To Ginny’s shock, Mr. Marchand suddenly looked as hunted as a boy cornered in an alley.
He visibly pulled in a long breath, then rose to his feet almost gingerly.
The nurse carefully settled the bundled-up baby in his outstretched arms.
Everyone else had also stood up when Mrs. Peck entered. And now they craned their heads to peer at the baby, who had a shock of black hair and merry brown eyes.
The baby gazed at Marchand as if he was a marvel, which was the way most people seemed to gaze at Marchand. Ginny found it interesting to witness that it apparently began at birth.
“How do you do, new little sir,” Marchand said gravely to the baby.
The baby enthusiastically waved his fists and made muffled little duckling sounds.
Ginny’s throat knotted. How safe that baby must feel right now. Her skin hummed, remembering how Marchand’s arm felt curved protectively, possessively, around her, as he led her away from the carnage of crockery and cutthroats.
Who had held Mr. Marchand when he was a baby, or a child?
How could a man be both safety and danger?
Mr. Marchand was communing silently with the baby, to whom he’d offered his finger to grip.
“I see you’ve held babies before, Mr. Marchand,” Mrs. Peck said.
His head shot up as if she’d accused him of a crime. “I beg your pardon?” he said sharply.
“Most men go at it as if they’ve been handed a sack of potatoes,” Mrs. Peck explained, sending warning glances at the other fellows in the room, who apparently were going to be given a chance to hold the baby, too.
“I find the ‘try not to drop them’ approach works best.” Marchand’s voice had gone abstracted again. “It only makes sense to support the wobbliest parts of them.”
“His name is Roger,” Mrs. Peck told him.
Roger the baby made more adorable snuffling sounds.
Ginny’s heart suddenly felt too big for her chest.
Marchand finally gently handed the baby back to the nurse.
“Thank you for sharing him with me, Daniel,” he said politely.
Daniel toed the carpet shyly by way of reply.
Roger was then passed about the room by all the adults as if he were a sort of benediction. He didn’t cry or fuss at all. It was as though he understood his job was to transform all the adults in the room into mush.
And then the tiny human was placed into Ginny’s arms. He flapped his little starfish hands as she gazed at him, transfixed.
She was suddenly certain she would kill for Roger, if necessary. A shocking gust of emotion nearly swayed her: a fierceyearning bound up in painful hope and an amorphous but exhilarating fear. As if she stood on a high peak and could see in every direction. She wanted her future to feature lots of Rogers.
She pulled in a steadying breath.
Her heart skipped when she glanced up to find Marchand’s eyes fixed on her.
But she was stunned to see he’d gone pale.
He looked away from her with some effort and aimed his eyes unseeingly at the far wall.
His stillness alarmed her.
She gave Roger back to his nurse, who passed him to Delilah, who cuddled him a bit before she passed him to Captain Hardy.