Page 45 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“I look at Sanne and Paul. They are so happy, Daddy. I cannot harm them with this ugly news. Okay? We need to wait.”

“Fair, fair. God, Paul is the proudest father.”

“Reminds me of Uncle Duncan when Nora was born. It’s precious. I am so happy for them, even if I am hurting.”

“Go out there, hold the baby, cry later,” Robbie said. “Trust me when I say it will get easier. But it will probably always hurt like a bitch at first.”

Natalie nodded and took her drink to the living room. She brought her mother’s too. Her mother now held Baby Keir in her arms. He was snuggled tight like a burrito, sucking away on a dummy. Natalie sat the drink down.

“An old fashion, as demanded. Dad made me one, too.”

“Thanks, honey,” Vanna said.

The baby opened his big blue eyes and looked up. Natalie couldn’t feel anything but good feelings. It still hurt like a bitch, as Robbie said, but how could you be upset with a face like that?

“Take him. Give my arms a break,” Vanna insisted.

She wasn’t being honest. She could have held the baby for days but everyone wanted Natalie to try.

“Well, okay, if no one is fighting me for him,” Natalie finally agreed.

She gingerly picked up the baby. Ed gave up his seat so she could sit.

“He’s Paul’s mini,” Natalie said. “Baby K, you are your father’s spitting image.”

“Unfair,” Sanne sighed. “Totally unfair.”

“I would agree with that. Paul was the only proof I contributed half of the genetic material to these four,” Vanna joked. “The twins are like two sides of the same coin. And the coin is Robert.”

“The Lyons genes are strong as hell,” Duncan chuckled. “He’s a big baby. Like his father, I suppose. Paul, you were a hell-raiser.”

“He was bloody adorable and downright exhausting,” Robbie returned.

He handed Sanne a drink.

“Oh, see, look at this. First-star service. But I get nothing, Dad?”

“Make your own beverage. You’ve done nothing all day. Your Mum and Uncle Duncan have shouldered this burden,” Robbie chuckled.

Sanne and Natalie snickered.

“You always gotta take the piss,” Paul sighed.

“Get used to it. He’ll be as relentless as you were, my son,” Robbie said. “From two until seven, you were a walking middle finger. Welcome to parenthood.”

“I’m going to die if this baby doesn’t exit my body today,” Lucy whinged.

“Luce, it will happen. He’s not even due for another week.”

“I know, I know. But Jesus this time has been worse. So much worse, Tony.”

Lucy was tired. She and Winston were in bed following what could hardly be called a rousing lovemaking session. If they would get a badge for said sex, it would have said, “I tried.”

That was sex at the end of one’s pregnancy. Lucy was, again, mercilessly horny. She was also bored out of her gourd. Winston was busy building a new animal sanctuary on the edge of the family estate while Lucy was unable to go far. She would soon be tied down with two under two in a castle and in a place where she knew no one. The only person she knew at this point was one of the board members—Rose Worthington-Benton—an English transplant who had married a prominent local barrister. She was a society darling who wanted to introduce Lucy to all the ladies in Edinburgh—The Ladies Who Lunched. Lucy felt unattractive and miserable, so it wasn’t going well.

This pregnancy kicked Lucy’s arse. It was better than Malcolm’s, fortunately.

Winston cupped Lucy’s face and kissed her slowly. “I wish I could stay in all day with you. Unfortunately, there will be a riot downstairs if we do so.”

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