He accepted the struggling bundle and held her awkwardly. Evie’s cries intensified.
“There now,” he said stiffly. “That’s quite enough noise.”
Iris laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh yes, reason with her. That’ll work.”
“Well, what would you have me do?”
“I don’t know! Something.Anything.” She sank into the rocking chair and dropped her face into her hands. “I’m so tired that I can’t think anymore.”
Owen looked down at Evie, then back at his disheveled wife.
She was right. He’d been absent, leaving her to manage alone while he chased shadows around London’s underground.
“Young ladies don’t carry on so,” he told Evie seriously. “A bit of dignity, if you please.”
“You’re hopeless.” Iris started to rise. “Give her back.”
“No.” He shifted Evie to his shoulder and felt her small body tremble with the force of her cries. “Let me try something else.”
The melody came from somewhere deep in his memory.
It was a sea shanty his grandfather had sung long ago. The tune was old, even in Owen’s recollection. His singing voice was rusty from disuse, but he managed the opening lines.
“Away, haul away, we’ll haul away together…”
Evie’s cries faltered slightly.
Encouraged, he continued, and swayed gently as his grandfather had done.
“Away, haul away, we’ll haul for better weather…”
The crying slowed to hiccups. Owen kept singing as the words came back to him across the years.
By the second verse, Evie had quieted completely. Her dark eyes fixed on his face with fascination.
“How did you do that?” Iris’s voice was barely a whisper.
“My grandfather.” Owen continued swaying and kept his voice soft. “He was in the navy before he inherited the duchy. Used to sing this when I was ill. Said the rhythm reminded him of the ocean.”
“I didn’t know you could sing.”
“I can’t. Not really.” He looked down at Evie, who was now blinking sleepily. “But she doesn’t seem to mind.”
They stood there in the lamplight, close enough that he could smell the faint scent of lavender beneath the sour milk and exhaustion.
Iris’s face had softened. The anger from before was replaced by something that made his heart race even faster.
“Owen…” she breathed, and he felt like he’d burst into pieces.
She could do that just by uttering his name.
No, it had to be the noise Evie was making before. That had rattled him.
Iris stepped closer, and for a moment, he thought she might touch him. The air between them crackled with possibility.
But then Evie stirred, making a small sound of protest.
“She’s nearly asleep,” he said quietly. “I’ll put her down. You should rest.”
