Page 117 of The English Queen

“I know.” Beth’s tears welled. “She’s precious. She’s a very good baby.”

“You honoured me with the name. I didn’t deserve it,” Maggie insisted, putting her pinkie finger into the baby’s fist.

Margie wrapped her fat little pink fingers around her grandmother’s bigger one. It was such a pleasure to do that. Louis did it all the time.

“It wasn’t my suggestion. It was Louis’s, but I agreed. We call her Margie. She doesn’t care what you call her as long as you feed her.”

“Well, I am honoured.” Maggie’s tears welled. “Oh, Beth, she looks so much like you.”

“I thought she looked like Louis, but she has started to look more like me,” Beth agreed.

Louis chuckled. “She has always been all you. Lucky to have such a pretty mother. She will be well-served by it.”

“She is a good eater?” Maggie asked.

“Dynamite,” Louis replied. “But a bit hangry at times.”

“I just fed her. So, she’s content.”

“The first Queen Regnant in Belgium’s history?” Maggie asked. “And to have my name.”

“The first Queen Regnant and with a French name,” Louis said. “We pull no punches.”

“I thought for sure she was a boy. But she’s all girl.”

“We were happy to hear it. Well, Beth was stunned, but I was so happy she was here. She is something special.”

“I’d say. Cheeks for days there,” Keir said. “She’s a bonny wee lass, Bethany.”

“Does she sleep?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, she does but only because we have help. The nurse came with us. She brings her to me. I do a feed, and then I roll over and go back to sleep. I’m hoping to express some milk so I can sleep straight through soon. I seem to have a decent supply, but it hurts like hell at present.”

“It will. Bag balm. It works on a woman as it does a mare. We are not so different.”

“It does, yes,” Vanna added. “Oh, the pain. I remember it well.”

“The lactation consultant came and said the baby was latched well and it was normal. I am not sure normal is the same as fine,” Beth laughed. “But it is hard to be upset with this little thing. She’s so sweet.”

“You’ll need a couple more. Please tell me you will have more.”

“Oh, we will,” Beth agreed. “At some point, Mum.”

Louis smiled at Beth, almost encouragingly. He knew she wasn’t ready to discuss anything like that yet. However, it was important to her. It was hard to think about having another baby when you’d just had one and were watching your mother’s life slowly fade from her body. Beth teared up already. Louis needed to create a distraction.

Louis suggested, “Let’s get a photo. Margaux and Margaux, huh?”

“I look like hell,” Maggie protested.

“Mother, you look fine,” Robbie said, voice flat. “Enjoy your granddaughter.”

Maggie relented as Robbie took a photo with his nice camera. He was the family’s stand in photographer. Beth looked on happily as her mother stared at the baby in one shot and at the camera for another. Louis never quite grasped how similar all of Beth’s quiet expressions were to her mother’s. He knew they shared the same admonishing scowl, but now realised they also had the same doting stare. Louis wondered if someday their daughter would emote similarly.

“Can I hold her?” Keir asked. “I’d like to see the lass.”

“Yes, Papa.” Beth stood and handed the baby over.

“She’s yours, Bethy,” Keir chuckled. “She’s got that angry face. Yeah, I don’t like my mug, either, Margie.”

---