Chapter Forty-Three

"How about Arthur?"

"I don't hate that one."

Harry smiled gently against her skin. "What do you think?" he whispered, still loud enough for Ruth to hear. "Arthur? Edgar? James?"

Ruth ran her fingers through his hair and gave it a yank, pulling his face away from her rounded belly. "I'll allow Arthur and James and Henry as middle names. He'll be king one day, and all us royals have far too many names. But we need a first name," she reminded him.

He sighed, running his hand over where their unborn baby had been cocooned inside her body these last seven months. They still had time before the baby arrived to come up with a name, but it was important to find a name. A royal birth, particularly for the second in line for the throne, would require announcements and a prepared circus from the palace.

"We can come up with more boy names later. I do like James after my father. Maybe Richard after Grandfather. You won't let us name him Henry after you, I know."

Harry grumbled at that. He'd had the same fight with Jane before Graham was born. In the end, they'd given him Henry as a middle name with the express understanding that he'd be called Graham and only Graham and never, ever use his middle name. Henry was a fine sort of name, but Harry did not feel much connection to it. His name was Harry. Harry James Pearce. Henry James Pearce, despite being the name on his birth certificate and all official records, felt like an unfamiliar person to Harry. He was Harry, and that's all there was to it.

James seemed to be the best name, since both Harry and Ruth's fathers had the name, but she was adamant about not having it as a first name, just as he was adamant about not having Henry as a first name. Arthur seemed to be good choice, but Ruth didn't love it, obviously. Richard was a good name, but it might be odd to have another Richard as king so soon. Well, not that Harry or Ruth would be alive when their son acceded to the throne. That's how it worked, after all. Ruth would surely outlive Harry by many, many years. At least if he had anything to say about it. But that morbid thought wasn't right to have just now.

"Remind me of all your litany of names," Harry said, wanting to focus on girl names for the moment. Privately, he was hoping they'd have a girl. Either way, they'd be happy, of course, but Harry had this vision of a tiny little version of Ruth with her luminous eyes and her dark hair and her pale skin. And, of course, Ruth's brilliant mind deserved to be passed on to another brilliant woman to rule her people just as incredibly as Ruth was sure to do when she herself became queen.

Ruth sighed. Harry knew she was rather tired by her excessively long name, but it was a good place to start. "My full name," she said reluctantly, "is Louisa Ruth Emilia Catherine."

Harry couldn't help but smile at that. He kissed Ruth's belly again and told their unborn child, "You hear that? Your mummy's got a beautiful bunch of names. I hope we can give you a few of those."

"Oh stop it. I don't want to use any of my names," she protested.

"None of them?" Harry asked in disbelief, looking up at her. "I know there's a lot, but they are very nice. I don't think we should use Catherine, since that's a bit overused between my wife and my daughter already. But none of the others?"

"Alright no Catherine and no Ruth," she amended.

He frowned. "Why no Ruth?" After all, that was her second name but the one she was known best as. At least in her personal life. He thought it was a lovely name.

"It's silly but…"

"Tell me," he prompted encouragingly.

"Well it's just that this life is so full of tradition and models to follow and rules and history and all of it. And I just…Ruth is my name. It's just mine. I know I'm Princess Louisa and one day I'll be Queen Louisa, but that's my job. My role. Me, myself, I'm Ruth. And I don't want it to be passed on like all these other duties that no one has a choice about. I don't want my name to be another burden our child has to bear. I want something that's just mine," Ruth explained sadly.

Harry had never thought of it that way. The name, unlike so many other things, was a product of the dynasties but was so personal to the person who had it. Harry was Harry and not Henry. Ruth was Ruth and not Louisa. That he could certainly understand. "Alright," he agreed softly. "You're Ruth. Only you. But I think Louisa should be in there somewhere. Not her first name. But I feel very strongly that you're going to be a wonderful queen and that legacy should be held in her name somewhere."

Ruth smiled down at him. They were lying on the sofa in their private sitting room and Harry was keeping his head near her belly as they lay tangled together. Her top was pushed up to expose the ever-expanding swell of their child. And it was getting so big that she could hardly see over it now without propping herself up. But she did so in order to smile down at him. "Okay, I'll agree to Louisa."

"Where did the rest of your names come from?" he asked.

"Louisa was Grandfather's younger sister who died in childhood. Ruth just came from my dad's imagination, which is why he always called me Ruth. Emilia was the wife of Albert the Emancipator, first king of the House Everard. And Catherine was my mother's mother's name," she told him.

"And what was your mother's name?"

"Elizabeth Charlotte Catherine. What was your mother's name?" she asked in return.

"Fiona Alexandra."

A spark of recognition appeared in Ruth's face at that. "Fiona? Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I actually really like that. Our Fiona here at Leister is the most wonderful woman. She's a wonderful mother to little Wes. And it was really your mother's name."

Harry nodded. "I have always liked our Fiona. And the fact that she's got my mother's name made me like her even more. Do you want to name our daughter Fiona? If we have a girl, I mean?"

"Well, maybe not a first name," she cautioned.

She did have a point about that, since there was already a Fiona in their house. Might be strange. But it left them in the same place. There were names they both liked but Ruth couldn't seem to decide on a first name. He'd have to give it some thought.

"My dad's mother's name was Mary," Ruth offered. "She was wonderful, my grandmother. I think it might be nice to honor her. Mary Dianne Louisa Margaret was her full name, if I remember correctly."

Harry tried to resist sighing in exasperation. These royals all had a million names. Their son or daughter would be plagued with the same problem. But there was one of those million names that he didn't mind. "Mary is my Catherine's middle name, too."

"Did you name her for someone?"

"Catherine was for Jane's mother. Mary was for my dad's mother. At the time, my mother had just recently died and I didn't feel right using Fiona just yet. But enough time has passed. Fiona and Mary are both wonderful names, I think."

"Fiona Mary Louisa, you think?"

"We said no to Fiona as a first name, right?"

"Right. Do you like one of the others as a first name?"

"I think…" Harry trailed off, thinking of the various configurations of names, thinking if any felt right. He placed his cheek on Ruth's belly, almost trying to hear if their baby had any opinion on the matter.

Ruth interrupted to say, "I think I like John Albert James for a boy. We can tack Henry onto the end if you'll allow. Or we could leave it."

Harry smiled. He heard her voice somewhat through the vibrating echo of her body from where his right ear was pressed. "Yes, I like that. And I think I like Emilia Fiona Mary Louisa for a girl."

There was no response. Ruth didn't say anything or react at all, so far as Harry could tell. He lifted his head, worried he'd upset her in some way. But when he looked at her, he saw tears welling up in her eyes.

"Ruth?"

She nodded and blinked rapidly. "I think that's it," she said, her voice harsh as she tried not to cry.

Harry took that as a very good sign indeed. After all this time, they'd finally figured it out. They had names. Their baby was going to be in their arms in just a few weeks. And their son or daughter had a name waiting for him or her.