Chapter Six #4
Now it was Avalyn’s turn to watch him interact with the little girl.
He’d been standoffish from the onset, but now, some of his defenses were down and his manner was most gentle.
Little Lake grunted and squealed as he dried her off and finally wrapped her so tightly she could barely move.
Even her head was covered, the only thing visible being her sweet little face.
Brogan’s eyes twinkled as he held the child out to Avalyn like a precious offering.
Avalyn smiled at him; his expression was so warm that she could not help but react in kind.
I feel alive. Odd how she could see it in his eyes; the Brogan she had met the day before did not have that warm glisten to his expression.
It was something only recently acquired. It made her feel alive, too.
“Hold her, Brogan,” she said softly. “The innkeeper has not brought any clothes yet and I’m afraid she’ll catch cold.”
Obediently, he put his enormous arms around the little girl, holding her tightly to his chest. Lake yawned, smiling timidly at him, and Avalyn watched him smile back.
No reserve, no hesitation. Whatever fearsome and horrible reputation the man had, one would have never guessed it the way he handled the child.
He looked like any normal, doting, loving father.
Avalyn’s heart melted just a little more.
The skinny boy mounted the steps to the loft, holding out a bundle of clothing in his thin hands.
Avalyn thanked him as she took them, shaking out each piece to see what, exactly, she had.
A heavy woolen shirt, a thin linen shirt that looked as if it had been cut off mid-waist, and a pair of badly mended hose.
They were remotely clean and in somewhat good condition for the most part.
It wasn’t much, but it would cover her and keep her warm.
Brogan set the baby to her feet as Avalyn went to work dressing her.
Lake didn’t like the hose and fought them, but Avalyn spoke softly and kindly and the little girl finally left them on.
But she had no shoes and Avalyn once again bade Brogan to carry her.
He did so without reserve. In fact, drying her after her bath had broken down whatever hesitation he still held, and now he seemed quite determined to tend her.
Avalyn didn’t say a word; she just let him.
For a man who had so recently lost his son, she suspected that tiny little Lake was exactly what he needed, whether or not he had realized it.
Not that she was a replacement by any means, but there was still a wound she could ably ease.
Avalyn paid the innkeeper more than the man probably made in a month.
His bulbous eyes widened at the gold coins and he couldn’t seem to bow swiftly enough or grovel more deeply enough.
But he deserved the tribute for being so helpful, and when they quit the inn and emerged into the chill night air, little Lake was quite clean, warm and happy clutched in Brogan’s massive arms. And Brogan was quite thrilled to have her.
“Now,” Avalyn paused before they went along their way. “We need to figure out what we’re to do.”
“We are to get married,” Brogan reminded her.
She smiled faintly. “I know, my angel, but not right at this moment. I must return to the Tower and collect some things, as I suspect you must also.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “Can you take Lake to your mother? Perhaps she can tend her while we make our final preparations.”
Brogan looked at the little girl, who stared back at him with her sleepy big blue eyes. “My mother will fall in love with this child,” he said. “We’ll be lucky to get her back.”
Avalyn’s grin broadened. “’Tis a chance we will have to take. She cannot return with you, and I would prefer not to take her with me. It would only create an entirely new series of questions and complications.”
“It is not the same as if you were bringing a stray dog home.”
“Exactly.”
They exchanged knowing glances. So much more was at stake than simply bringing home an orphaned child.
The time they had spent together this evening had been pure, peaceful bliss, nothing like the real world that awaited them.
He almost wished that they could stay and blend in with the peasants and merchants.
But that was not the life he wanted for Avalyn, or Lake, for that matter.
His gaze lingered on Avalyn before he reached out and pulled her to him.
His handsome, powerful face loomed above her delicate features.
“A new life for us, Avalyn,” he muttered.
“I cannot promise you wealth you are accustomed to and I cannot even promise that our lives will be easy, but I swear to you that I will work harder than a man has ever worked to be the best husband that I can be. And I swear that I will love you until I die.”
She smiled up at him, feeling pangs of doubt, of excitement, of fear. She, more than him, knew the tribulations that faced them. She reached up and touched his face.
“Oh, Brogan,” she murmured. “I’m so afraid of what will happen.
But I also know that I cannot lose you. My entire life has been dedicated to duty and politics, and I always understood what was expected of me.
I do not know how, over the past two days, I seem to have lost all sense of duty.
But more than that, I simply do not care.
All that matters is you, and now little Lake.
I see a life I never knew to exist spread out before me and it outshines all other life I thought to have. ”
He kissed her, tenderly at first, but with growing intensity.
She was sweet, delicious, and hot, and he drank her in as a man would if dying of thirst. He’d never experienced this kind of passion in his life and had no idea how to bank it; all he knew was that it came spilling out and he wanted to experience it.
He needed to. In his ardor, he bent forward and Lake let out a little shriek, ending up with her little arms braced against Avalyn’s shoulders so that she would not fall.
The grown-ups laughed at her as Avalyn took her in her arms and kissed her clean little cheek.
Brogan, not to be left out, kissed the other one.
The little girl put her hands to her cheeks and giggled.
“Poupée,” Avalyn ran her hand over the drying blond hair. “Would you like to come home with me?”
Big blue eyes blinked at her. “Home?”
“She does not understand what you mean,” Brogan said softly, noting the blank expression on the child’s face. “Let me try.”
Avalyn fought off a smile; apparently, he was determined to show off his skill communicating with children. “By all means.”
Brogan focused on the girl. “Do you want to be my child and have food and clothing and warmth for the rest of your life, or do you want to go back and live with those children that beat you?”
Avalyn lifted an eyebrow; his question was clear, if not blunt. Little Lake stared back at him; one could almost literally see the thoughts rolling through the child’s mind. But she could not reply, having no idea what he really said, so Avalyn stepped in again.
“I want to be your Mummy,” she said, as plainly as she could. “Can I be your Mummy?”
The little girl finally understood. “You will be my Mummy?”
“Aye,” Avalyn nodded. “Would you like that?”
She smiled, a sweet little smile with, surprisingly, tiny white teeth. “Aye, Mummy.”
“And he will be your Da,” Avalyn indicated Brogan. “Would you like that, too?”
The baby just nodded. She probably didn’t truly understand what they were asking her, but she understood enough. Avalyn didn’t care at that point; she was going to keep this sweet, adorable child in any case. God help the man who tried to wrest her from her.
“We will call you Lake,” Avalyn stroked the little blond head. “It is a very beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Brogan whispered her name in her ear, kissing the little cheek again until Lake giggled because his stubble was scratching her.
Avalyn watched the two of them a moment, seeing such joy in their faces.
The little girl who had nothing and the man who had lost everything.
She didn’t know if her heart could be any fuller than it was.
But the joy of the night was tempered by the reality of their situation. Avalyn was anxious to get Lake to Mama Starke’s so that she and Brogan could complete their business.
“We should get her to your mother’s,” Avalyn said. “We will not have the luxury of time much longer and we still need to return to the Tower.”
The hour was exceedingly late as they commenced their walk to Brogan’s mother’s shop.
Most of the people that had bustled on the street earlier in the night had disappeared, leaving the avenue dark and deserted.
Now was the time when the thieves and murders emerged in earnest and Brogan was highly alert as they made their way back along East street.
By now, the baby had fallen asleep and he held her securely in one arm while holding Avalyn in the other.
“Do you have a plan, Brogan?” Avalyn asked softly as they passed down the dark avenue. “Whatever it is, it must be solid. When dealing with de Neville, you cannot leave things to chance.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “My plan is to marry you,” he said quietly. “I am afraid I am not good at planning. I usually follow commands, not make them.”
Avalyn gazed up at him; he was a proud, strong man. She was afraid her question had upset him. “I did not mean to offend you, my angel,” she said softly. “I simply meant to know if you’ve figured out what we should do.”
“You are the wiser in that regard, Avalyn. I would trust my future wife with our plans to be wed and flee her uncle.”