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Effie smiled, and her gaze dropped to her son. “That need for freedom and a new lease of life is in the past, though. We are living it now, so naming a child to represent anything to do with your shared history just didn’t hit. We couldn’t do it. He’s his own person. He’ll grow up without the tyranny of his grandfather. We’re not tying him to that.”
Gabe heaved a sigh. “Which takes us back to the drawing board. Any and all suggestions, throw them at us. We’ll see if anything sticks.”
Jackson and Ariel began name generating, the new parents hearing and shrugging at most. I stared down at the bairn then ran an arm around Alex.
“Got any ideas?”
She sucked in a breath. “I wouldn’t want to make a suggestion. I’m brand-new to this family.”
“Yet the promise ye extracted from your cousin was done to protect us all, including this wee one.”
The room fell silent.
“Uh, maybe explain that?” Ariel asked.
Quickly, I outlined what had gone on. I hadn’t told any of them. Not that I shared my troubles with them in general, but with my sister-in-law in labour, a family meeting had not been on the cards. They didn’t even know my picture had appeared online or connected with Alex’s.
When I was done, all stared wide-eyed.
My brother was quickest to recover. “The king offered us his support?” He uttered a laugh. “Makes sense now why that haunted expression has gone from your eyes, Raph. Thank ye, Alex. I refused to live a life in fear, but I’ve got to say that helps a lot.”
Effie watched her baby and tilted her head. “What if we stop looking for big meaning in the name? We just pick something that suits him.”
Gabe’s eyebrows rose. “Where’s the list of names we liked?”
She found her phone and opened her notes. “Xavier?—”
“That’s perfect,” Gabe said.
Effie blinked at him. “I put that on the list because it’s the name of the snowboarder I admire, but more because I think itsounds really cool. Xavier Gordonson is a badass name for when I take him out on the slopes.”
“Xavier Gordonson.” My brother tried it on for size. Then he smiled. “Welcome to the world.”
Braced by Jackson at my side, I moved in on Dori. The count, invited by Alex to ours for dinner, lifted his head at our approach, his posture stiffening. Throughout the evening, Alex had tried to get him to talk, but he was muted. Nothing like the man I’d met in a nightclub when he’d sprayed champagne, jumped on a table, and caused a ruckus. She had the feeling she might be the blocker, so this was our alternative plan.
“This is the firing squad? Put me out of my misery,” Dori said sardonically.
I ducked my head at the door. “Up and out. We’re taking ye for a walk.”
He sighed but stood. “Maybe a quick dip in the loch. Don’t let me surface.”
Outside in the fresh night air, I led the way, strolling out into the lane that led around the hill and in the direction of Braithar, Jackson keeping pace. “You’re unhappy. Alex hasn’t told us your story, but we know the basics and want to help.”
“My heart’s broken. Nothing any of you can do about that.”
Jackson palmed his shoulder in a friendly gesture of solidarity. “Tell us the story. Maybe we’ll have some ideas.”
Dori relented, probably because of the alcohol Alex had plied him with, but the words came thick and fast. His falling in love with his musician. Their romance. The way he knew to the bottom of his soul that she was the one for him, but then her agreement to marry another.
At last, we got the details of why he’d lost his passport and had been avoiding Alex.
Jackson gave me a look behind Dori’s back. Neither of us liked the sound of what he’d told us.
“So you see, she made her choice. I should never have gone to find her.”
“Have ye moved on?” I asked.
“What the fuck does it look like?” He hauled in a breath. “I don’t mean to snap at you. But no, I haven’t. I can’t.”