“I suppose.” Ross downed the drink, thumped the glass onto the dresser, then raked both hands through his hair. “If anything goes wrong—”
“Your Grace!” Nettie snapped. “Remember what Her Grace told you. Do not invite the bad into your presence by speaking or thinking of it. Concentrate on the good only. She is a wise woman, the duchess. Even the villagers feel she has put theRamthwaite Curse to rest and brought the lands long-awaited joy.”
“She is my heart.” Ross went to the connecting door, placed his hand upon it, and bowed his head. “Protect her and the babe, I beg you,” he prayed.
Leopold joined him, purring so loudly that the air almost vibrated with the sound.
A baby’s enraged cry pealed through the rooms like the ringing of a joyous bell. Ross’s heart leapt, and he whirled to face Edgar and Nettie. “A strong cry. Hear it? A strong, healthy cry.”
Both the ghosts glowed a brighter white, joined hands, and spun in a circle.
“Congratulations, Your Grace,” Edgar called out.
“I wonder if we have a little lord or a little lady?” Nettie said while still bouncing a happy jig.
“I must see them.” Ross started for the door, but Leopold puffed up and hissed, blocking his way. “What the devil is wrong with you, old boy?” he asked the cat.
“You must wait, Your Grace,” Nettie said as she swooped in to join the cat in front of the door. “They will come and get you once they get Her Grace and the baby settled.”
Something about the shift in the color of Nettie’s ghostly form sparked a return of Ross’s fear and dread. “Are you saying something is wrong? This is what my grandfather went through when my father was born, wasn’t it? Is history repeating itself? Is it?”
“Your Grace.” Edgar stepped in, bumping Nettie aside with an apologetic tip of his head. “Only think of the good, remember? When you were born, it took some time for your mother to be ready to see your father. Bringing life into this world is no easy matter. A woman’s strength is most admirable and much greater than they are given credit for.”
“Why has the babe stopped crying?” Ross stepped through Nettie and the cat and pressed both hands on the door, battling the urge to kick it down and barge in to see about his wife and child.
“They do not cry constantly, Your Grace,” Edgar said, hovering closer. “Do they, Nettie?” The uncertainty in the butler’s voice was not consoling.
“Of course not.” Nettie bumped him aside and materialized enough to rest her hand on Ross’s, sending an eerie chill through him. “If they have swaddled the mite and tucked it in close to Her Grace, the child will be most happy and not cry.”
The door opened, and Ross nearly fell forward and crashed into Effie.
She laughed as she caught hold of his arm and steadied him. “Have a care, Yer Grace. Dinna fall and hurt yerself. Yer wife and wee lassie are eager to see ye.”
“Wee lassie,” he repeated, rushing into the room to find Harmony propped among a multitude of pillows with a tiny bundle in her arms. Relief, joy, and an overwhelming sense of awe battled for control of him as he reached the side of the bed and gazed down at the little wonder peering up at him.
“We have a daughter?” he asked with quiet reverence.
“Aye, my love,” Harmony answered, sounding weary but happy. She patted the spot beside her. “Sit with us. I am sure she is anxious to meet her da. After all, ye have sung to her all these many months.”
“I do not wish to cause you pain by jostling you.” He touched her cheek and lost himself in her blue-eyed gaze. “I was so afraid for you. So afraid—”
“Shh…” She pressed a finger across his lips. “I am fine, and so is our daughter. Be thankful and joyous and sit with us.” She arched a brow. “Ye willna cause me near the pain wee Elizabeth did—I grant ye that.”
He settled next to her. An overwhelming thankfulness filled him as he touched the babe’s velvety cheek. “Elizabeth. I like that.” He cupped her tiny head in his palm. “So small yet so perfect. And she has your blue eyes.”
“Most new ones have eyes that shade. We shall see if they change.” Harmony handed him his daughter. “Mind her head and neck. Dinna let her bobble.”
The infant squirmed and grunted, making him hold her as gingerly as if she were made of the most fragile porcelain.
Harmony laughed and nudged him. “Relax and cradle her close. She needs to feel yer warmth and get a good whiff of her da’s scent. Bairns are like wee beasties, getting to know us first by our smell.”
“How do you know so much about babies?” he whispered as he kissed his daughter’s forehead.
“I come from a large family, remember?” She leaned back, nestling deeper into the pillows. “Ye are not disappointed, are ye?”
Her question shocked him. “Disappointed? Why on earth would I be disappointed?” He shook his head in wonderment, unable to take his eyes off his precious daughter. “The love of my life is alive and well and just gifted me with a priceless treasure—a perfect, healthy child.”
“Aye, but I know ye wanted a son.”
