Page 43
The lad shifted when Maardok chuckled. “Nay, I meant Ewan’s brother.”
Flustered, I dropped my gaze to the tiny green face. “In my world, the father names the babe.”
I was speaking too fast, trying to cover my embarrassment. “Richard named Ewan, although I do not know why he chose the name.”
To my surprise, Maardok snorted.
“Why would the sire make the decision? The mother is the one who does all the work.”
I peeked up at him. “I suppose you are right.”
“In my world, the father can make suggestions, but the power in a bairn’s name rests with the mother.”
Still…
“Do you wish to name him?”
Something flickered across his scarred face, as his eyes flared with that green glow.
“Because I am his father?”
“Because you love him.”
Maardok sucked in a breath and startled me—and Ewan, judging from his squeak—when he dropped to one knee beside me and wrapped his free arm around my shoulder, dragging me and the babe both against his chest.
We sat like that for a long moment, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and a strange humming in his chest, before I finally felt him take a long, shuddering breath.
“I can make a suggestion, dkaar. Name him after his mother. Ye.”
I smirked. “Cataline is a strange name for a lad.”
He pressed his lips to my forehead. “My firebrand. Edan means little fire.”
Ewan lifted his face, his eyes bright, the worry of the sea clearly forgotten. “Edan sounds like Ewan! We sound like brothers.”
He was right. I smiled gently at all the males who lived in my heart. “Edan, then. ‘Twill be confusing, with two names so similar.”
Maardok kissed me again, the humming from his chest even louder. “You could choose to name him for a male in yer past. Yer husband or yer father?”
Nay. There was no one I would honor like that, not when the best male I knew knelt at my side.
You love him.
How could I not? My eyes filled with tears as I studied his scarred face.
I was afraid of what the future would bring, and if we could be happy in his village, and if John would come after us, and why. But I knew I would be safe and happy in Maardok’s arms.
“Edan,” I whispered again. “Thank you for giving him to me.”
“Och, dkaar…” His voice cracked. “Thank ye for—”
He swallowed, then shook his head and leaned down to peer at his son.
“Edan. Our little firebrand. Stubborn and strong just like his mother.”
“And me!” Ewan announced. “I’m going to teach him to ride a horse!”
I shared a soft smile with the male at my side, and we spent the rest of the short sea journey listening to the five-year-old list the ways in which he would be the best big brother in the world.
