They slapped him on the back. “Well done, man.”
“Don’t let Diana hear you say that. She’s done all the work.” He headed up the stairs. “I will summon you when my wife is respectable.”
Hunt slowly opened the door to see Diana holding a little bundle who had quieted down somewhat. Marguerite had cleaned his wife up. She wore a fresh nightgown, her hair had been brushed, and a ribbon held it back at her nape. She looked up. “Come, Hunt. Come see our daughter.”
She acted as though everything was quite normal after he’d spent hours listening to her suffering and cursing him.
He sat next to her on the bed, his insides shaking like jelly. “A little girl.” Blonde fuzz covered her tiny head. She looked so fragile, so helpless. A sense of protection he’d never felt before, not even for his beloved wife, swamped him, almost bringing him to his knees.
He reached out with a shaky finger and touched the extremely soft skin on her face. “She looks like you.”
“I know. I hope she is just like me, too.” She grinned at him, her eyes teasing. “Don’t you?”
Good heavens, no. I will be bald from snatching out my hair by the time the urchin is ten years.
“Of course, my love, of course. Just like you.” He leaned over and kissed Diana’s lips. “Just like you.”
He was amazed to realize he meant it.
The End