Work Text:
Blakeney Hall 1793
Percy galloped the horse towards the house, all the more eager to get home now that it was finally in sight. He hated being away from Marguerite at a time like this, and hopefully he himself wouldn't be required to help the league again until after the babe was born.
He bounded into the hall, a full smile already stretching across his features. He could feel it start to dim as all the servants began to gather in the hall, his focus especially on Mrs Tanner as she approached carrying a lace bundle.
"The babe was early, Sir."
The solemn looks on their faces made fear start to grow in the pit of his stomach. "Marguerite?"
"Marguerite?" He heard the desperation in his voice as he repeated himself before anyone had the chance to speak.
"The babe was early, Sir, and there was trouble. The surgeon did all he could but her ladyship is still very weak."
The knot lessened slightly, the situation not quite as dire as his fears had predicted. "Where is she?"
"Upstairs in her rooms, Sir."
Percy brushed past Planchet to head upstairs, and he could hear everyone scrambling to keep up with him.
"The surgeon said it was miraculous that she survived, Sir, and she will be weak for some time to come. He left instructions," poor Planchet had to pause for breath, "and we have followed them to the letter."
They had reached the top of the stairs, and Percy turned down the corridor that would lead him straight to Marguerite's rooms.
"She has seen the babe, Sir, but she wanted to wait until your return to name her."
Percy finally paused to look at the babe. "A girl?" All he could see peeking out of the mass of lace blankets was two tiny chubby cheeks, a button nose and two closed eyes. He reached out to pull the blanket back a little and found the babe placed in his arms almost immediately.
He resumed walking, and he knew the route well enough that he could watch his daughter avidly as he made his way to Marguerite.
-
He was completely besotted by the time he reached Marguerite's door. The little one had wriggled contentedly in his arms and looked like she was happily dreaming. He had pushed back the blanket to see a tiny fist, a fist that was now curled around his finger, and possibly his heart but it wouldn't do to admit to such things.
Marguerite was lying peacefully in bed, the curtains drawn back to allow light into the room. He could see even from the doorway how pale she looked, and his stomach dropped again.
She is still alive, that is the main thing, he reminded himself. He forced himself to move from where he had been rooted to the spot.
He delicately lowered himself onto the opposite side of the bed, trying not to disturb Marguerite as he stretched out alongside her, murmuring to his daughter as he moved her in his arms to settle properly. From his new position leaning against the headboard he could watch both of them sleep, and it was a relief to see that for all Marguerite looked deathly pale, her breathing was even and her skin didn't have that sallow tone that indicated she wasn't healing.
He relaxed against the headboard. He could wait for her to wake, to hear her speak and get final reassurance that she was healing. He would wait all day if that was what was required.
-
Mrs Tanner had brought the wet nurse and his daughter was suckling happily by the time Marguerite woke. The sun had moved around the other side of the house, leaving the room beginning to dull.
"Percy." She sounded as weak as she looked, but by God, it was marvellous to hear her utter anything. He knew he was grinning like a mad man but it couldn't be helped. She moved her arm as if to reach out to him, and he quickly intercepted and reached for her hand himself. He lay a delicate kiss on her palm before grinning at her.
"How are you feeling?"
She smiled faintly. "Tired." She opened her eyes fully and looked searchingly at him. "The mission?"
"A success." Before he could say anything else, two maids arrived with trays of food, obviously fetched by the now returning footman. Mrs Tanner also bustled in, and he leaned back and ate a little of the cheese laid out as Mrs Tanner fussed and the maids helped Marguerite sit up.
She was strong enough to spoon several mouthfuls of the broth herself before she set the spoon down. He wasn't sure if the break was due to exhaustion or the fact the babe had stopped suckling and was busy starting to fuss. Whatever the reason, a beautiful smile blossomed on her face and she pushed the bowl of broth away.
"My lady, the surgeon left orders you must finish before you hold the babe." Mrs Tanner was clearly taking no chances.
Marguerite got that determined glint in her eyes, and as grateful as he was to see it, he knew she must eat to regain her strength.
"I will hold her close while you finish your broth." There was that little wrinkle of distaste at the idea, and he kissed her palm again. "I know it is a foul confection, but you must gather your strength, and I promise I shall pester the surgeon for something more appetising when he returns."
Marguerite let out an audible sigh. "I suppose I must."
Percy grinned again and reluctantly let go of her hand to fetch the babe.
Both arms now freed from the blankets, his daughter waved both fists in the air and wriggled in his grasp, and he let out a a burst of laughter at her spirit. Her eyes were open now and he could see they were the same colour as Marguerite's. He heard the spoon drop into the bowl again as he sat down and angled himself towards Marguerite.
"Now comes the serious business. We can't have everyone referring to her merely as the babe, so what should we call this little one?" His finger was being gripped by a tiny fist once again, and Marguerite was smiling softly at them both. "I know. Marguerite after her magnificent mother."
"Percy." Marguerite protested. "That would just confuse matters."
He grinned relentlessly until she rolled her eyes and ate another spoonful of broth.
"Very well, we can't have that, can we?" He ran a finger not currently in a death grip over the little one's cheek. "Margaret then."
He heard Marguerite's sigh before he looked up. "Not confusing at all." He added though she was smiling slightly.
"All right. I suppose we can give her a nickname." Her eyes dropped to where he was stroking Margaret's cheek, and she pushed away the now empty bowl. "Let me hold her."
Percy gently disentangled himself from Margaret's fist and gently placed her in Marguerite's waiting arms. Likely neither would be awake for much longer but he would sit and watch for as long as they were.
It was a sight that would take more than a lifetime to grow old, and he fully intended to cherish every moment of it.