Still eyeing him with a look that said he was not forgiven, she eased the sleeping child into his arms, then pushed up from the rocker. “Remember to mind her little head.”
“Aye, my own. I remember.” He rested the babe in the crook of his arm and settled her against his chest. “See? Now go. Lay ye downand dinna snore. Ye might wake the bairn.”
“I do not snore.”
“Aye, ye do. I remember from the inn and that first night we spent together. Ye did yerself proud with fine, fierce snores that night.”
“Hmpf!” She fetched a blanket from the back of a chair, settled on the chaise, and covered herself to her chin.
Duncan couldn’t help but stare, soaking in the wonder of this woman who had captured him heart and soul. Then the baby grunted and squirmed, demanding his attention. “Now, now, Mistress Abby. Yer Uncle Duncan has ye. Rest yerself so ye will grow big enough to play with that ridiculous doll I brought ye.”
The defiant angel opened her eyes and stared up at him, pulling all manner of expressions as she studied him.
“Ye’ve eyes like yer auntie,” he said ever so softly. “Blue as sapphires and bright as the stars in the sky.”
The plump pink bow of her mouth pooched with a tiny pout, then she yawned, wrinkling her nubbin of a nose and fisting her little hands.
“Aye, ye see there? Ye need to sleep, child. Listen to yer Uncle Duncan. I am the wisest man ye will ever meet.”
A snort came from the chaise longue.
“Yer Auntie Merry thinks so too, even though she’ll not admit it,” he said. “I just hope she knows how much I love her, and how verra sorry I am for listening to my demons rather than her.” He put his little finger in the baby’s palm and swallowed hard as her perfect little fingers closed around it and held on tightly. “Demons are a terrible thing, lassie. If ye ever come upon one, ye call me, aye? I’ll hunt down the bastard and slay it for ye.” He wrinkled his nose. “Sorry. Dinna ever use the wordbastard. ’Twould not be ladylike or proper.”
With his finger clutched ever so snugly in her hand, little Abby gradually relaxed and finally dropped off into a deeper slumber.
“There now, my fine wee one,” he whispered. “Sleep well. The angels and Uncle Duncan are watching over ye.”
Merry appeared at his side and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Well done, Uncle Duncan, wisest of the wise.”
“Ye are supposed to be resting.”
“When I try to nap, it always eludes me.” She gently released his finger from Abby’s grasp and lifted the babe from his arms. “Shall we try the cradle again?”
“Whatever ye think, my own.”
She settled the cherub into her bed, then eased a few steps back and waited. No sound came from the cradle. Miss Abigail Jennette was finally fast asleep.
Then Merry turned and held out her hand. When he took it, she led him over to the chaise and pulled him down beside her. Nestling against him, she wrapped his arm around her. “I have missed you, my champion.” But she sounded sad.
“Merry.”
She snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest. Her delectable fragrance of lilacs had softened and mixed with the indescribable scent of the wee babe, an intoxicating blend of all that was new and right with the world, an aroma of possibilities. “Yes?”
“Dinna be unhappy.”
“I am not—”
“Dinna lie to yer husband.”
She shifted against him with a heavy sigh. “I want us to be whole rather than fractured.”
“I know, my own, I know.” He released a heavy sigh of his own, slowly stroking her hair as the tension gradually left her and her breathing evened out to a slow, deep rhythm. His precious angel, whom he’d tormented so, had finally captured the nap she had been chasing. Bless her weary soul.
He treasured this moment and stored it away, memorizing every sensation. These moments would help him fight the demons of his past and keep them in the shadows where they belonged. For fightthem he would, and overcome his fears—and if, heaven forbid, his worst nightmare came to fruition, at least he would have precious moments of happiness to treasure all the rest of his days.
*
Merry stared ather reflection in the dressing table mirror as Jenny took down her hair and brushed it. The day had been so bittersweet. Watching Duncan with the baby had made her heart ache and renewed the insatiable yearning for a child of her own. And tonight, he would be in her bed. His warmth, his scent, his deep, rumbling voice—all tempting her to go back on her word and be thankful for whatever his demons allowed him to give her.
