Sebastien ran across the garden, his laughter filled the air. His nursemaid, Grace, walked behind him, her hands clasped behind her. Surely, Lavinia thought, she was looking for a way to caution the boy. He kept on running and laughing.

She smiled as she looked at him. Her son. Her son with Colin. Sebastien had been born on a rainy day in Paris. Lavinia had been at an art collector’s home with Colin, where he had displayed his paintings. Her waters had broken there.

She smiled. It had been four years since they eloped from Somerset to Gretna Green. There, they had gotten a special license and gotten married, with Lord Fitzwilliam as their only witness. Although the Duke and Duchess had not been openly supportive, they had sent them a letter, congratulating them on their union. After that, Percy returned home, while they went away, to Paris, to begin a new life.

The last four years had been the best of her life. She had never been happier in all those years.

“Mother!” Sebastien said as he ran to her and hugged her. She giggled.

She was painting in the garden. Over the years, her love for painting had grown. Although she was not been as good as Colin, she was getting better.

She wished to paint her son, now, as he ran in the garden. She had gotten the inspiration on one of the days when she had seen him running around the manor.

“Go on, dear,” she said to her son.

Sebastien ran along.

She watched him and went about painting.

“He is just like you,” Colin said, coming up behind her, and kissing her on her cheek.

“My darling.” She giggled. She had not heard him come up behind her.

Colin stood by her. His hair was longer now, and she loved it. She turned and pulled it behind his ears and kissed his cheeks. “You are back early.”

He nodded. He raised a letter in the air and handed it to her. “From your mother.”

She smiled and opened the letter. Her mother wrote quite often to her now, and she was excited to receive them.

Dear Lavinia,

I hope this letter finds you well, my dear. I write to you with a heavy heart. My heart is full of sorrow and burden. A few months ago, Charles fell ill. He had been getting better, but it worsened all of a sudden. I fear the worst, and so does he. And for this, he has requested that you all come home.

My regards to Colin and my little darling, Sebastien. I hope to see you soon.

Yours Faithfully,

Augusta, Duchess of Somerset

Lavinia felt cold as she lowered the letter. Colin was no longer beside her. He was now with Sebastien by the waterfall. Her heart broke as she watched him. She wondered how she would break the news to him. They had never even known that the Duke had been ill.

Colin frowned when he saw her. He whispered to Sebastien and made his way over to her, while their son played.

“What happened? What did the letter say?” He tried to take it from her but she shook her head.

“Your father is very ill. He wishes to see us,” she said. Her eyes glistened.

He creased his brows for a second, until it dawned on him. His eyes widened. “Ill?”

She nodded. “He has been ill for quite some time now it seems. We were not informed. Mother thought he would get better, but it has worsened.”

Colin closed his eyes and sighed. Lavinia pulled him in for a hug. He bowed his head and stayed still.

She rubbed his shoulders. He welcomed her touch, by resting his head on her shoulder and touching her hair.

He was not be close to his father, but he loved him nonetheless. Lavinia held him close. “Mother has asked that we return home. Your Father wishes it.”

“He thinks that he may not make it?”

Lavinia shook her head. “We must not think in such a way.”

He blew out a breath. His once happy expression was now gloomy. “We must prepare to go to England right away.”

Lavinia’s heart was heavy. She hoped in her heart, that this was a storm that would eventually pass. Hope grew inside her. The Duke would survive this.

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