“Well, I cannot,” she insisted. “He will get ink everywhere!”
“But, I do not know how to play with a babe,” he tried, hoping she would take pity on him.
He should have known better. She reached for a fresh parchment. “You are his father. You will think of something. Now, what do you wish me to start with?”
“I wish to start with you showing me how to play with him. You do remember that I have been away for two years, aye?”
“’Tis difficult to forget, my lord. Though I wish I could.”
She hated that he’d left his son. Doing so made him as bad as those who had left him. She didn’t understand. He didn’t expect her to.
“So, what do I do?”
“Try this,” she said, and held her hands over her eyes. “Elias?” she called out then held her hands away from her eyes and smiled at him. “I see you!”
As if she released some sort of magic to the air, Elias laughed and hid his face in the bedding. She did it again and the babe laughed even harder.
Nicholas thought it was the most profoundly moving sound he’d ever heard, the most gloriously beautiful sight his eyes had ever witnessed. It was a purely infectious event, making him laugh harder than he had in years. Many years. He watched, letting his gaze also revel in the sight of Julianna playing and laughing with his son.
He thought he would give it a try and before he knew it, he was on the ground and Elias was climbing on top of him and squealing with laughter when Nicholas tickled him.
The afternoon passed by with songs and silliness and no writing at all. Rauf came by with some food and drink for supper, which they ate on the floor of the chamber, picnic style.
“He eats well for one so young,” she remarked while Elias chewed some bread slathered in sweet butter. “Thanks to the village women helping to teach him.”
“Aye, I must find a way to show them my gratitude. What do you suggest?”
“Hmm, let me think,” she replied, smiling. “You could have a celebration to honor them. Food, wine, music and dancing.”
He scowled and shook his head. “I do not like that sort of thing. Too many people coming and going.”
“What is so bad about that?”
“I like quiet.”
“Well,” she said, tossing him a pitiful look, “you are not going to get it with a two year old around.”
“Papa, shoe!”
Nicholas looked down to see his son trying to fit his foot into his father’s discarded boot.
“Did you hear that?” Nicholas asked, nearly bolting to his feet. “He said papa! On his own! Without you telling him!”
Her smile softened and warmed on him. “That is what you are, my lord, his papa.”
“Aye.” Nodding, because he could not say more without risking choking on his strangled cries, he mussed his son’s hair and kissed the top of his head. Darkness fell early so they let Elias stay up and play for a little while longer.
When the babe grew tired, Nicholas picked him up and put him on his bed. “I will carry him to his bed later. For now, let him sleep while you write.”
She rose from the floor and patted her breeches then cleaned up.
“I do not know if he will sleep with us both in the room,” she let him know.
“He will if we lie down with him,” he suggested and then set the boy down gently on the bed. He kissed Elias’ head again and laid down next to him. “Come, Julianna.” He held out his hand and waited for her. “Forget the letters. Lie on the other side of him.”
She came shyly and climbed up onto the bed. Elias smiled when she grew close and closed his eyes. They whispered and smiled and kissed the babe’s hands.
Nicholas didn’t know why the sight of her lying with his child made his heart swell up with dreaded emotion. When Mattie died, he was tortured by the fact that his son would never have his true mother. Just as Nicholas had never had his.
