“Malcolm and Viola will be too busy cooing over their new babe tae even notice your presence here,” he continued. “In fact—”
He cut off at the sound of heavy feet on the stairs.
Malcolm entered the parlor, a tiny bundle cradled against his chest. His joyful smile spoke volumes of hope, love, and happiness. “Ethan, Lady Allegra, would ye like tae greet my son?”
“A son?” Ethan jumped to his feet and instantly crossed to his brother. “Congratulations! I trust Viola is well?”
“Aye,” Malcolm’s voice went hoarse again. “My wife is a goddess among women.”
“And this one?” Ethan peeled back the blanket to look at the babe. “Och, he’s abrawlad, Malcolm. Viola, bless her, ensured the boy avoided your ugly mug.”
“Aye,” Malcolm agreed far too cheerfully. “As I said, my wife is a goddess. Here, ye should give your new nephew a wee cuddle.”
Malcolm gently shifted the small bundle into Ethan’s arms.
With a soft smile on his face, Ethan carefully held the babe to his torso, slowly swaying. Allie caught a glimpse of the babe’s bald head and adorable tiny nose.
Uffa.
Allie’s heart had not been properly prepared for this sight. To witness Ethan Penn-Leith tenderly rocking a newborn. The quiet trill of a lullaby on his lips. The cords of his forearms flexing as he lifted the bundle to press a kiss to his nephew’s forehead.
It was the stuff of every maiden’s fantasies. If Allie could somehow bottle and sell this moment, she would have no more worries about her future.
Ethan paced over to the bow window that faced the front drive, studying the baby in the daylight.
“He’s bonnie,” Ethan said, eyes soft and looking back to Malcolm. “Ye be the luckiest of men.”
“Aye.” Malcolm crossed to his brother.
“Have Viola and yourself decided on a name?”
“Robert,” Malcolm replied, “but I am sure we will call him Robbie.”
“A sound Scottish name.”
The brothers bent their heads over the babe. A wee fist escaped the swaddling, waving in the air until Ethan offered a finger for it to grasp.
Malcolm said something too low for Allie to hear.
Ethan chuckled.
It rushed over Allie then.
An unexpected tidal wave ofadorationdevotiondesireyearningthat robbed her of breath and threatened to drown her.
Madonna mia.
No.
No!
She was in love with Ethan Penn-Leith.
Wildly, madly, headlong in love.
So in love, the force of the emotion filled her lungs, stinging her eyes and choking her throat in an attempt to escape. It frothed and foamed under her sternum, expanding outward until she feared it would overfill the room if loosed.
The space of that love stretched vast within her. Fathomless. As if she could spend a lifetime exploring it and never reach its end.
