He nodded, then climbed off the floor as Sorcha moved to sit upright, offering me half of the settee. The door snicked shut behind Tom, leaving a vacuum.
I settled beside Sorcha, one knee tucked under my leg to face her. She mirrored my position as best she could in her present state.
She swallowed, and her tongue darted between her lips to wet them before she spoke. “I need to ask ye something.”
“Yes?”
“This babe. I need him to be yers.”
“What?”
“I need ye to claim him, raise him as yer own.”
“But—”
“What my pa did for me… It gave me a life, kept me from shame. I need ye to do that for this babe.”
Comprehension dawned and I felt my hands rise to begin a defense. “Sorcha, I?—”
“A man’s trueborn son or daughter, even if there are raised brows, has a far better life than a bastard with no father.”
I could feel my chest tightening, knotting. “I intended to raise the child as a ward. Would that not suffice?”
“Ye did?”
“Of course I did. What did you think I meant when I suggested you both live here?”
One hand spilled in front of her, splaying out, palm open. The gesture was one of mine that she either came by innately or learned in recent weeks. Though the habit was irritating on myself, it was charming on her. “I didnae know. I thought ye might like to run a halfway house for fallen nieces.”
“Sorcha, if I find a way to claim this child, and I’m not saying it’s even possible, but it would be final. I couldn’t undo it. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you would be a mere cousin—to your own babe.”
“It’s not as though I wouldnae see the babe. That ye wouldnae let me care for it.”
“And that would be enough? To help raise a child, your child, but never hear them call you mother?”
“Xander, please. I cannae marry him—he was a liar and unkind. But neither can I imagine…” She broke off with a sigh, shaking her head before forging on.
“The greatest gift my ma ever gave me was marrying my pa. I had a name and a home. No one looked down on me or shunned me. And a babe could have a good life as yer ward. I know that. But I cannae give them a father’s name. You could though.”
“You’ve been considering this for quite some time, haven’t you?”
“Once I learned that yer not so wretched. Yes. The babe wouldnae have to inherit anything.” Her eyes were so wide and earnest.
“That’s not the way of things, I’m afraid. Firstborn sons inherit, no loopholes. And any child of mine, son or daughter, would be well cared for.”
“Oh, I see.” Her face fell, gaze finding the floorboards.
“I didn’t mean— I wouldn’t object to a child, your child inheriting. I just meant that it’s not how inheritances are managed.”
“So you would…”
“Consider it,” I finished for her. “I would consider it. Give me time to think?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Was that all you wished to discuss?”
“Aye.”
