Page 70 of Everything But the Earl
“He’s asleep in here.” She pointed to the door.
“Can I see him?”
“Of course.” She held a finger up to her lips and opened the door.
She felt terrible, like she’d swallowed a rock and it was sitting in her stomach. Owen deserved to know about his son, and sooner than now. Her excuse, that he’d been busy with Parliament, felt weak now. If only she’d gotten that letter in the mail the day she wrote it! Likely Owen would not have made it to Wales sooner, since the baby had come early, but at least she wouldn’t be surprising him like this.
Once the shock wore off, he would be upset with her, and she would have to live with that.
He followed her over to the crib, which she’d had the staff put at the foot of the bed. She’d slept in here with Dafydd the first few nights after his birth, but then she’d worried that if she made noise in the night she would wake him, so she moved to Owen’s bed in the adjacent room but left the connecting doors open so that she couldhear Dafydd if he cried.
Their son was asleep, but his lips were pursed and he made a sucking motion.
Owen looked into the crib and stood perfectly still for a long moment, just staring.
Grace couldn’t tell if there was much family resemblance. Dafydd had a head of dark hair and a chin dimple like Owen’s, but otherwise he mostly looked like a baby to Grace. Hewasbeautiful, though, and he washersand she was fiercely protective of him, to the point where everyone thought she was mad.
“My son,” Owen whispered.
“Dafydd Gruffud.”
Owen put a hand over his mouth. “That is perfect.”
By Grace’s calculation, Dafydd had been asleep for nearly three hours and was about due to wake up, but she didn’t want to disturb him. Catrin’s advice had been to rest whenever the baby was resting, which had been sound so far.
But, perhaps sensing his parents were staring at him, Dafydd stirred.
Remarkably, he did not cry. He looked up at Grace and moved his arms around. She wondered what he was thinking, if his little baby brain even understood.
She reached into the crib and scooped him up.
“Hello, baby,” she said to him. She rocked him in his arms a little. “Do you want to meet your papa?” She looked up at Owen. “Do you want to hold him?”
“Can I? I’ve never held a baby before.”
“A lot of it comes by instinct. Just make sure you hold his head carefully. Like this.” She held up Dafydd to show Owen how to hold him.
Owen held his arms out, so Grace placed the baby in them.
Dafydd just stared at his father for a long moment.
“I can’t believe it,” Owen said.
“He’s very handsome, don’t you think? Just like his papa.”
“Yes. A very handsome boy. And everything is all right with him? He has all his fingers and toes?”
“Yes. He’s perfect, Owen. That is, he does not do much at this stage of life. He mostly cries, sleeps, eats, and fills his nappies. But every day I look at him and I’m amazed.”
As if understanding that he was not fulfilling his assignment, Dafydd began to cry.
“What do I do?” Owen asked.
Grace took the baby back. She rocked and soothed him and he began to calm back down.
“Did you just need your mum?” she asked Dafydd.
“Is there a nurse? Or a nanny?” Owen asked.
