Diarmot nodded, understanding that the woman had felt it best to keep her position clear, for she could not be sure if he would take a new wife. Allowing the children to see her as their mother could easily have caused strife within the household when and if there was a new lady of the keep. He knew Margaret would not have cared what position Fraser took with the children, probably would not have even cared if Fraser had taken his brood far away and never returned.
The fact that he knew, without any doubt, that Margaret would have been as uncaring a mother as Anabelle had been, proved it. Since one of the reasons he had stated for marrying again was to get a mother for his children, he had to wonder what he had been thinking of to choose Margaret.
Ilsa had been thrust upon him, claiming a past and promises he could not remember, yet she was proving to be a very good mother to his children. He doubted he could have chosen a better one. Ilsa did not berate him to his children, as far as he could tell, and she did not take her anger at him out on his children, either. She might scorn him for his licentious behavior which had led to their birth, but she treated the children themselves exactly as she treated her own sons. Despite all of the other problems besetting him and Ilsa, it appeared he had inadvertently gotten one thing he had been seeking--a mother for his children.
He quietly entered the nursery, looking around as he released Odo's hand.
This room, too, had been changed a little. Fraser had made it clean and comfortable, more so than many another room in the keep, but it had still been a little stark, Ilsa was making her mark here as well. He could not name each change precisely, save for noting cushions on benches and a few wall hangings, but the room was definitely softer, more cheerful and welcoming.
Even though he told himself to leave, that he had a lot of work to do, Diarmot moved toward the twins. The babies were sprawled on their backs on a soft pallet near Fraser's chair, awake but looking sleepy. One just stared at him and the other smiled. Finlay was the smiling one, he decided. He recalled Gillyanne's description of the differences in the boys' nature and was a little surprised at how clearly he could see it now. It was almost as if Cearnach waited and watched before giving his approval whereas Finlay simply accepted most everyone. Although it seemed foolish to credit such small children with those attributes, Diarmot could not easily scoff aside his impression.
Nor could he ignore how greatly those big eyes resembled his. Diarmot knelt by the twins, reached out to touch Finlay's curls and sighed with resignation when the baby grabbed one of his fingers and shoved it in his mouth. He glanced up at Fraser who was grinning as widely as Odo who now sat on her lap.
"Go lie down now, Odo," Fraser said. She gave the child a kiss, set him on his feet, and gently nudged him toward his bed at the far end of the room. "I hope Odo didnae trouble ye too much, m'laird."
"Nay," replied Diarmot. "One cannae fault the wee lad for the reasons he came to speak to me." He watched how the twins followed the conversation with their eyes. "They appear to be bright lads despite Finlay's compulsion to see near everything at hand as food."
Fraser chuckled softly. "Aye, they are. Bright and strong. Do ye still wonder if they are yours?"
"I sometimes wonder if any of them are truly mine," he murmured, then grimaced, wondering if he sounded as petulant as he thought he did. "Ah, weel, they are certainly all mine now, aye?"
"Aye, m'laird. Tis my feeling that they are all yours. Most women, e'en those of easy virtue, ken who fathered their bairns. Most arenae as Anabelle was, left with too many choices to be certain. These two laddies are most certainly yours, though I ken twill take more than my word on it to convince ye."
Since Finlay had fallen asleep, Diarmot gently extracted his finger and stood up. "Aye, it will. And, as for the rest of them, I fear their mothers might have had the same reason to doubt as Anabelle did."
"Mayhap. Most of that sort dinnae bother kenning names or faces and dinnae trouble themselves with the fates of their wee ones, however." Fraser returned her attention to the small shirt she was mending. "Lady Ilsa isnae like that and I think ye ken it. She wouldnae have to puzzle o'er who fathered these dear bairns for a moment. Lady Ilsa isnae like those other women and ne'er could be."
"How can ye be so certain of that?"
"Because I lived with one of that ilk, m'laird."
"So did I."
"Aye, ye did, but I wonder if ye truly learned the right lessons from that misery."
Diarmot snorted. "I learned ne'er to trust any lass, especially nay one who stirs my blood."
Fraser sighed but did not look at him. "Tis as I feared. Ye brand all for the sins of one."