

Gordon pulled up the lone rickety chair, fixing the crease in his trousers

before turning his attention to her.

"The midwife says you're dying. Something about losing too much blood. Don't worry about the baby. I'll take him to Max."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What if it's a girl?" She wouldn't have been bold enough to cross him before. Funny, how dying changed everything.

Her husband shrugged. "I suppose a girl will do. Either way, I'll get my money."

So it was true. He'd married her for reasons other than love. And by marrying a penniless actor, her Boston Brahmin parents disowned their foolish, only child. She had nowhere to turn in these last minutes.

Gordon took out his money clip. He placed a few bills on the bed, soaked in her sweat and water and blood.

"That's enough to satisfy the midwife. Sorry I don't have enough for your funeral, love."

Cara Lee bit back the scream and held it in her throat. The contraction ended. She refused to give him another reason to belittle her.

To her surprise, Gordon pecked her on the cheek. He reeked of cheap perfume and another woman.

"Try to hurry, dear. I've got an appointment and still need to take the baby to a wet nurse for a few weeks before I present it to Max. I'll share how you passed in childbirth." He chuckled. "You know, Reverend Monty could do your funeral."

Cara Lee remembered the jovial man who married them. He had smiled broadly at her throughout the brief ceremony.

"That would be nice," she murmured, as she floated away. The odd feeling of euphoria was short-lived as she gasped, torn apart once again. She was past tears now. She only wished she were past the never-ending pain.

"No, come to think of it, he's in Chicago. Doing King Lear if I'm not mistaken."

She tried to focus on what her husband said, but he didn't make any sense.

Gordon beamed down at her. "You didn't really think we were married, pet? I thought you realized long ago Monty was a fellow thespian."

The banging on the door interrupted him. "Please, sir. Let me back in."

Her lover, her great deceiver, opened the door and ushered the stout woman in. "Shall I wait in the hall?"

The midwife came to the bed and lifted the covers. "My God, the baby's coming. Push, missus. Push for your life!"

Cara Lee gritted her teeth and bore down. Relief washed over her.

"There, little one."

Cara Lee heard a slap and a hearty cry. She saw her baby. Love burst from her.

"It's a boy, missus. Hale and hearty."

Rustlings and soft noises were all Cara Lee heard as she faded in and out. Then in her exhaustion, she sat up.

"He's mine," she spit out, glaring at Gordon Fisher. "You can't take him."

"I can, dear girl. This child is the meal ticket to my trust fund. Max wouldn't loosen his grip and leave all his money to a worthless actor. But a father?"

He took the baby, now clean and wrapped in his mother's ivory shawl. "Thank you for all you did, my dear."

Gordon retreated from the room. She let out an anguished cry.

"Well, I never . . ." The midwife shook her head. "Let's see if I can make you comfortable, dearie."

Cara Lee moaned as the woman fussed over her. She was having trouble breathing again. A great weight pressed upon her.

"The worst is over now, missus. Let me just deal with the afterbirth. Maybe I can staunch the bleeding."

As the midwife lifted the sheet again, she gasped. "Oh, my lord."

Cara Lee broke out in a cold sweat. The pain was back again, even worse. Her body, her spirit, her faith in her husband. All had been broken. How much more could she bear?

The midwife clucked loudly. "Another one's coming, child. You'll have to be strong."

The burning urge to push returned, stronger than the first time. She bit her lip and willed the baby to exit the birth canal. The burden eased from her, and the midwife cut the cord as before.

"Another boy. Spittin' image of the other tyke."

Cara Lee smiled weakly at the newborn. The room began to grow dark. She reached out to her child. "I love you, sweet boy."

The baby gurgled happily.

"You mustn't call him back. Don't ever let . . ." Her voice trailed off.

A wet cloth glided across her forehead. What I wouldn't give for a sip of cool water.

Minutes later the midwife pulled the stained bed sheet over the woman's head. She stared blankly at the wide-eyed baby in her arms.

"Lord Almighty. I never even knew your mama's name."