“Sir,” she murmured. “Come, hinny,” she soothed. Carrying the fretful infant, she crossed the room to climb the wooden stairs. Once she climbed out of sight of the tavern room below, she ducked into the room and shut the door, leaning against it with a sigh.
Carrying the child to the bed, she sat propped on pillows, holding him in her lap. She did her best to appease him as he wailed.
“Oh you,” she cooed softly. “You are hungry, I think, and not happy with a stranger. Your mama will be back soon, I promise.” She was rewarded with further fretting as the infant wriggled in the swaddling.
She wished Fraser was right about her ability to charm the little thing, but nothing she did seemed to affect the unhappy little fellow.
“Perhaps the captain is your father,” she muttered. “I could not charm him either.” The baby cranked out another quavering wail. “No? Aye, good. I hoped he was not your Da, truly.”
She got to her feet to pace the room with him, swaying, murmuring. Eventually, he grew quiet, relaxing against her, his head heavy on her shoulder.
“Soft you, soft you,” she sang gently, remembering a lullaby her nurse had sung years ago when Kate, Sophie, and Robert had been very small, and the world had held no threats for them. “Smooth you, soft you, how well I love you....”
The baby’s head drooped and he found his fingers, sucking noisily. Singing quietly, Kate sat down, holding him, watching his eyes drift closed. When his breaths lengthened out, she smiled in relief.
Without the fairy crystal, without the gift, she had managed to charm this small male creature all on her own, offering comfort, patience, and love. The result, a small accomplishment indeed, felt good, and was the best reward she had known in a long time. She smiled, singing, holding the child close.