The little girl’s lip stuck out. “It hurts.”
“It must be too hot,” Brogan said helpfully, leaning over Avalyn’s shoulder as she picked up the big white bar of soap left by the innkeeper. “Perhaps we should cool it.”
Avalyn put her hand in it; it was warm, but not too hot. “It’s well enough. She’s just not used to it.” She began pouring it over the child, soaking her. Then she lathered up the soap and went to work.
Brogan moved away from the pair and sat upon the bed, watching Avalyn, in her deep purple silks, gently but firmly scrub the dirty little street urchin. The child cried initially, but gradually settled down and even started playing in the water. Isobel’s expensive aubergene-colored gown surely should not have gotten wet, but Avalyn didn’t seem to care as the little girl began splashing about happily. When she was washing the child’s hair, a big glob of soap hit her in the mouth but she only laughed. Seated on the mattress, Brogan laughed, too. It was a charming scene.
The bath didn’t last too long, but Brogan wished it would have gone on for eternity. He could have watched Avalyn tend the child for the rest of his life. She was firm yet tender, sweet and caring. He’d never seen anything so marvelous in his life, but in the same breath, it reminded him a good deal of his mother. She had been the same way with him, with Jeffrey, and finally with Shaw. He knew that Avalyn would make a magnificent mother to his sons.
Whatever he was feeling for her grew by leaps and bounds in those few minutes he sat and watched her bathe the baby. He couldn’t have run from it if he tried, and he didn’t want to try. He knew at that moment that there was no possible way he would ever let her out of his sight again, not if all of the de Nevilles in England swarmed over him. He wanted her, and he knew she wanted him. They had to be together.
Rising from the mattress, he went over to Avalyn as she kneeled on the floor by the tub. Seating himself behind her, carefully, he made sure to sit close enough to touch her. Water lapped onto his leather breeches but he hardly cared. He only had eyes for the magnificent lady with the golden eyes and the pale little girl with the white-blond hair. Gently, he reached and tucked stray strands of hair behind Avalyn’s right ear.
“So what will you name her?” his voice was soft. “Our daughter, I mean.”
Somewhat startled, she turned to look at him, seeing how close he was. With a smile, she turned back to the child, now blowing bubbles in the water.
“She looks rather like the lady of the lake, don’t you think?” she replied. “A water nymph from King Arthur’s realm.”
Brogan had heard the story of the Saxon king from those long centuries ago. “So you plan to name her Lady of the Lake?”
Avalyn laughed softly, dodging the suds that came flying at her. They missed her completely and hit Brogan in the cheek when he swiftly turned his face to avoid being hit in the eye. Avalyn laughed again as he wiped the froth off his skin.
“Nay, not Lady of the Lake. But I do like… Lake,” she said softly, watching the child frolic. “Lake du Brant d’Aurilliac.”
Brogan took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her to face him. His deep blue eyes were intense. “Does this mean that you accept my proposal?”
Gazing into his marvelous face, she could only think of one reply. She was bewitched, mayhap foolish, but at the moment she did not care. She was giddy with feelings for the man, for the life that loomed in front of them. Perhaps it was a fool’s dream, but it was a dream nonetheless and she wanted to live it. No politics, no kingmaker, and no Aubrey.
“Aye,” she whispered. “I will be your wife.”
Brogan’s mouth slanted over her with such passion that she toppled backwards, into his arms as his lips ravished her thoroughly. His massive arms were around her, his hands caressing and powerful and delightful. The only thing that existed at that very moment was the two of them, feeling the heat of desire soar like an arrow shot in to the sun. They would have probed deeper, tasted more, had little Lake not suddenly yelled at them.
“It’s cold!” she squawked. “I’m cold!”
Brogan tore his mouth away from Avalyn and they both looked at the child, now as bright and clean and shiny as a new coin. She was spectacularly beautiful with her bottomless blue eyes and blond hair. But he still held Avalyn in his arms tightly, just a moment longer, unwilling to let her go.
“Lake d’Aurilliac,” he repeated, nuzzling her neck. “It’s perfect for her.”
“Do you really like it?”
“I do.”
Avalyn sat up, her golden eyes boring into him, suddenly very serious. “’Tis a big step for a man to take on both a wife and child, Brogan. Are you sure that you do not want to…?”
He cut her off with a deep kiss, lingering on her sweet lips, suckling the flesh until she gasped softly. “I cannot recall a duty I would take on more willingly or more happily,” he said. “You cannot know how much this means to me, Avalyn. I do not have the words to describe what is in my heart at the moment. I feel… alive. So very alive.”
“I’m cold!” Lake growled again. “I want out!”
Tender moment harshly interrupted, Avalyn laughed softly and collected the big piece of linen that the innkeeper had left for them, handing it to Brogan to hold out as she picked up the slippery baby and plopped her inside the material. Broganwrapped it around the child and began gently, vigorously, drying her little body.
Now it was Avalyn’s turn to watch him interact with the little girl. He’d been standoffish from the onset, but now, some of his defenses were down and his manner was most gentle. Little Lake grunted and squealed as he dried her off and finally wrapped her so tightly she could barely move. Even her head was covered, the only thing visible being her sweet little face. Brogan’s eyes twinkled as he held the child out to Avalyn like a precious offering.
Avalyn smiled at him; his expression was so warm that she could not help but react in kind.I feel alive.Odd how she could see it in his eyes; the Brogan she had met the day before did not have that warm glisten to his expression. It was something only recently acquired. It made her feel alive, too.
“Hold her, Brogan,” she said softly. “The innkeeper has not brought any clothes yet and I’m afraid she’ll catch cold.”
Obediently, he put his enormous arms around the little girl, holding her tightly to his chest. Lake yawned, smiling timidly at him, and Avalyn watched him smile back. No reserve, no hesitation. Whatever fearsome and horrible reputation the man had, one would have never guessed it the way he handled the child. He looked like any normal, doting, loving father. Avalyn’s heart melted just a little more.
