Duncan very much doubted that the china doll would have such a miraculous effect, but who was he to argue? He untied the ribbon, tossed aside the lid, and held the box so Merry could see the doll.
Moving closer, Merry angled the babe toward the box. “Look what a lovely dolly Uncle Duncan brought you. Wasn’t that thoughtful?”
The little one growled like a wee beastie.
“I dinna blame her,” Duncan said. “I told that infernal woman the doll was not a proper gift for a new bairn.”
Laughing softly, Merry resettled the babe in her arms. “I fear nothing would please Miss Abby at the moment. She is most petulant for some unknown reason.” With a bouncing walk, she strolled around the room, trying to appease the unhappy babe. She glanced back at him as she returned to the window and the beam of sunshine. “Would you like to tell me why you are here, other than to give your new niece a gift that you do not like?”
“I miss ye.” He resettled his stance, feeling as though he’d just placed his neck in the noose. “The feckin’ house is like a tomb without ye there.”
Miss Abby cut loose with an infuriated yowl.
Duncan jumped, fearing the child had taken a sudden turn for the worse. “Is she all right? She sounds as though she hurts.”
“Oh my goodness,” Merry crooned while repositioning the baby up to her shoulder and rubbing the little one’s back. “She must have a touch of the colic. No wonder she is so unhappy. Her belly hurts.”
“Well…do something. Make her feel better.”
Merry snorted a laugh. “And what do you suggest I do, Uncle Duncan?”
“I dinna ken.” He threw up his hands. “Just make her not hurt.”
“Here. You try.”
Before he realized Merry’s intentions, he found himself holding the squirming, red-faced infant. He tried to hand her back. “I dinna ken a thing about babies. Take her back.”
Merry backed away, folding her arms and shaking her head. “Hold her close and support her head. She needs to feel safe.”
Breath held, Duncan cradled the infuriated wee one closer, shifting her to lie on her belly on his chest and hopefully rest her head on his shoulder. She did not. Instead, she reared up like a sea beastie rising from a loch, arching her little back as her head bobbed and bounced from side to side. He cupped her head in his palm, trying to keep her stable. “Be still now, lassie. Be still. Dinna hurt yer wee neck.” He scowled at Merry. “Why can she not hold up her head?”
With the smugness that only a woman could possess, she smiled. “She is too young. That is why you must support her head. Cuddle her. Let her know that you care.”
“Here now, wee one, do ye wish to look out the window?” Duncan gingerly bounced his way across the room as he had seen Merry do. “Is this any way to greet yer uncle who’s come all the way from London to see ye?”
The baby’s cries softened to hitching growls but didn’t stop. Every so often, she would unleash another enraged growl.
“Keep talking to her,” Merry said. “She sounds calmer.”
“Calmer?” Duncan snorted as he turned the babe toward the brightness of the window. “Yer Auntie Merry’s gone barmy in the head, wee one. Ye dinna sound calmer to me.”
Her growls diminished to an irritated grumbling, and she actually rested her head on his shoulder.
He gently rubbed and patted up and down her back.
She rewarded him with an impressive belch and snuggled even closer.
“Well done,” Merry said. “That air was hurting her.” Appearing more than a little impressed, she directed him to the cradle beside the window. “You can lay her down now, if you wish. She is probably ready for a nap.”
Not quite ready to relinquish the warm little bundle that seemedto have taken a liking to him, Duncan remained in place. “I think I should hold her a wee bit longer in case there’s more air to be gotten out of her.”
“I see.” Merry drew close enough that her scent of lilacs washed across him. “I believe she likes her Uncle Duncan.”
“Aye, well…” He didn’t know what to say about that.
“I missed you too, you know.”
His heart beat faster with renewed hope. “Did ye truly?”
