Her eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of their room, as the months had gone on the more restless she had become. She felt as if she had turned into a small mountain, had she been this large before? Her fingers traced invisible patterns along the material covering her stomach, it was a small habit, but it always soothed her. The warmth of his arm coming to rest along her waist (or what remained of it) caused her to pause, he shifted closer to her. A glance at his face as well as the even breathing against her shoulder told her he was still asleep. She allowed her hand to find his and place it along her stomach as well, it was a connection she needed and one he had no idea existed. The heat he projected, and the simple connection of his hand on the place where their child rested filled her with a contentment she could not describe.

A dull ache in her lower back broke the peaceful musings of her mind, she tried to wait it out, but it seemed the longer she laid down the worse the pain became. She gently slid out from under the arm around her and pushed herself upright, the relief was immediate. Her eyes slid closed as the pain lessened. A familiar cry echoing from down the hall had her walking towards the nursery. She could hear the nanny beginning to stir to quiet her son's cries, it would be seen as improper for her to go in, the cries grew louder and she decided propriety did not matter.

She lifted the familiar weight of her son from his crib and held him. She could feel the dampness of his tear stained face against her neck, and the small hands that held her hair and nightgown in a strong grip. His cries quieted to whimpers, and then finally to silence. When she turned she saw the nanny standing behind her unsure of what to do.

"Would you like me to put him back down, m'lady?" the older woman's voice was rough from sleep.

Her head shook in response, "I'll take care of him this time."

The sound of their voices had disturbed the nursery's other occupant; the sounds of a toddler being woken up from rest were beginning to fill the air.

"You see to Miss Sybbie." She instructed.

Giving the nanny some privacy she walked back to the hallway. She looked down at the boy against her shoulder, and brown eyes met sleepy blue. Placing a kiss within the unruly hair on his head, she walked to the stairs. She remembered being a young girl and sometimes sneaking down to the library just to sit, Carson had caught her once and it had remained their secret. The library was warm thanks to the summer air, she settled in one of the chairs by the window. Another look down confirmed that sleep had not taken over, she began to sing. She could see tiny eyelids fighting against the exhaustion, and then finally he could protest no more. Her fingers ran through his hair and down his back, just holding him close. It was a bit of a feat with her being as large as she was, but she welcomed it.

As she stared out at the night sky, she realized she found her own behavior unusual.

"You're going to be such a wonderful mother."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're such a wonderful woman."

Tears filled her eyes, but they did not fall as they once would have. She still worried about being a good mother, at first she had been so cold and distant, but now she was more affectionate. It might just be a kiss here and there, a hug, or even just holding him, but it was more than she had ever expected herself to be capable of. In many ways she was stronger, but she had also softened.

His eyes blinked open in the dark, his hand reached out for her warmth beside him, he was met with nothing but quickly cooling sheets. He was quickly awake, where was she? He knew worrying was pointless, but that did not stop him from doing so. His first instinct was to check the nursery, she was not there. Next he checked the kitchen, nothing again. He truly began to worry, that was until he noticed the door to the library was cracked. He crept in as quietly as he could, his eyes found her almost immediately. Her reflection was visible in the window, although he doubted she saw him.

His voice was barely above a whisper as he approached her, "what are you doing down here at this hour?"

Her eyes glanced up to meet his over the chair, "I had trouble sleeping, and then I heard him crying."

Until that moment he had not realized she had George in her arms, the little boy was curled flush against his mother, their shades of hair blended together.

"You know I checked the nursery first when I woke up and saw you were gone, I never thought to see if he was in his crib." His voice was still tinged with exhaustion, but there was a trace of humor as he spoke.

The corners of her mouth quirked up in a small smile, "I used to come down here when I was younger and had trouble sleeping. This room has always given me peace, and it just felt right coming tonight."

His fingers brushed under hair, and slowly rubbed the muscles in her neck. She could feel her eyes sliding closed. The sound of his voice a few minutes later had her opening her eyes once again.

"Here, hand him to me, and then it is back to bed for us." His words were punctuated with a kiss on her forehead.

They made the exchange easily, and then he was helping her to her feet and up the stairs. She watched as he placed their son back in his bed, and then run a gentle hand over his head. Her eyes were drifting shut as they walked back to their room, her head resting against his shoulder. As she settled back against her pillow, she could feel his arm wrap back around her waist holding her to him. She was almost asleep when the pain began again, this time worse than before. She waited to see if the pain would ease, after a few moments it did. As she allowed herself to doze she acknowledged that things were getting close.

The morning arrived just hours after they had returned to bed, and despite sleeping she still felt exhausted. The rumpled sheets beside her told her that he was awake. Shrugging off the exhaustion she felt, she rang for breakfast. She went through her routine of eating and then preparing for the day. She could hear voices coming from within the library as she walked downstairs, whatever was said was soon followed by his laughter. That particular sound brought a smile to her face.

After having stolen him from the library earlier that morning, they had gone for a walk until the pain in her back and now stomach had made them turn around. He had stared at her with concern, and she had claimed tiredness as the reason for stopping so soon. They had filled the hours between then and luncheon within the nursery. Every so often he would notice her eyes shut and the line of her jaw harden. It was just before dinner when everything happened.

He sat in the chair by the window watching Anna get her ready. His eyes traced over her, looking for any sign of what he suspected was happening. The sound of his name being hissed out between clenched teeth immediately grabbed his attention.

"Is it..." his voice trailed off as he saw the look on her face.

Her eyes shut against the pain, her hand reached for his, "yes."

He nodded for Anna to leave, trusting she would inform the others. He had no idea what to do, the one hand he had free he used to rub along her back, and he felt her lean against him. He could feel sweat form between their intertwined fingers, and the grip tighten as she tried to handle the pain. They pulled apart only when Anna reentered the room.

He felt useless. Being confined to the library with the other men, and the Dowager, was testing his patience. His fingers raked his hair, the whisky did nothing to calm his nerves, and the constant sitting and standing anytime the door opened was eating him from the inside out. He wished he would have insisted on staying in the room, it had to be better than this.

Hours went by, and still no news. He closed his eyes in resignation, no matter how impatient he was, he knew she had the harder part. His mind wondered to whether they would have a boy or girl, what name would they choose, who she or he would look like. It was not the first time he had thought about such things, but now they were becoming a reality. His musings were broken by the door opening, this time he was greeted with a smile from Anna and told he could go up. He wasted no time.

He stopped just before the door, for the first time he realized he was nervous. His hand shook as he placed it on the handle, now or never, he realized. He was greeted with smiles from Mrs. Crawley and Cora. Both touched his hand as the exited, he finally allowed himself to look at her. She was leaning back against the headboard holding a small bundle. The smile that graced her face when she saw him could be described as nothing short of radiant. He felt as if he was walking on stilts as he made his way to them, his vision blurry. He eased his weight on bed beside them, both so wrapped up in the moment they did not notice Dr. Clarkson quietly leave the room.

"Well are you going to ask?" she questioned, one eyebrow raised slightly in amusement.

His eyes kept going between her and the baby, "ask what?"

"If we have a son or daughter." Now she had his full attention.

His eyes widened, "do we have a son or daughter?" his voice broke at the end.

Her lips ghosted along his jaw for one moment, and then she passed him the baby. "Say hello to Margaret Elizabeth Blake, your daughter."

His eyes shot to hers in disbelief, his fingers traced over the shot of dark hair on the infant's head. It was impossible to tell who she looked most like, either way she was beautiful.

"Mary?" he asked as he rested his forehead against hers.

"Yes, Charles?" her eyes slid closed.

"Thank you. For her, for George, for everything really." His words were whispered against her lips in an innocent kiss.

She leaned back so she could meet his eyes, "I think we both have a lot to be thankful for."

His head nodded in agreement, "there is only one thing, or rather one person missing."

"Go get him, he should be here." Her words were said with a smile.

He passed her their daughter, and with another soft kiss to her lips, he went to go wake their son.