Blood of Quartz

Chapter 26

Mouse woke up not long after that, and a maid was sent to get her some milk. Abigail walked the perimeter of the room, calming her as best she could, but it was evident the baby was hungry and quite vocally telling everyone who would listen. She stopped when Erik stepped in front of her, his tall frame blocking her view of the rest of the room. She looked up, his eyes on her, and she swore the temperature in the room rose. His body, so close to hers, pulled her in as if she was on a string, he the winder.

"Here. Give her to me."

She handed Mouse over, who immediately went calm, looking up into Erik's face. He cupped her head and bottom the way he had before, swinging her gently.

"How do you do that? It is so easy for you."

"One of my uncles taught me, many years ago, when I was at their home and their newest child was crying. He had to go and get something out of the larder, so he handed me the child, showed me what to do and said 'get on with it'. Since it worked, I was considered to have good hands for babies, and no matter the occasion, I was inundated with them at gatherings. I didn't mind. Children are a gift, I suppose."

Mouse was temporarily hushed, as she swung gently in his arms. They stood, close together, him calming the baby, her hand on his arm, watching Mouse. It felt somehow comfortable, even though she was very aware of him beside her. Mouse trusting this man in the way she did gave Abigail hope that she could get past the confusing way he made her feel, the urge to have him touch her overwhelming at times, and they could become good friends.

"She is beautiful," he murmured, and she looked up and smiled as he let her grasp his finger and stick the tip into her mouth, gumming it with all abandon.

"Isn't she? I think she will look like her mother. She has her eyes."

They shared a look and she again wanted to reach out and touch his face, the way she had that night, looking at the stars. He blinked and the moment was gone.

Abigail noticed the King's crest etched on the bodice of the leathers he was wearing. Kingsman black suited his dark hair and blue eyes, giving him an even more dashing look than before. He smelled pleasantly of juniper, likely from what the leather was packed in, and it was pleasant.

"So, are you to ride tomorrow?" she asked, remembering his disdain for Firestorm suddenly.

"I have requested to drive a wagon," he chuckled, and a smirk lifted one corner of his mouth. "Firestorm will stay here, and I have no desire to mount up, as poor a rider as I am."

"Surely you will have to learn, now that you are to be a Kingsman."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," he muttered. He spied a chair near the fire and went to sit, and Abigail joined him, sitting on the hearth. Their knees met and she leaned over Mouse, who was still quite happily gumming Erik's finger.

A maid came with the bowl of milk and the clean linen they used to get her to nurse, and Abigail set to the task of dipping the cloth into the milk, and having her suck the milk out of it. Mouse was hungry, and fussing. Oh how she wished Cerla could come with them!

"She'll be on solid food soon enough," Erik murmured and adjusted her into the crook of his arm. "Have you thought about getting some gut tied to fill with milk so she can nurse from that?"

"An excellent idea," she admitted, as Mouse pushed the cloth away and bleated, obviously telling her she was not fast enough. "This can be tedious, and she is very hungry at times."

"We've done it for the orphan and runt piglets that come into the house in early spring. It isn't easy getting them to eat, and they must or they'll die. So we use cow gut, and poke a few holes in the bottom of a sack we make from it, and when it fills with milk, it looks rather like a nipple to the wee things."