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“Oh,” he repeats, continuing to stare.
“Are you daft?” Alesoun says, lightly slapping his arm. “Say something more, man.”
He swallows, shakes his head, then swallows again.
“I did nae think there could be anything in the world more beautiful than you, Quinn,” he says, lowering himself next to the bed. “But I was wrong.”
Tears of joy threaten but I blink them away, nodding. I’ll not argue his point; she is perfect.
“You’re not disappointed it’s not a boy?”
“Disappointed?” he asks in clear disbelief. “How could I… no.” He shakes his head. “Never.”
I smile, exhaustion creeping in now the labors are over. My eyes drift out of focus, and I shift on the bed to get more comfortable. Duncan tries to help and I’m sure he does, but I’m too tired to really think about it. He crawls onto the bed next to us and I shift until my head is on his chest and I and our daughter fall asleep protected by him.
“What will you name her?” Dugald asks, startling me awake.
The baby fusses for only a moment, then I flush as I realize my breast is bare under his gaze. Dugald isn’t looking though; he’s staring at the wall over my head, clearly giving me all the respect he can.
“Dugald,” I say, shaking my head. “When did you come?”
“A moment ago,” he says. “What will you name her?”
I move her to the other side and get my breast covered again before turning my attention to him.
“We haven’t decided,” I say.
“You have,” Dugald says, meeting my eyes. “He hasn’t agreed perhaps, but you have.”
I smile and shake my head.
“There are two of us and we will decide together,” I say.
“Decide?” Duncan asks sleepily. “Hmm?”
His eyes flutter open, then he sees Dugald, and he snaps awake, jumping to his feet.
“You’ve no right to be invading our privacy,” Duncan says, marching towards Dugald.
Dugald raises his hands and takes a step back.
“Peace, MacGregor,” he says. “I am not here to fight.”
“Duncan, it’s okay,” I say. “He’s family too, to our daughter.”
Dugald shrugs and Duncan stares him down for a long moment, then returns to my side on the bed.
“Are you going to ask him?” Dugald asks.
“Ask me what?” Duncan asks.
“He wants to know our daughter’s name.”
“Why?” Duncan demands. “You’ll nae be making any Fae deals with her.”
“No,” Dugald says, “I won’t. But I would be a mentor if you’ll allow. An, hmm, an uncle if you will.”
Duncan tenses, but before he can make a remark, I put my hand on his leg and he stops himself.
