For many months after their wedding, when asked about how he and Charlotte had come to be, Benjamin had simply said, “My wife is the more apt storyteller,” having sworn to never tell another lie for as long as he lived.
The truth was that he did not want her life to be colored by his past. Though he wagered it would not have mattered. His wife had made quite the name for herself since her first publication, and her fame did much to quiet the curiosity of their peers. None dared speak a word against the unimpeachable Charlotte Pembroke, who had inspired a new generation of poet-ladies to take up their quills.
Instead of bluffing, Gamston had suggested forthrightness. For instance, the Duke would say, “My son and I were long estranged but have come to see eye to eye,” more often than not, lauding his son in the next breath. For a long time, it had been difficult to see him as a father. Even now, as Benjamin spied him over their table in the Richmond Court gardens, there was reserve between them. But not distrust.
Gamston shot him a smile, looking a little less weary than when they had sat for a family portrait a few weeks ago. Charlotte had said it was high time he decorated the walls of his home, ever the champion of their reunion, although she had been less-than-pleased at having been captured, as she put it, “ballooning like a bloated toad.”
As if on cue, she hobbled back to him, a hand on her belly, plopping herself into the seat beside him. “Eleanor is the most blushing bride there has ever been or ever will be. She would hide herself under the tables if she could tear her eyes from Pollock long enough. I imagine her nervousness is why it took her so long to wed.”
Benjamin breathed a laugh, taking her hand in his own. “More blushing than you were, Princess?”
“I was not blushing but frostbitten, lest you forget.”
“I thought you were ravishing… though I suppose you might have longed for a normal affair such as this. No secret license, no swaps before the altar…”
Charlotte leaned forward, beaming. “Not a chance.” She turned away to have at her sister and her husband, who entertained Charlotte’s father by the buffet. “I cannot think of a time we were all so happy,” she said, and her voice welled with emotion. “There is not a thing I would change about this moment.”
Benjamin felt a hand press against the back of his chair, and suddenly, Matthew and his wife sat down beside him.
“All right, perhaps one thing,” Charlotte whispered in jest, shifting her attention to her brother and plucking up a madeleine from her plate.
Matthew snorted, brushing a dark lock of hair from Ernestine’s face. “What did I tell you, darling? Insufferable.” Turning back to Charlotte, he lilted, “I rather thought pregnancy would have sieved the evil from you, sister.”
“No more than it could make me like you, brother.”
Thankfully, they shared a laugh. Matthew said, “I hear the both of you are traveling to Gamston county once Eleanor heads for Milchester with Pollock.”
With a nod, Benjamin replied, “Charlotte wants to outfit the country seat before the babe is upon us.” He squeezed her hand. “And I haven’t the heart to refuse her a thing.”
“If I am to labor the next Gamston heir, I will do so in the lap of luxury.”
Benjamin smiled. It seemed too sweet a thing—to be married to the woman of his dreams, to be siring heirs for a duchy. The past two years had seemed a fairy tale, and every day he awoke fearful it had all been a dream, that he was not a Marquess but a soldier again.
He had been blessed with power beyond his wildest fantasy and tried to do right with it. First had come the Veterans Hall in London; next had come his seat in parliament; now, he turned his attention to the duchy, helping his father manage his affairs as best he could. Benjamin was surprised to find that he had a knack for business—a certain liking for it too, as money was as vulgar a thing as a gentleman could decently entertain. He still enjoyed skirting the line from time to time.
He knew he would never quite shake off his roguishness, but Charlotte didn’t seem to mind. Getting to his feet, he whispered for her to follow him deeper into the gardens, wanting a moment of peace before the rest of the guests arrived, and she agreed.
Ambling down to the paddock until the sounds of the wedding breakfast all but faded, they settled beneath a willow tree on the banks of the small steam that ran past Richmond Court. Charlotte lay her head in his lap, gazing at the clouds above them, humming a tune he did not recognize. It was a fine May indeed.
Stroking her hair, he closed his eyes, opening them only as she said, “I have been thinking of a name for the babe.”
Benjamin sighed happily. “Go on, then… but if you suggest something like Demeter or Aphrodite, I shall be quite cross with you.”
“I will not plague our child with my literary fancies,” she giggled. Lifting a finger to his cheek, brushing at his scar, she said, “If she’s a girl, what about… Milly?”
“Milly?” he echoed and looked down at her.
“An ode to your mother, perhaps. And to my own. Margaret, Milena… Milly.”
Benjamin’s heart swelled in his chest. “Just when I think it isn’t possible to love you more…” He pressed a kiss to her fingers and over the stream. “And if it’s a boy?”
“Hm…” Charlotte breathed playfully. “What about… Charles? Or Huxley?”
“You would plague our child,” he teased.
She stared deeply into his eyes, and he melted before her. “Fine, Demeter it is.” Suckling on her lips, she slipped into rest, saying again, more earnestly this time, “There is not a thing I would change about this moment.”
Thomas was sat on the floor with his daughter, Willow, watching with gleaming eyes as the sweet girl, only eleven months of age, wobbled her way into standing. She would fall down, look at him, and cackle with laughter before trying again. Willow had been the other woman in his life proving the man he was yesterday was a liar, as each day was somehow more joyous than the last. And how could they not be, with a little one as brilliant and adorable as his daughter?
Willow had only a tuff of hair, but it had already turned a shade of deep brown, matching her chocolate-colored eyes. She had her mother’s nose, his chin, and both of their endless love. As she once again attempted to keep her balance on her little feet, Thomas’s eyes shifted to Phoebe.
She was on the sofa, her legs folded to her side, and head propped in her hand. She had been ill with a headache that day, but she didn’t complain with their daughter’s laughter. There was only a smile to be seen on her face.
He nibbled on the side of his cheek before saying, “I think she’s ready to walk.”
“Walk?” Phoebe echoed, and then shook her head. “I think she’s a couple months away from that, my love.”
“No, I think she has the tenacity now,” he grinned and watched again as Willow fell but then stood back up.
“Tenacity and coordination are two very different things.”
“Where is your encouragement?” Thomas teased with a tutting sound. “I think she’s ready to try.”
As he took his daughter’s hands and started to get to his own feet, Phoebe spoke up in protest. “Oh, let’s not try so soon. She’s already working to bruise her bottom.”
“I won’t let her fall,” he promised.
His heart was pattering away in his chest as he remained hunched over as the baby held onto his fingers with her entire fists. Willow’s entire body rocked and swayed with every movement, high-pitched sounds of excitement coming out of her. Phoebe giggled and moved to sit up on the couch, opening her arms wide to encourage the little one.
“Come on, Willow. Come to mummy.” With hold on her father, the baby attempted to coordinate her feet forward, and was successful, though Thomas held her up to help her balance. Phoebe’s face lit up, her eyes wide as she opened her hands repeatedly to goad their daughter on.
Then, with great thought and consideration, Thomas dared to let go of Willow’s hands and both parents watched as the child toddled a few steps forward. Just as she began to lose her balance and was about to fall over, Thomas walked her way and scooped her up. But it wasn’t just a couple of steps he took himself—they were steps without a limp or the use of his cane. It had been subtle, and so he wasn’t sure if Phoebe would have noticed, but the look on her face said otherwise.
“You… you’re not limping,” she breathed and rose to her feet.
Thomas gave a modest shrug and gave Willow’s cheek a kiss. “I know I once promised to never keep things from you again, but this was fueled by good intentions,” he told her. His wife neared him, studying him closely. “Some of my business meetings haven’t been exactly business. Moses contacted a physician from America that’s now in London… and he’s been treating my leg. His exercises seem to be working.”
“It’s… cured?” she asked, a hand on her chest.
“I don’t think it will ever be fully healed,” he admitted, but a smile crept back onto his face. “But I’ll be able to keep up with this one better as she becomes mobile. Maybe even take the occasional family stroll without the cane.”
“That’s so wonderful,” Phoebe exclaimed, hugging him tightly and giving him a big kiss on the lips. She shook her head when she pulled back, rubbing his chest affectionately. “I can’t believe you kept this from me. What an awfully wonderful surprise. And the two of you took first steps together,” she crooned before kissing Willow on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, little one.”
The baby cooed and hugged his other side. Thomas’s arms held them both, a sigh escaping him. “I am the happiest, luckiest man in all of London. Dash it all—likely, in all of England! I don’t think it gets better than this.”
“Well, I have a surprise of my own,” Phoebe admitted. When he looked to her with a raised brow and curious eyes, he watched as she nibbled her lip and took a deep breath. “Willow is going to be a big sister.”
He didn’t have to ask if she was certain or joking, as he knew that she wasn’t the type to declare it unless she was serious and sure. His hand reached to the back of her head, bringing her face to his as he molded his lips to hers possessively and lustfully. There was something so special, so intimate knowing she was carrying his child. While Thomas felt as though he always treated her well and her best, he made sure to pamper her and keep her as stress-free as possible when she was with child.
“This is a day that rivals the day of our wedding,” he beamed before kissing Willow’s head. “And the day you were born, of course.” She clapped her clumsy little hands and Thomas was certain he would burst from the joy in his heart.
The moment was interrupted by a sound at the door. In the next instant, little Graham was bounding into the room ahead of his mother. He collided with Phoebe’s legs, burying his face in her skirt. “Auntie!” he exclaimed.
Phoebe chuckled and bent down enough to rustle his hair. “Hello, Graham. Are you having a good day?”
He looked up to her with his blue-brown hazel eyes and grinned, “Paint?” Little Graham was nearing three years old and was talking more and more each time he saw the child.
“After luncheon, my little darling,” Phoebe promised.
“Looks like you all were having a moment,” Ruth commented as she beckoned her son back to her. Graham dutifully listened to the instruction of his mother, taking hold of her hand as he shifted his weight side-to-side with excitement. He was a little ball of energy that ran Ruth ragged, but he didn’t think she would have it any other way.
“Thomas has been given treatment for his leg,” Phoebe shared. “He and Willow took a couple of steps together, both unaided.”
“That’s remarkable!” Ruth gasped. When they walked over to her, she pinched her niece’s cheek lovingly, “And so impressive for such a little thing.”
Willow was smiling so wide that her eyes were squinted almost shut. As soon as Ruth opened her arm, the little girl extended her body toward her, and he happily handed the child over. The bond between the aunt and niece was almost too sweet to bear, and it always left him wondering if Ruth would one day remarry and have another child. She would be a good mother to a daughter. Thomas peered to Phoebe as he wrapped his arm around her waist, wondering if she would come right out with the news of their second child. His wife gave him a wink, letting him know it was to come.
The group moved into their dining room to enjoy a meal, laughter, and joy to be shared along with the bread. Thomas was notably quiet through the luncheon, as he was completely moved by just how wonderful life had been. As much as he once thought the military had ruined his life, he knew that every little thing had happened so that he could find himself there. Married, a father, and surrounded by people who loved him selflessly.
But that time, he didn’t tell himself the typical lie. Life would get better than that moment, and he couldn’t wait to see what delights the future held for him and his wonderful family. If the past couple of years had anything to say for the future, he knew that it would be nothing short of heaven.
It was a bright and sunny day, and Caroline was in high spirits. She had spent the early hours of the morning throwing up, but now she felt fine and ready to conquer the world, or in her case, conquer motherhood. She smiled as she picked her son, Thomas from where he played on her bed, and placed him on her waist.
Thomas patted her slightly protruding belly as he had seen his father do so many times, making her laugh. As she made her way to the washroom to bathe him, she thanked the heavens for the men in her life. A ritual she had formed since the day her son was born. Caroline and Alexander had decided to be involved in their children’s lives like their parents had been in theirs, as opposed to leaving them to the servants to take care of.
When she was done with his bathing, she hurriedly dressed him up so she could join the others. She and Alexander had invited their families for tea, and everyone was already in the drawing room, waiting for her to show up with their nephew. As she made her way to the drawing room with her babbling son, Caroline thought about how blissful life had been so far.
She and Alexander had struggled in the first few months of parenting, unaware of the amount of attention babies required until Thomas had come and put an end to their perfect illusion. Instead of making them angry, that moment had only served to bring them even closer as they teamed up to take care of their needy infant, taking turns so neither of them was too exhausted. Despite the deeper bond Thomas’s birth created between them, they were glad when he finally became quiet, a few months later, although it had taken a while to get used to.
She laughed now when she remembered how they had woken up every day for a week running to his bassinet to make sure he was still breathing after he had finally settled and stopped crying every night. She had spoken to her mother who explained that it was normal for babies to settle down after some time and sleep all night.
Caroline was also thankful for the supportive family she had. She and her mother had put away their constant bickering and bonded more over the birth of this tiny little human. Her mother-in-law had made it a habit of dropping by almost every day to check in on her grandson, glad to finally have a baby once again that she could tend to. Ann had dubbed herself Thomas’s favorite aunt, always wanting to hold him whenever she visited.
Between both families, Thomas had amassed so many toys and gifts that Alexander and Caroline had had to tell the family to desist from buying him any more. Thomas was the greatest gift life had offered her for the past two years, and now, with her stomach growing by the day, another one was about to come into their lives.
She knew Alexander hoped this one would be a girl. He had started asking her how his baby girl was doing and talking about how he could not wait to welcome his little princess into his arms, but Caroline thought it would be another boy, although she was not entirely certain about that. The one thing they were sure of, however, was that the baby would be loved no matter what it turned out to be.
As Caroline drew close to the drawing room, she could hear the noisy chatter from the families and rolled her eyes. She knew the moment she walked into the room their attention would be focused on Thomas and they would all start vying to hold him. It was always a funny sight to see, and Thomas was unpredictable, never playing favorites but choosing to share his affection among all of them instead of letting the same person hold him every time. Alexander always bragged about how his son was wise beyond his years whenever it happened.
The chatter in the room suddenly died down as Caroline pushed the door open and walked in. Soon everyone kept asking for her to bring Thomas to them. Caroline set him on the floor and watched him waddle his way over to Ann and reach out to be carried, to the victorious laughter of her who was glad to be chosen. The others laughed, joked, and mocked each other in good fun before moving on to other topics.
“Caroline, how are you and my granddaughter doing today?” Elizabeth Mannfield asked, making Caroline roll her eyes. She turned to look at her husband who was laughing as he served tea and pie to everyone present. Alexander and his mother fully believed it was a girl and she had given up trying to dissuade them.
“We are fine, thank you. I feel great today, better than ever. How are you?” she asked her as Alexander walked over to her and led her to the seat he had reserved for her, placing a kiss on her cheek before continuing with serving.
Caroline chatted with her mother, leaving her father to continue the serious conversation he seemed to be having with Henry. The two were always in a world of their own, bonding over the fact that they were the only elderly men in the group as Alexander had no interest in being part of them.
“So, what were you all discussing so loudly before I walked in?” she asked, looking at the group curiously.
“Oh, nothing serious dear, we were just sharing news about all the recent gossip in town. I believe we were talking about Lady Murphy landing face first in the pond after she tried to show off her horse-riding skills,” her mother said.
“I have never been one to laugh at anyone’s misfortune, but she had it coming. I have never seen someone so proud and out of touch with reality as she is. It makes no sense really, but I suppose now she will be a little calmer. At least for a while,” Lady Mannfield said, shaking her head.
“Oh dear, that must have been terrible. I do not think it is easy for someone who always has to be the center of attention to suddenly be getting the wrong sort. I wonder how long it will take for her to show her face in public again.” Caroline did not know who Lady Murphy was, but she knew that the woman must have been a terror for the ever-loving and positive Lady Mannfield to not care about her misfortune. The fact that she did not know who the Lady was made her feel sorry for her. Sure, the others might dislike her, but it made no sense for her to do so since she had not experienced her malice before.
“Leave it to Caroline to feel bad for someone who would not have cared for her and would probably laugh at her if it had been her in that situation,” Ann said, finally giving her attention to someone other than Thomas. “I wish it had not happened, of course. No one should have to go through such mockery, but if she had not been showing off, none of this would have happened. I think there’s a lesson to be learned there.” Ann went back to playing with Thomas after saying her piece, clearly done with the matter.
“Well, my wife does care about people, no matter what they have done. It is one of the things that I love about her,” Alexander said, finally finishing serving the tea and pie. He returned to his seat next to his wife and offered her a lovely smile before taking her hand in his.
Caroline looked around and saw the mothers watching them with happy smiles on their faces that almost matched the one she had on hers. She was glad that they all got along and enjoyed each other’s company.
“Oh, did you hear that Lord Francis lost his wife recently? It is the saddest news I have gotten this week, frankly. I always enjoyed her company whenever we had the pleasure of seeing her,” her mother added.
Caroline knew Lord Francis and his wife Eugenia, so she was quite saddened by the loss of the woman.
“Yes, I heard. Henry is a friend of his, so he paid him a visit after it happened. He said Lord Francis was not taking it well at all. He seemed to have withdrawn into himself. For a man who was not very good at expressing himself, he cared for his wife,” Lady Mannfield said.
“Well, she’s not the only one to have died recently. It is rather odd because we rarely hear of people dying in this little town of ours,” Lady Mannfield continued. Caroline wondered who else could have died. She never heard these things because she and Alexander usually kept away from gossip, perfectly content in spending time with each other and blocking out the rest of the world except family.
“I’m guessing you are talking about Lord Westworth. It is a shame he died so soon after marrying his young wife,” Lady Campbell rushed to continue. “That is not current news, he has been dead for a while. Long enough for the Dowager Westworth to become bankrupt at least.”
“I heard about that but thought it was just fake gossip spread around because of how young she was. I know the Lord was very rich while he was alive, rich enough to keep her comfortable for the rest of her life, should she choose to not marry again. So how is it possible that she has lost everything less than two months after his death?” Lady Mannfield asked.
“It was because of love or lust. One wonders what it is she must have felt that was powerful enough to drive her to such heights of madness and foolishness. The Dowager set her sights on a younger man she had an interest in and wanted at all costs, but he turned out to be the owner of the new gambling den that recently opened. She started visiting regularly and got into the habit of gambling, just to catch his attention. Unfortunately, it did not take long for her to gamble away everything she owned. Worse is, he never had any interest in her, and now she is bankrupt and alone,” Lady Campbell said.
“Oh, the poor dear, I had thought she would be the first Dowager who was young and had enough means to do whatever she wanted comfortably. To have the opportunity to do as you please with society unable to shun you for it. I guess she just needed guidance on how to handle such wealth, now it is gone and there is nothing she can do about it but marry again so she can have a provider,” Elizabeth said.
Caroline listened quietly as the women spoke about Isabella and, although she had just been accused of caring for those who did not deserve it, she could not find an atom of care to offer up for her situation.
“I know what she has been through would be difficult for anyone but after how she tried to ruin my marriage, I do not think she deserves any pity at all,” she said, finally voicing her thoughts as the others nodded their assent. Maybe Isabella would find someone else to marry, but it made no difference to Caroline one way or the other.
The women discussed other news, sharing their experiences and wanting to know about Caroline’s current pregnancy until it was late evening and time for everyone to leave.
Barnaby knocked and walked into the room. He had been promoted from valet to the family’s new butler after Baldwin finally accepted retirement. The old man was currently living not far from the house.
“Master Alexander, your brother Colin has returned and is here right now,” Barnaby said, letting Colin into the room. Caroline shouted his name in shock, just like everyone else. A smile spread on her face at his return.
“Oh, my dear boy!” Lady Mannfield exclaimed in shock and excitement, running to hug her son. Soon the whole room was filled with noise as everyone bombarded him with questions and hugs. The only people who were not excited were Thomas, who had not met his uncle yet, and Ann, who was sitting there in shock.
Caroline watched in fascination as Colin locked eyes with Ann from across the room. It was clear that the attraction between them was still present. A grin spread across her face, and she could not help but hope that now that they had both had time to think things through, they would talk and find solace in each other again.
“How is our son?” Marco asked, looking up as his wife entered their bed chamber. She sighed as she came to sit on the bed beside him. He immediately leaned forward to unbutton her dress for her, and Alice sighed with gratitude. After more than four years of marriage, her husband still helped her undress every night.
“Franco is well. He is most enamored with the toy horse you gave him,” Alice said, smiling as she slipped off her stockings. Marco doted on their son and was a fantastic father, as she had always known he would be even when she feared having children.
“Of course he is,” Marco said proudly, watching Alice pull her gown off her head and undo her stays. “He shall be a horseman when he grows up.”
“Indeed. Now he wants a real horse,” Alice said pointedly, quietly enjoying how Marco’s eyes lingered on her exposed breasts as she stepped out of her shift. She allowed him to look at her for a moment before pulling her nightdress over her head. “He is becoming quite insistent.”
“Perhaps I should have anticipated that,” Marco sighed, setting his book down on his lap.
“I think you should have, yes,” Alice said, amused, as she climbed into bed beside him. “He also has another request.”
“Oh?” Marco raised his eyebrows significantly. “And what else does our young duke require?”
Alice smiled and took her husband’s hand, rubbing her thumb across the back of his knuckles.
“He is demanding we give him a baby brother to play with,” Alice said archly.
Marco snorted and shook his head. “To bully is more like,” he said fondly. “There is nothing like being a big brother to make a lad feel superior.”
“What do you think of his request?” Alice asked, feeling her heartbeat race. She had something to share with her husband.
“Well, we agreed on one child,” Marco said, smiling as he leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek affectionately. “And I have everything I could possibly need right now.”
“Is it not good for a boy to have a sibling?” Alice prompted, looking down at their joined hands. “He might become spoiled otherwise.”
“Are you seriously considering having another?” Marco asked, looking at her intently. They had not talked about it since Franco’s birth, but he had taken what precautions he could during their lovemaking to respect the decision she made when they married.
Alice smiled. She had kept her secret until she could surreptitiously see a doctor confirm her suspicions.
“Well, darling, I am afraid the time for consideration has passed,” Alice said. She could not stop herself from smiling as she moved her hand to her belly.
Marco stared at her for a long moment. Then he set his book aside and placed a trembling hand on her stomach.
“You are increasing?” he questioned, eyes full of hope and excitement.
“I am,” Alice said, nodding happily.
Marco swept down to kiss her ravenously, swallowing her chuckles with his insistent mouth.
“That is wonderful!” Marco exclaimed, pulling away and kissing her soundly on both cheeks before pulling back to examine her. “How did I not know? You were so terribly sick with Franco.”
“I am well. The physician said that every baby is different. I might not be sick at all with this one.” Alice laughed, squirming as his hands stroked her hair, touched her stomach, and ran up her sides. “Marco, stop that. You are making me…”
“Making you what, love?” Marco asked, his voice teasing as he cupped her breast.
“Making me burn for you,” she whispered. Marco pulled back; his eyes dark with desire.
“Well now,” he whispered. “I must do something about that.”
Marco dipped his head to where her neck met her shoulder, and she felt the delicious sting of pain as he nipped her sensitive skin. She moaned out his name while he placed a kiss over the spot. She knew she would have a mark later. Indeed, she had taken to wearing fichus to hide the evidence of his bites. But she loved his ravenous claiming of her flesh. Loved that she wore the marks of his teeth and hands on her body.
“Marco,” she moaned. “I need…”
“What do you need, my love?” Marco asked, pausing his kisses. He put his chin on her shoulder and nuzzled her hair, lifting up a hand to pull out her pins so her curls tumbled down. He loved to see her hair free and breathed in deeply to enjoy the sweet honey scent of the strands.
“I need you inside me,” she confessed.
Marco loved that she could still boldly state what she wanted from him. She had always done so but became shy after their son’s birth. She was worried that the marks carrying their child left on her body would repulse him. It took some time for him to coax this fear out of her, and since then, Marco made it a point to tell her how beautiful she was every day.
“Take what you need,” he whispered.
Alice grinned devilishly and pushed him down onto his back. Marco smiled up at her, loving that she knew what pleased her and would take it from him and only him. He slept nude, so she only had to pull up her nightgown and straddle him once he kicked the blankets away.
She rubbed herself against his hard member, then leaned down and kissed his tip, making it twitch. She moved up his body, kissing, licking, and biting her way up his abdomen and chest. When she reached his shoulder, she bit him in the same spot he had marked her. Marco hissed at the pain, and she licked him.
Marco’s hands roamed over her body as she kissed up his neck and licked the seam of his lips until he opened his mouth and her tongue thrust inside. He caressed her shoulders and back before moving down to squeeze her buttocks. He found the hem of her nightdress and gently pulled it upwards. The slowness of the movement frustrated his wife, as he knew it would. She sat up and yanked the garment off her head, tossing it behind her.
He reached up and ran his thumbs along her nipples. They were more sensitive now that she was with child, and she groaned and arched into his touch. She moved her hips and rubbed herself against him, creating a sweet friction that sent bolts of pleasure through her body.
“If you keep grinding yourself against me, this will end before it starts, minx,” Marco growled, moving his hands to her hips to still her.
She laughed. “I can’t have that,” she said, lifting herself off him for a moment to allow him to position himself, then she sank down onto his shaft with a prolonged sigh. She stilled with him fully seated inside her and looked down at him. “I love you so much, Marco.”
He reached up and cupped her cheeks between his hands. “And I love you,” he said before sitting up and kissing her. When she was senseless with need, she shoved him back onto his back and lifted her hips, then slammed them back down, impaling herself on his shaft. He groaned, and she did it again. This time he surged up to meet her, and they began to find a rhythm that drove them both mad.
Sensing that she was close to her climax, he shoved up into her harder. “Touch yourself, Alice. Make yourself come,” he instructed. She did so, and he watched hungrily as her fingers circled her pearl as she rose and fell over him. Her movements became more frantic, and she bucked her hips as her orgasm tore through her. She continued to ride him as the intense pleasure crested then, eased, as last slowing her movements.
She opened her eyes to see him smiling at her with a wicked gleam in his eye. “My turn,” he said before flipping her onto her back. He stopped to stare at her for a moment. He ran his hand over her belly, tracing the faint marks left by her first pregnancy. “You are so beautiful, my love. You grow more so every day. But you look best when I am inside you.”
He leaned over her, pressing his hands onto her thighs so her legs were spread even wider. He drove into her and relished her cry of delight. He didn’t tease her as was his wont; he just pumped into her with force, leaning more of his weight onto her thighs so she couldn’t move. Alice threw her head back and allowed him to take what he needed from her body.
He grabbed her wrists when she moved to put her arms around his shoulders. He shoved her arms over her head and pinned them there. She gasped as he held her in place while he relentlessly pounded into her.
“Yes,” she breathed, straining against his hold as her second climax began to build within her. She lifted her hips to meet him, and her inner muscles began to clamp around him.
“Open your eyes, Alice. I want you to look at me when I make you come again.”
She opened her eyes and looked into his as she screamed his name. His stare bore into her as he wrung every last bit of sensation from her orgasm, leaving her panting and spent. Watching her pleasure drove him towards his own release. He thrust into her twice more, then growled as he came violently inside her in hot waves.
Marco kissed her nose after a moment and withdrew from her, falling to his side. Alice cuddled up to him, and he held her tightly. “Are you truly happy about the new baby?” he asked after a while.
She raised her head to face him. Her beloved husband was both handsome and strong, but he was always tender and kind to her. He loved her in a way that no one else could. She couldn’t understand how she could have doubted Marco’s devotion to her when she thought about the seeds of doubt Hackman had tried to plant. It shone through his eyes and could be found in everything he had done since they met. These days, she rarely thought of her father’s treacherous advisor. The man had been transported for his crimes, and they no longer had to be concerned about him. When her thoughts returned, she didn’t dwell on the strife or terror he had caused. She just reflected on how far they’d come and how much stronger they’d become as a result of their experiences.
She didn’t think of her father all that often, either, but when she did, she tried to focus on how grateful she was that he did the right thing in the end. She resented him at first for thrusting her into society and wanted to punish him by never having children, but she is now grateful that he did. After all, if the Duke hadn’t acknowledged her, she would never have met Marco, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
“I am, my dear. I really am,” she replied.
He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. “What shall we name this one?” he asked absently.
“How about Giovanni if it is a boy,” Alice said with a quiet smile.
“My cousin would absolutely be insufferable,” Marco groaned. “What about for a girl?” Marco would love to have a daughter. One with her mother’s burnished curls, impish smile, and forthright nature. Franco resembled him in almost every way, even in temperament, which could be challenging at times. He would love to see his wife contend with a copy of herself one day.
“I do have one in mind for a girl as well,” Alice whispered.
“What is it? Please don’t tell me you want to name her Beatrice. She would preen even more than Gio,” Marco joked.
Alice laughed. She had no doubt he was right. Her dear friend would be vocal in her pride if she and Marco named a child after her. Perhaps they would someday name their children after the marquess and his wife if they ever had more. They were all as close as siblings now, and Alice could think of no better way to honor that bond, but she had something else in mind for this baby.
“If it is a girl, I would like to name her Hope,” Alice said. “For that is what you gave me when you entered my life.”
Marco smiled at this and drew his wife up for a tender kiss. “That is perfect, my love, for that is what you gave me as well,” he said.
It was true for both of them. To protect herself from a harsh society, Alice had transformed into the Ice Queen. Marco was a man full of anger, driven by the desire for vengeance for his friend’s murder. When they met, they both realized they desired more out of life. Marco hoped he had found the woman who could heal his deep wounds, while Alice hoped she had found a man who could love her for herself rather than her money. That hope grew into something neither of them could have imagined: a beautiful life filled with love, laughter, and passion with the person who completed them. The life they now lead together in bliss.
Anthony had everything: the perfect, adoring wife, many profitable businesses, and any comfort that a man would want for. But the most important thing of all was possibly being ripped away from him. And a life without his darling Isabel, his happiness, was not a life worth living.
He could not stop pacing about the hallway as he waited outside her bedchamber at their townhome. Isabel had been ill for weeks—weeks! From the very first day, he had recommended a physician, but she had been stubborn and wished to wait it out. It wasn’t until that very morning that it had worsened where the exhaustion was so great, she could not get out of bed.
Had a fever attacked her? What if she didn’t improve? Anthony knew logically that his thoughts were exaggerated and dramatic, but his heart simply couldn’t bear the thought of Isabel dying. The physician had only been with her for fifteen minutes, but Anthony had felt like he had been there for hours.
Suddenly, the door opened, and he whipped around, studying the physician’s facial expression for any hint of what was going on. “Well, my lord, I have recommended her some herbal teas which will help with her nausea and dizziness. Beyond that, a great amount of bedrest is in her future.”
“What is the matter, though? Is it fever? Consumption?” Anthony asked in a panic.
The physician flashed him a smile and clasped his hands together. “A growth, my lord. Perhaps two, considering how terribly her body is adjusting to it. But have no fear, in about six months from now, the growths will expel from her. And you’ll even have the pleasure of naming them.”
Anthony had to take a moment to calm down and fully understand what he was saying. With child. Isabel is with child?! “You’re certain of it?” he asked, breathless.
“As certain as the day is light.” The man nodded.
“You… you…” Anthony muttered, shaking a finger at him. “I don’t know whether to slap you or kiss you on the mouth. What kind of physician breaks news in such a way?”
“I would really prefer if you did neither,” the man grumbled. “All in good fun, I assure you. I did not mean any offense.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Anthony blurted out before rushing past him. He didn’t want to waste time waiting to speak with the physician; he needed to see Isabel. They had both expressed a desire for children of their own, but they assumed she was barren because she had no children with her previous husband.
He found her, sitting up in bed, sipping tea. There was color to her cheeks for the first time in days, and there was a stunning glow to her. “How are you feeling?” he asked hastily.
“Better,” she assured him. “Enough to get out of this bloody bed.”
Then, Isabel hoisted herself up more and kicked her legs off the side of the bed. Anthony was at her side in an instant, blocking her path. “Oh, no, don’t you dare, my lady. The physician just told me you are in need of bedrest.”
“I’ve rested for weeks,” she huffed. When Anthony shot her a challenging stare, she gave one right back. “Can’t I rest in the study?”
He sighed, already knowing there wasn’t any stopping her. The best he could do was help her. “Stubborn, stubborn thing,” he teased her, wrapping an arm tightly about her waist.
“You knew this when you married me,” she taunted.
Anthony softened and kissed the top of her head. “That I did.”
Step by step, they made it to the study and settled in at the desk. Within just months of marriage, they had opted to order a larger desk so they could sit side-by-side. They had decided to get into the sugar business, as well as pottery, and they made all their decisions together. Anthony scooted his chair right next to hers and kept an arm around her as Isabel started sorting through papers.
All he could do for a moment was admire her. Even having just found out she is with child, and maybe children, she was dedicated to their work. She was in her nightgown, her hair down and natural, not a granule of makeup on her face—and she had never appeared more gorgeous to him. Other than perhaps their wedding day.
Anthony reached across and rested a hand on her stomach. When she lifted her gaze to look at him, they were both smiling at one another. “Can you believe it?” he whispered.
“I want to say no, but I can,” she admitted. “As everything seems to fall right into place when we are together.”
“That it does, my love,” he purred and kissed her cheek. “He said it might even be twins.”
“I believe that too.” She sighed. “He said twins often come with exhaustion and sickness. I’ve talked a good deal with both Helena and Mary about their children and pregnancies. Neither of them were sick to this extent. Though, I shouldn’t expect anything less of your children.”
He snickered and kissed her cheek again. “That you shouldn’t. They will be the most beautiful, intelligent, and hellish children of all time.”
Her hand rested over his and her lips neared his. “I look forward to it.”
The kiss was long, sweet, and as perfect as the moment was. Fate had brought them this far, and he could not wait to see where it would take them as a family.
“Don’t come in yet! And keep your eyes closed!” Owen called through the door.
“Oh, honesty, what are you up to?” Rosaline said, exasperated as she waited for her husband’s answer outside the library door.
“A surprise!” Owen called back through the door.
“We’ve been wed for nearly two years, do you not think we are a little beyond childish surprises?” Rosaline laughed, her hand caressing her swollen belly. She was nearly five months along with child. She had woken that morning to a note on Owen’s pillow, telling her to come to the library. She had naturally rushed as fast as she could manage, simply throwing her housecoat over her night dress.
“Just wait until you see what I have in store for you,” Owen chuckled, opening the door to smile down at his wife. “Good morning, my love, come in.”
Rosaline rolled her eyes and took her husband’s hand, letting him guide her into the library. She gasped when she saw what he had prepared. He had moved the most comfortable couch in front of the fire, had strewn it with rose petals, and put bouquets of roses, all of different colors, all around the room.
“Oh, Owen, what have you done?” Rosaline gasped.
“Our anniversary, my love,” Owen said, lifting her hand to his lips to press a soft kiss against her wedding ring.
“Our wedding anniversary is not for three weeks,” Rosaline said, shaking her head.
“Not that anniversary, this anniversary,” Owen said softly, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “The anniversary of the night we spent together in the library. This time, I wanted to create the perfect atmosphere.”
“Oh?” Rosaline raised her eyebrow. “The perfect atmosphere for what?”
“For what you have been needing most days, my darling,” Owen whispered against her ear, and Rosaline shivered from head to toe. She had been experiencing heightened desire with her pregnancy and eagerly leaned up to take his mouth gently, to kiss him sweetly and fiercely, his tongue a delicious, teasing slide. She heard Owen groan softly, knew that he was relishing the confidence with which she kissed him. She leaned back and raised her eyebrows in a challenge.
“Will you give me what I need? Husband?” she breathed softly.
“Immediately, wife,” Owen chuckled, tugging Rosaline’s hand, and guiding her over to the couch. She smiled when she realized that he had chosen this couch in particular because of its comfort and ease for her slowly growing body, and was happy when he settled back, pulling her astride his lap. Rosaline could not help the feeling of excitement when she felt Owen firm and ready for her through his nightshirt. She didn’t stop herself from rocking forward, tugging his shirt up to reveal his bare legs.
“Do you remember that night?” she asked breathlessly, lifting Owen’s nightshirt up over his head until he was glorious and bare beneath her, her loving husband, exactly what she wanted and needed.
“I do,” Owen murmured, untying her house coat, and letting it slide off her shoulders, rubbing his warm hands up her bare arms. Owen then set his hands on Rosaline’s knees, sliding hands up under her nightdress to grip her hips. Rosaline took a shuddering breath, knowing full well that holding still, feeling him ready beneath her, would only fuel her desire. Owen leaned forward and kissed her bare shoulder, moving his lips to her exposed throat. “Even without the firelight we had that night, you seem to glow, dear wife.”
Rosaline held his gaze unflinchingly as he stroked down the narrow strip of skin at her throat to where the top button of her night dress was loose. Rosaline’s breath caught in her throat.
“And yet how much more beautifully you glow with nothing on,” Owen murmured.
Rosaline felt color rise high on her cheeks with his every word and touch. His eyes, his sharp, blue eyes were so fixated and delighted. As he unbuttoned each button, he deliberately kept his fingers from stroking her skin, except for the occasional glancing gaze with each button, until it was open to the waist. Rosaline trembled, clutching at his shoulders for balance, her eyes falling shut as she waited for his touch. The babe growing inside her had made her skin all the more sensitive, all the more responsive, and Owen had told her over and over how much sweeter it had made their lovemaking. Rosaline found she reveled in the slow devouring of her flesh, enjoying every flicker of desire.
“Look at me,” Owen said, voice low and deep, and she couldn’t stop herself from keening softly. She leaned into his barely-there touch at her collarbone, her back arching as she slowly opened her eyes. Owen smiled at her softly, rewarding her gently by brushing his hand from her throat down to the beginning swell of her belly and back up, knuckles sliding against skin.
“Owen,” Rosaline breathed gently, unable to keep her eyes open as he slid his hand around her neck and into her tumbling mass of red curls. Her head fell back, pressing into his palm like a cat’s. She could not help herself from arching her back again, knowing her hardening nipples were pressing against the thin cotton of her half-open night gown. With her eyes closed she could still hear his audible swallow and felt a swell of satisfaction. Even after two years, she still pleased him.
“Rosaline,” Owen called gently, and Rosaline forced herself to reopen her eyes, trembling anew, breath ragged in her throat. Owen kept one hand in her hair while the other stroked the bare skin at her throat as he watched her carefully. She knew he was watching her arousal, enjoying the flush and glow of it. It made her feel powerful and honored, to have this power over her husband. To know that he watched every change in her body with wonderment. “You truly are a rose. The color of your skin . . .”
Owen cupped her breast tenderly, with a touch that was more warmth than pressure, perfect for what she needed. Rosaline whimpered softly, her nails biting into his bare shoulders, her body quivering with unashamed desire. Owen touched her again, his hand holding the new heaviness of her changing breasts. Rosaline knew how he admired the fullness of her fertile flesh, and could not resist pushing forward into his palm, encouraging a firmer touch. His thumb flickered over her nipple, a tantalizing touch that Rosaline couldn’t stop herself from gasping at. She wanted to give in to the hunger of it, to come apart in front of him, but she was also aching for more. She could not stop her hips from pulsating slowly, unconsciously, against his taut, naked flesh.
“Owen,” Rosaline whispered, her voice strained. “Please.”
“What is you command, dear wife?” Owen chuckled, nipping his teeth against her collarbone playfully.
“Touch me,” Rosaline begged, her hips beginning to strain against him.
“I am,” Owen breathed, fitting his fingers around her nipple in a way that always drove Rosaline wild with desire and need. Her hips stuttered, and she could not stop her back from bowing towards him as she slumped, her belly nudging him. The babe inside pressed against him. She was overwhelmed with the sensation of the wonder of it, that she was his, and they were his, entirely. She could feel her own dampness, her own desire, slick between them. He groaned. “How could I not touch you, beloved Rose?”
“Owen,” Rosaline moaned, sliding her hips against his, unable to stop herself grinding down against him with wanton abandon. Rosaline tipped her mouth to his shoulder, giving him a firm bite in warning.
“Do not maul me, little temptress,” Owen gasped, his hand gripping her hair so tightly it hurt a little, but that only encouraged Rosaline more. “Tell me what you desire.”
“You do not know?” Rosaline growled in frustration, voice cracking under the pressure.
“Hmm, is it my mouth? My hand? My . . .” Owen said teasingly.
“You,” Rosaline gasped, pressing her own hand against Owen’s as it continued to tease her breast, encouraging a firm explosion of sensation inside her. Owen shrugged her hand off gently, just as he moved to push his firmness up inside, finally delivering the pressure she needed, easing the constant near ache inside her. Rosaline bit her lip and moved against him, rocking, thrusting, her forehead dropping down to his shoulder again.
“Let me see you, love,” Owen breathed in her ear. “After all, this is why I requested the best seat in the house.”
Rosaline looked at him again, nearly lost in pleasure, her hair tumbling wild around her shoulders. She looked down into her husband’s eyes, hunger and love so bright in those blue gems. He rocked up into her, hand clenched in her hair, and fingers tight around her nipple. It was perfect, it was exactly what Rosaline needed, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how well her husband knew her body. She tried to keep her eyes open for him as he leaned up to kiss her, pinching her just as firmly as she wanted, making her groan into his mouth.
“Keep looking at me, my darling,” Owen whispered. Rosaline tried her best, but she knew this was a game she was destined to lose. Her eyes fluttered shut as he thrust softly, then deeply, then just fast enough that a white light began to unfurl inside her mind. Since she had become pregnant, Rosaline’s pleasure had been fast in coming, as breathless and ravenous as a wild beast, possessing her soul. It left her gasping and mewling, unable to stop her hips from snapping against him as pleasure filled her. She shattered into his arms with a heart-deep groan, and Owen’s mouth was on hers. She surged against him, her kisses more ravenous than ever, clutching at his naked shoulders as she pressed as close as she could, hoping to make him feel each tremor of pleasure as it shook through her.
“You,” Rosaline gasped, arching her back and pushing her belly against him, so they were completely connected. At that moment they were all as close as they possibly could be, husband, wife, and still-forming babe. “You now, my darling.”
Owen groaned deeply, releasing his hands from her hair and breast to snatch the nightdress off over her head and press his face into her chest, breathing heavily against the damp skin, and Rosaline clutched the back of his head, thrusting against him, giving him exactly what she knew he needed. Unexpectedly, Rosaline felt her own pleasure peaking again, and she gasped, tossing her head back and feeling a fresh wave of delicious spasms flowing through her. Owen gasped, cursed, and then began to shake, coming apart in her arms, deep inside her.
“I love you, my Rose, my sweetest Rose,” he muttered breathlessly as Rosaline’s thrusts became languid and relaxed. She was suddenly, completely, exhausted. “Hold onto me.”
Owen caught her as she began to sway clumsily, losing her balance and slumping into his arms, her mouth pressed against his collarbone.
“I shall always hold onto you,” she whispered.
“Come,” he breathed, gently lifting her hips to separate them, and then guiding Rosaline down so they were lying on the couch, her back pressed against his chest and his hands moving around to cup her belly.
“That was a very satisfactory anniversary celebration,” Rosaline whispered, pressing her own hand over his.
“You speak as if it were over, my love,” Owen chuckled, his hand drifting down to the crease of her hip.
“Oh, do you have plans, darling husband?” Rosaline joked, twisting her head around so he could capture her lips and kiss her deeply. Their mouths were clumsy and lazy, their hands and movements slow. Rosaline loved these moments in the flush of love, the precious tenderness of them, when they were hazy and happy, voices low and whispering.
“Yes, terrible, horrible plans,” Owen whispered against her lips. “I plan to spend the whole day in here with my wife. If she is amenable?”
“She shall be,” Rosaline joked, brushing her nose against his. “Though only if you ensure that food is provided.”
“Well, of course, I know how to look after my wife when she is expecting,” Owen said in mock outrage. “We had best work up an appetite, my darling.”
Owen began to kiss slowly down her back, each kiss precious and delicious. Rosaline hummed and arched, enjoying the feeling of being caught between Owen’s hand on her belly and his lips on her spine.
“We may also need to discuss some things,” Rosaline breathed gently.
“Does now seem the correct time?” Owen asked, voice muffled as his lips moved against her hips.
“Well, there was news yesterday that I have not had time to tell you,” Rosaline said, trying not to be distracted by the feeling of his tongue moving against her skin. “You recall that Marc has been courting Miss Boyle?”
“I recall something of the sort,” Owen said sarcastically. Rosaline smirked at her husband’s tone. He had been very wearied by Rosaline and Marc’s constant discussions about his intentions and hopes for his long-standing friendship with Miss Boyle.
“Well, he has declared his intentions,” Rosaline said breathlessly as Owen turned his attentive lips to her inner thighs. “In the newspaper. He wrote a letter.”
“Oh, really?” Owen looked up, and then shook his head, pressing his cheek against her belly as if to listen to the child within. “Nobody does it like you do, my dearest Rose.”
“You flatterer,” Rosaline giggled. “You hopeless romantic. Who would ever believe you once had the reputation of a rake?”
“Hush, you,” Owen said in mock consternation, pressing a kiss to her swollen belly. “I am focusing on my second favorite person. Hello, my sweet flower.”
Rosaline glowed with joy and happiness to watch Owen caress her belly, to speak to the most beloved child within. Almost as if the child knew he was speaking to it, the babe inside rolled and moved under his touch. Owen’s face was a picture of joy, of delight, and contentment.
“My precious flower,” he whispered, caressing her belly in wonderment. “How I cannot wait to see your face.”
“You know, if our child is a boy then you may regret calling him your precious flower,” Rosaline said with an indulgent smile.
“She is a precious flower,” Owen said, and Rosaline giggled. Owen was very hopeful that their growing child was a little girl. The only names he had picked out were female, and though she knew he would love a boy and an heir to the Lennox line, she appreciated what he was doing. As the only female child to her parents, she knew he wanted her to know that any first-born girl of theirs would be just as loved and cherished. “What do you think of the name Lily?”
“You only pick floral names,” Rosaline teased.
“That is not true,” Owen objected, kissing her belly again. “I also liked the name Aphrodite.”
“Very practical,” Rosaline said, rolling her eyes but reaching down to stroke her husband’s hair. “I was thinking . . . what of the name James for our son?”
Owen’s eyes shot up to catch hers. She had been nervous about mentioning her idea of naming their first-born son for Owen’s much beloved, lost father. She had hoped it would not carry sad connotations for him, but from the wide smile that appeared on her husband’s face, she could tell he was not displeased.
“I like it,” Owen said softly, caressing the slowly moving child inside her. “James. Hello, little duke. Or little flower. I love you.”
“We love you too,” Rosaline whispered. “So much, my darling. We would follow you anywhere.”
“Ah, no,” Owen said, rising up on his arms to hover above her lips, a wide, joyous smile playing on his lips. “Your days of following in my footsteps are long over.”
“Oh, really?” Rosaline whispered, closing her eyes as her husband’s lips ghosted gently against her own. She tried to memorize the moment, their bare skin, their moving child, their perfect, lovely family so close together. She hoped it would always be this way, prayed it would be, forever.
“Yes,” Owen said, kissing her gently and smiling against her lips. “Now we shall walk everywhere together. Side by side.”
“Side by side,” Rosaline repeated, wrapping her arms around her husband. “Forever.”
If you want to know what lies ahead in our story, you may want to get the sequel…
Peter Humphries used to have it all, basking in the warmth of love and success. But, alas, fate’s fickle fingers conspired against him, as war took his sight and shattered his world. With a caring heart, Medea Lingfield sought to alleviate Peter’s burden by offering him comfort in her embrace. Despite being cruelly rejected by the man she had grown to care about, she resolved to put the past behind her and move on. But fate had other plans, and when Peter and Medea cross paths again due to a scandalous turn of events, the dormant embers of their passion are reignited. However, when a third person is introduced into the equation, their love may not survive the test…
Edward awoke to the sound of birds chirping in the trees by his chamber window, the sunlight peeking in through the branches and warming the bedsheets. He turned over to see Josephine laying there, still peacefully slumbering, her swollen belly still detectable even under the thick blanket over her as he watched her chest slowly rise and fall.
I can’t believe that this is real, Edward thought as he took a finger and gently brushed a wayward curl out of her face. Josephine stirred a little, and her eyes fluttered open, her face sleepily turning toward his as a soft smile crept across her face.
“Good morning,” Edward said as he gently kissed her forehead.
“Morning,” she replied, looking at him peculiarly. “Were you just watching me sleep?”
“For a moment,” Edward replied.
“Why?” Josephine replied with a quiet little chuckle.
“Even angels look gorgeous while they slumber,” Edward replied.
“Oh, stop!” Josephine tittered.
“It’s true,” Edward replied, setting upon his arm. “I was just thinking to myself how lucky I am to have you in my life.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Josephine teased.
“Not really,” Edward replied. “A year ago, I would have never thought I’d be married at all, let alone married to the love of my life and having a child of my own.”
“You mean a child of our own,” Josephine said with a grin.
“You knew exactly what I meant,” Edward groaned.
“Yes, but I am doing all the baking, so I feel like I should get some of the credit,” Josephine laughed as she struggled to get up. Edward grasped her hand in his and helped her up, and she sat at the edge of the bed, looking back at Edward. “Speaking of baking, I smell muffins!”
“If you keep eating only muffins, you’ll turn into one,” Edward joked.
“I cannot help what the baby wants, Edward,” Josephine replied, using the posts of the bed to get to her feet and go over to the dresser to get ready for the day. “Come along now; we’ll be late. My father is supposed to be here soon.”
The two of them got dressed, and Edward peeked down the hallway before motioning for Josephine to follow him, taking her arm in his as they headed to the dining hall. Edward often felt a bit devious, sometimes sharing the same bed with one another, but he couldn’t bear to sleep without her. Most of the ton married for status, and he hadn’t, however, so he figured maybe that was the difference in the mix everyone else was missing. Not everyone was lucky enough to share the whirlwind romance he and Josephine shared. And he considered himself to be one of the luckiest men in the ton, if not the word for it.
“Good morning!” Andrew boisterously greeted Edward and Josephine, smiling at them impishly. Around the table in their usual spots were Edward and Andrew’s mother and Josephine’s father and aunt, all beaming at the couple as they made it into the room.
“Oh my, Josephine, you do glow ever so bright, my dear,” Josephine’s father said as he stood up and went to her, kissing her gently on the cheek.
“Thank you, father,” Josephine said as she put her hand on her belly.
“Please come sit,” Andrew said as he motioned to the table.
“Yes, you need your nutrients,” Josephine’s father said as he and Edward helped her to her seat. “My grandchild must be big and strong!”
“I’m so glad you decided to come home and grace us with your presence,” Edward said as he pulled her seat out and helped her push it back in. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to be here to welcome our pride and joy into the world.”
“Me, miss the birth of my first niece or nephew? I wouldn’t miss that for anything!” Andrew replied. “Missing my own wedding, however, that obviously happened.”
Everyone burst into laughter, and breakfast began as maids and waitstaff scurried around, serving tea, muffins, tea cakes, bacon and the like. The room became silent at first as everyone sleepily savoured their meal, but as their stomachs began to fill out a bit, they became a bit more conversational.
“So, Andrew, how is Paris treating you?” Edward asked, curious as to how his brother’s artistic endeavours were going. Though he did write home frequently since giving up his duties to the Dukedom in their entirety, it was mostly asking how everyone else was doing, not talking about his own life.
“I’m still finding my niche, making friends, learning,” Andrew replied. “It’s been an amazing experience thus far.”
“Have you sold any paintings?” Josephine asked.
“Quite a few, actually,” Andrew said with a nod. “I was surprised myself. But they say I have a knack for portraits especially.”
“Really?” Edward asked. “I always thought your area of expertise was landscapes.”
“Yes, well, after being in Paris for nearly a year, I’ve learned quite a few more skills.”
“That’s lovely, Andrew,” Josephine said with a smile.
“In fact, once the baby is born, I would love to paint a portrait of the three of you as a gift!” Andrew said with a grin. “What better present to receive from the world’s most talented uncle?”
Andrew’s face fell a bit as everyone laughed, and Edward moved quickly to right it, proud of his twin for following his dreams.
“That would be excellent, Andrew,” Edward replied. “I truly hope our baby takes after you in all the best ways.”
“Really?” Andrew said, placing a hand to his chest.
“Yes, really,” Edward replied with a nod. “You’re the best brother a man could ask for, and you are a man of many talents.”
“As are you,” Andrew replied. “I have no doubt in my mind you will make a fine father.” The comment warmed Edward’s heart, and he smiled big and bright as one of the waitstaff refilled his cup of Earl Grey.
“Thank you,” Edward replied as he thought of the two of them growing up with one another flowed through his mind, their father the more stoic of the family but ever the supportive parent. “I hope so; those are immense shoes to fill.
“I know so,” Andrew said. “Father would be proud of the man you’ve become.”
“I think he’d be proud of you too, you know,” Edward said, and the room got really quiet.
“I-I don’t know about that,” Andrew said as he looked down at his plate.
“I do,” their mother chimed in. “I think he would understand.”
“Really?” Andrew said, glancing up at her.
“I agree,” Edward replied. “He loved the both of us, and he always loved your work.” Andrew smiled with a nod as they all finished breakfast, and Edward felt at peace. He was truly thankful for his life, family, and child to come.
***
After breakfast, and everyone had dispersed, Josephine caught a spell of nausea and decided some fresh air was in order.
“Would you like to join me outside?” Josephine asked as she peeked her head into Edward’s study. He was sitting at his desk with several papers in hand, a pair of reading glasses upon his nose.
“I would, my love, but I am behind on these ledgers,” Edward groaned.
“All right,” Josephine sighed, pouting her lip slightly.
“I’m sorry,” Edward said as he took his glasses off and put them down for a moment, walking around the desk. He opened his arms, and Josephine leaned in, breathing in his cologne as she savoured his warm embrace. “I promise we will spend time together later.”
“I love you,” Josephine said to Edward, and he kissed her forehead.
“I love you too,” Edward replied as he begrudgingly shuffled back behind his desk. Josephine walked out of his office and down the stairs to the lobby, heading out the front door and hanging left to go to the garden—her favorite place in all of Richmond Manor.
Though it wasn’t the garden she frolicked in within her youth, it was a big, beautiful sanctuary nonetheless, a place that her mother truly would have loved.
Josephine walked in the sub for a while, the warmth of its rays gently caressing her shoulders. Josephine started to get tired, her feet sore, and she decided to sit on a stone bench by one of the rose bushes to rest.
She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, the scent of the various flowers flooding her nose and smiled. In her mind, she saw her mother there, a grin upon her face as she grabbed Josephine’s hand, and they ran through the garden, giggling away. Her mother called out her name quietly at first and then got louder…
“Josephine?” another voice called out, startling her from her daydream. Josephine opened her eyes to see her mother-in-law standing there, watching her with a curious look upon her face.
“W-what?” Josephine asked, startled away from her daydream to see her mother-in-law standing there, watching her curiously.
“Are you all right?” she asked, sitting next to her on the bench.
“Oh! Yes, I am. I was just enjoying the sun and got a bit tired during my little journey ’round the bushes,” Josephine replied.
“Ah yes, the wonders of being with children,” Edward’s mother replied.
“It must have been even worse with twins,” Josephine grunted as she adjusted her position. “My feet are swollen, my back hurts, I’m always tired. With two in the oven, it must have been twice the fun.”
“You know, it was a bit difficult,” Edward’s mother said with a nod, a grin forming across her face. “Finding a way to sleep with a huge mound on my front wasn’t easy.”
“I bet not,” Josephine chuckled. “I have trouble as it is.” The two of them sat there for a moment in silence, enjoying one another’s company. But then suddenly, Josephine thought of a question, one that she’d been longing to ask since Edward was revealed to not be Andrew.
“Did you ever get the boys confused?” Josephine asked. Edward’s mother looked at her and laughed, shaking her head. She stood up, went to Josephine’s belly, and gently put her hand there.
“Well, I suppose if you have twins of your own, you’ll find out…won’t you?” Edward’s mother said as the two of them giggled, enjoying the flowers with one another. Edward’s mother took some branches and white roses from the garden, and Josephine watched carefully as she fashioned them into a crown, setting it on top of Josephine’s head when she was done, smiling big and bright.
“Ah, yes, that looks so beautiful on you,” Edward’s mother said.
“Thank you,” Josephine beamed. “I feel beautiful in it like I belong in a painting!
“That you do, my sweet,” Edward chimed in, surprising the both of them as he walked up beside them. “You should wear one when Andrew paints you, I and our baby once it’s arrived.”
“Oh my! I didn’t even hear you approaching,” Edward’s mother said, putting a hand on her chest. “You nearly gave me a start.”
“My apologies,” Edward said with a chuckle. “I just saw the two of you from my window, the two beauties in my life, and I felt compelled to come down and see the two of you.”
“I thought you were busy with work?” Josephine asked.
“I was,” Edward said as he looked around the garden, breathing in the fresh air around them. “But with how gorgeous it is out, how could I stay stuffed up in my office all day?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Josephine said as Edward leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, and she felt a wave of goosebumps pill on her skin. “If there is one thing Andrew’s taught me…it’s that you only live once. I am sure that the ledgers can wait for a spell.”
Josephine’s heart swelled as Edward sat next to her, taking her hand in his with a warm smile. As they all sat out in the beautiful gardens of Richmond manor where Josephine called home, she realized something very important.
Since her mother had died, Josephine felt at ease for the first time. She was married, a baby on the way, ready to start a family of her own. Her father was doing much better, and even Aunt Mary had found a suitor in Lord John, who had gotten along famously. Even Andrew was at peace, working on his passions. Everyone she loved was doing well, and her life was much more perfect than she could have ever hoped for.
“Goodness, I think this might be my worst model yet.” Bridget feigned disappointment and frustration as she shook her head at the two-year-old child running around the room, completely oblivious to what Bridget was trying to do. She lowered her paintbrush and gave Evan a look of exasperation, which only made him laugh.
“I don’t know what you expected, in all honesty,” he said to her. “Sarah is only two and you know that she is only growing more and more rambunctious with age. Did you truly think she would sit still long enough for you to paint a portrait of her?”
“No, I would not be so foolish,” Bridget defended herself. “Which is why I asked you to come along with us. So that you could hold her still.”
“Ah, how you wound me. And here I thought you wished to have my company.”
“That is only a small part of it, yes.” When she caught him shaking his head in disappointment, she waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, there is no need to be hurt by such a thing. You know I love you and cherish your company at all times. Now, could you put her on your knee so that I may get an understanding of what pose I should paint her in?”
Evan chuckled at that, even as he rolled his eyes. Bridget wasn’t surprised he found this amusing but she truly had high hopes that she would be able to finally capture her beautiful daughter in watercolours.
Now that she was attempting it though, Bridget was beginning to realize what foolish hope she had had harboured. She watched patiently as Evan tried chasing Sarah around.
The small toddler was bolstered on by the chase and began running even faster, trying to get away from her father as if her life depended on it. Bridget felt a smile tug at her lips as she watched the scene.
Evan soon caught the squirming child. Sarah’s excited laughter filled the room and Bridget smiled in full.
“Hold her still for just a second,” Bridget said eagerly, though she hadn’t a clue how she would be able to capture anything if Sarah kept squirming in Evan’s arms the way she was doing right now. Bridget knew that she was not an art master like Evan. She would not be able to pull of such a feat.
Sarah’s excited squeals soon turned into screams, forcing Evan to put her back down. As soon as her tiny feet touched the ground, she began running around again, grabbing anything she could find with her little hands.
“Perhaps we should move this to the gardens,” Evan suggested, coming to Bridget’s side. “She will have much more space to run around in there.”
“Yes, perhaps.” Bridget stared at her painting in slight dismay. “I had such high hopes for this.”
“You can do it, my love. You only need the dedication it takes for your muse to do what you want them to.”
“Is that what you did with me?” she asked. “Did you remain patient until I did as you wished?”
“I did not have to. I painted you from memory, if you recalled. And as a master at the craft, I would suggest that you do not try to do the same.”
“Oh?” Bridget turned to face him, raising a challenging brow. Evan’s eyes shimmered with humour. “It sounds as if you’re saying I am not as good as you, Evan.”
“That is exactly what I am saying. Was I unclear the first time?”
She laughed, shaking her head at him. “Well, I concede to that fact. You certainly are much better at this than I am. Why, I would not be surprised if you could paint her looking as adorable as she is right now without caring about the fact that she’s going to get up two seconds later.”
They both looked over at Sarah who was now sitting in the corner of the room, interested in the edge of a rug. Her brown curls brushed the back of her neck when she moved, and she brushed at it in irritation. The sight made Bridget laugh.
Though she was only two, she’d developed such a vibrant personality that every day was an interesting one because of her. She had the ability to charm just about anyone, which included both Bridget’s and Evan’s fathers.
Once, they had both happened to visit at the same time and the only reason they had remained in the room with each other, acting civilly, was because Sarah was there with them.
She was a breath of fresh air and Bridget loved her dearly. She lifted her gaze to Evan, who was still watching their daughter, and felt excitement mount in her as she thought of what she planned on telling him.
“She is tired,” Evan pointed out.
Bridget nodded. “She is, and is forcing herself to keep awake. I shall ring the nursemaid.”
As soon as they said those words, Sarah’s eyes drifted and she nearly toppled over before she caught herself. She remembered a second later that she had been playing and she resumed her rampage throughout the room. Just as she rushed by the both of them, Evan scooped her into his arms and cradled her like she was still a baby.
“It’ s time to put you down for a nap,” he announced.
The word ‘nap’ sent Sarah into a tirade, and she tried, but failed, to get out of her father’s arms. When the nursemaid came, she calmed down and allowed the older woman to lead her out of the room.
Once they were gone, Bridget let out a sigh. “I love that child dearly but she does have a way of tiring me out. Since coming into this room, I have taken this seat and haven’t stood up since, yet she has exhausted me.”
“That is what I’m here for,” Evan told her tenderly and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Bridget’s heart swelled with love at the show of affection. She took his hand and pulled herself to a stand.
“Then there is something I must tell you,” she said with a broad grin.
“What’s that?”
She waited a moment, if only to be a little dramatic, and then she did the same thing she’d done nearly three years ago. She took his hand and put it against her stomach, waiting for him to catch on.
Realization dawned in Evan’s eyes a second or two later. “Again?” he breathed.
Bridget nodded. “Again.”
“God, how is this possible?”
The question caught her off guard. “How is what possible?”
“How can you continue to make me happier and happier with each passing day?” He pulled her close to him, kissing her on the forehead, then on the cheeks, then finally on the lips. “We’re going to have another child?” Evan asked, just to make sure.
She nodded; her arms wrapped around him as well. “We’re going to have another child,” she confirmed. “I can only hope this time it is much easier to give birth to him.”
“Him?”
“Yes, I have the strongest feeling that our next child will be a boy. What do you think?”
“I think I do not know, and I do not care. As long as they are happy, I am.”
“And what of the Grey family legacy?” she asked. “Don’t you want an heir?”
“I would be more content with you having a safe and easy time giving birth. Anything else is secondary.”
She grinned, resting her ear against his heart. “Well, we need not worry about that for now. For now, let us learn to keep up with the child we do have before another comes along and they overwhelm us.”
“That is quite a possibility, isn’t it?” he said with a chuckle.
She didn’t say anything in response, just letting him hold her. The moment was peaceful, and Bridget knew that there would be more peaceful moments like this ahead of them, with a family that she could call her own.
She couldn’t wait to tell her children the story of how this handsome man had come to change her mind on the thought of love and marriage. Their love was borne of a miracle, and she planned to hold on to it forever.
Ernest always told her that motherhood looked good on her, but as she stood in the mirror, analyzing the blue dress she had selected for the occasion, she couldn’t help but feel shabby.
“You’re absolutely glowing,” Molly called to her as she entered the room with tea.
“I look like a whale,” Helena moped.
“You certainly do not,” Molly snickered. “Though, I suppose all women feel that way in the late stages of carrying a child, don’t they? You look to be due any day now.”
“Not soon enough,” Helena sighed. “Though, who am I kidding? I am not looking forward to giving birth again. It was too dramatic and painful with Simon.”
Molly gently pushed Helena to sit down at her vanity so she could do her hair. “Yes, Your Grace, but it will all be worth it. Besides, I have heard that girls are easier to deliver.”
“Oh, you and your theories,” Helena laughed.
“Well, I was right about Simon, wasn’t I?” she grinned.
“That you were,” Helena agreed.
“Do you have names picked out?”
Helena nodded and rested a hand on her stomach. Picking Simon’s name had been such a chore, the two of them stressed that it had to be the perfect name. The little thing didn’t even have one until he was already a month old. This time, however, it felt easier. It was less pressure than their first, as Simon would be the heir to the dukedom. “If it’s a boy, we have agreed on Alexander.”
“A strong name. I believe it means defender of men.” Molly nodded along as she finished arranging Helena’s hair.
“And if it’s a girl, Caroline.”
Molly rested a hand on her chest as they held one another’s gaze in the mirror. “Oh, that’s a beautiful name, Your Grace. I absolutely love it.”
“Thank you, Molly,” Helena smiled. “Between you and me… I have a feeling it’s a girl too.”
“Well, I’m sure Caroline will be arriving any day now to prove us right.”
The two shared a giggle and moved out into the hallway. The chatter and laughs of people gathered below could already be heard. Everyone was arriving to celebrate Ernest and Helena’s third anniversary. Normally people only celebrated the landmark years, but Helena and Ernest were simply too in love and hosted a dinner party every year.
As she approached the stairs, her face was pulled into a huge grin at the sight of Ernest and Simon. The little one looked just like his father, only with Helena’s dark hair. The duke and his heir stood at the banister, Ernest whispering to the little boy as he pointed to random objects. They approached and Ernest looked over and shot her a loving expression.
“You are a sight for sore eyes,” he purred to her.
“I think that’s the two of you. How charming!” she exclaimed as she noticed they were in matching navy jackets with gold trim. She fanned her eyes, the sight making her emotions spike and her eyes become watery with tears. Another reason she was sure the child in her stomach was a girl, her emotions had been uncontrollable this time around.
“I thought you would like it,” he chuckled.
“I simply love it,” she gushed, kissing her husband’s cheek before her son’s. “We will need to make this happen again for his birthday in the summer. I can’t believe he will be three in just a matter of months.”
“About nine months,” Ernest chuckled. “He just had a birthday a few months ago, my love.”
“It’s still too soon,” she sniffled.
With Simon on his hip, Ernest offered his other arm to his wife. “We have guests waiting. Shall we join them?”
She nodded and fanned her eyes some more. They descended the stairs and wandered over to the dining room. The room was filled with loved ones. Her father, Aunt Martha, Ernest’s father and his wife Victoria, Uncle Edward, Anthony, and even a couple of friends Helena had made during her time being duchess with their children. She was brought back to the evening of their wedding and how they had spent their evenings separate and alone. Then, just three years later, they had almost too many people for their table, with a child and another on the way. How lovely life could turn out to be sometimes.
They took their seats, Simon glued to his father as he took the head of the table. Helena had witnessed gentlemen of his status be cruel to their children in her life, but never Ernest. He was so gentle and patient with little Simon, it warmed her heart to see it. Never did he grow irritable with the child, even when he climbed all over him while he was talking or spilled important papers in the office. Ernest thrived as a father, and often said that they should just keep having them until they couldn’t anymore. Helena loved the sentiment but wasn’t sure her body could handle much more.
She rubbed her stomach as the baby kicked away while the meal was served. Once the servants left the room, Ernest stood, Simon still on his hip. The entire room turned to him with smiles and sparkling eyes.
“I would like to thank everyone for joining us here today. I’m sure you all may be growing tired of my frequent speeches about my darling wife,” he began, the room letting out a low rumble of laughter. “However, when you find a wife as lovely as mine, you simply want to share that love with the world.”
He cleared his throat and adjusted Simon slightly before he launched into his speech. His eyes held Helena’s gaze and never faltered as he spoke. “It was three years ago this very day that before the Ton and God, you joined me as my wife. I recall that neither of us were thrilled about the idea,” he chuckled a bit, an easy smile stretching his lips. “Our hearts were torn with wanting to remain as we had before in our own separate lives or trying out this thing called marriage. I was so torn about the two, I had kissed your cheek instead of your lips because I was too busy overthinking it all.”
“And now, as I look back on that day,” he continued, “It doesn’t even feel like that was us. I, the silent and brooding Duke of Atholl, and you, the timid and flustered daughter of Baron Guthrie. You once called us the most unlikely pair in all of London, and my darling, you were right. However, I wouldn’t have it any other way. As the last three years of my life have been nothing but unbridled joy and hope. The kind that writers inscribe long poems and even entire novels about but had always felt too fictional to ever be real, at least for me.”
He had to clear his throat to keep back the tears that were beginning to mist his eyes. “You have taught me what love is meant to be and have given me the most unconditional of all loves,” he said, looking to his son with a gentle expression. He then picked up his glass of wine and raised it in the air. “Helena Marie Cecil, I love you and our children endlessly. I would like to make a toast, yet again and every year to come, for a lifetime of loving celebrations just like this.”
“Cheers!” the guests all sounded. Everyone clinked their glasses as Ernest pulled Helena to her feet. There, in front of all their guests, he kissed her lovingly and deeply. The old Helena would have blushed horribly at such a public display of affection, but she was well past those sheepish days. She knew in that moment that it was to replace the kiss she should have gotten three years ago. Helena kissed her husband back and when she pulled back to look deeply into his eyes, little Simon pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. They burst into laughter as she kissed her son back.
They settled in to enjoy their meal. The room was filled with happy chatter and laughter, and Helena just didn’t think that life could ever be better. While there had been emotional highs and lows through their years together thus far, the lows were merely blips – tiny drops in an ocean of joy. Never would there be a perfect relationship. There would always be miscommunication and disagreements from time to time, but what gave Helena hope was their ambition.
Their ambition to be better. Their ambition to make the other as happy as possible. The ambition to ensure their children had two role models of strength and love to look up to and strive to be. It would be these forces within them that drove them to their happily ever after, the ones that her aunt told her were for novels.
Helena’s eyes shifted about the room at that thought, looking over to her aunt. Aunt Martha simply didn’t seem to age, did she? She was still as beautiful as she had always been, with only the addition of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that remarkably made her look even more distinguished.
She was laughing heartily at something Uncle Edward was saying, her hand batting away whatever it was. “Oh, you are simply too much Edward,” she giggled.
“Oh, I assure you. I am more than you can imagine,” Edward replied.
It was then that she saw the gleam in both of their eyes and Helena’s heart pattered in her chest. It was a gleam of attraction, of companionship, of interest. She thought about how sad Aunt Martha had been when she had talked about her belated husband. How loveless her life had been, and how she had hated the thought of being part of the reason Helena had been thrust into a similar situation.
They had long since put that behind them, as Helena was endlessly grateful for the life her aunt had not so subtly or patiently shoved her into. Truly, there wasn’t another reality that Helena could dream up that she would be as happy as she was as Duchess of Atholl. However, Helena hadn’t given much thought to Aunt Martha’s side of things. Of how she had been in a loveless marriage, lost her husband, and had spent the last couple of years alone – that was, when she wasn’t visiting and doting over little Simon.
She recalled how she had seen that look on their faces before, when they had chatted in such a way at their very first dinner party together. At the time, she had taken it as two lively souls feeding off one another’s energy, but she saw it then for what it really was. Mutual attraction.
Helena felt a gaze on her, and she peered over to her husband and nodded discreetly in their direction. She watched as he analyzed and recognized the same thing she did. Ernest shot her a quizzical look, and she rested her hand on his, giving a little shrug. “It’s never too late for love.”
Ernest nodded and looked over the table fondly. Helena hoped that their love and union would spark something more between the two. They truly did deserve love and she just had a feeling they really were a match made in Heaven.
The group enjoyed their meal and took turns telling stories to one another. Simon made his rounds, toddling about the table to visit his grandfathers and great aunt and great uncle. He even sat atop Anthony’s lap, and Helena found herself hoping he would soon have a wife and children of his own so that Simon and Caroline would have little friends. There was no rush, though. What Helena cared about most of all, was that everyone was happy. And by the looks on the faces there at their dining table, her wish was a reality.
How lucky they all were to have one another, and how fortunate she and Ernest were that their unlikely and tumultuous relationship had blossomed and grown to new heights, like the most fertile and lush garden of all. She hoped that their mothers were both smiling down on them then, joining in on their celebration in spirit. For that would be the only thing Helena could think of to make the moment even more magical and special than it was.
The couple held hands under the table and laughed well into the night with their guests, as they would for the years and decades to come.
Miles paced back and forth outside of their chamber, from where Rose’s moans and groans sounded. They sent chills down his spine, and he shuddered. He had to fight a strong urge to burst through the doors and demand to see his wife. However, he knew that he couldn’t.
If he did, he wouldn’t just have to contend with Lady Mary and Lady Hudsingham, but also with his own mother, since all three of the ladies were present with Rose as she gave birth to their very first child.
Not that he could blame them. His mother had been exceedingly excited at the prospect of finally welcoming the long-desired heir, and Lady Hudsingham – or Marianne, as Rose called her stepmother – had grown closer than he’d ever thought possible to Rose, especially since they’d announced that she was with child.
“You really must sit, Lord Lambury,” Rose’s father said behind him. “You will wear yourself out. These things can take a very long time.”
“How long?” Miles asked, exasperated. “It has already been two hours.”
In the corner, Robert chuckled.
“My lord, I hate to be the one to have to give you this news, but when my wife had our first child, she was in labor for no less than fourteen hours.”
“Fourteen hours is nothing,” Lord Hudsingham said as he crossed the hall and sat beside Robert. “Tabitha was in labor for almost twenty hours when she had Rose.”
Miles grew woozy at the prospect of having to wait another eighteen hours or more for the birth of his child.
“Must you upset him?” Hetty asked as she entered. She seated herself beside her stepfather, who shook his head.
“I’m only telling him the realities of what might happen.”
Miles took a deep breath and pressed his ear against his wife’s chamber door. Low groans and cries emitted from within, and he turned to her stepsister, who had been living with them for the better part of the year.
“Hetty, please will you go inside and see to her? There is a much better chance that the three ladies will allow you to enter rather than me.”
The young girl got up and made her way across the hallway. She stopped and smiled at him. “I assure you Rose will be just fine.”
He appreciated her words, as he’d appreciated her presence in their home. Rose had been delighted at the close connection she and Hetty had formed, and it was a delight to see it. Hetty knocked on the door, but the moment she entered, shouts to leave rang out. Undeterred, she entered.
“Faith, it is Hetty,” Lady Hudsingham called out. “You may enter, of course. But none of the gentlemen on the other side of the door.”
Rose’s father chuckled. “You do not cross my wife. When she has set her mind on something, she is determined.”
“As is Lady Lambury,” Robert agreed. “My lord, maybe a cigar?”
Miles shook his head. “Cigars are for when there is something to celebrate. As yet, there is nothing to celebrate. Although I hope there will be soon.”
“Well.” Robert bent down and retrieved something from underneath his chair. “If we can’t smoke, then we shall drink.” He raised a bottle of whiskey, and Lord Hudsingham clapped.
“A splendid idea.”
“No glasses,” Miles commented when he joined them.
Reginald Hudson shrugged. “And that is a problem? Give it here, Robert,” he said with a smirk.
He watched as Rose’s father unscrewed the cap and took a swig before handing it to Miles. The warm liquid ran down his throat, and he did momentarily feel better as the whiskey settled in his stomach.
Robert took a long swallow before handing it back to Rose’s father. They passed the bottle around another two or three times, and then Lord Hudsingham handed it back to Robert and sank into his seat.
“Nothing better than a little swig here or there to drive away from the sorrows. And I have had enough of those this past year.” He rolled his eyes, and Miles nodded in an understanding manner.
“Have you had any word from them?” he asked quietly.
“No, but I heard an on dit that they headed for Scotland. Do not tell Lady Hudsingham, for she shall suffer apoplexy at the thought of Letty getting married at Gretna Green to an actor.”
He shuddered. Six months prior, Letty and Lady Charlotte had joined forces and run away. But they hadn’t gone alone. It seemed that for some time, both Lady Charlotte and Letty had kept company with two actors from the Theater Royal. Since these would not have been proper connections, they’d taken it upon themselves to run away – never to be seen again. At least for now.
To say that Lord and Lady Hudsingham were mortified by this development was an understatement. However, Miles couldn’t deny that the family had been much more at peace since Letty’s departure.
Lady Hudsingham, who had already warmed up to Rose and treated Hetty better now too, had leaned on her daughters, as well as Lady Mary, another frequent visitor to Stockworth Hall.
Still, between Lord Tibley’s constant bad-mouthing of the Hudson family, Letty’s running away, and Humphrey’s trial, the two families had found themselves in the scandal sheets more often than any of them wished.
However, none of these things mattered anymore. The entire family, as well as Lady Mary and her husband, Lord Vicary, had assembled at Stockworth Hall for yet another Christmas, and this one they would all be celebrating together as a family – with one new addition.
Miles let out a deep sigh. “I do wish my father were here. No offense to the both of you, you have been wonderful companions these past few hours, but I do wish my father were here.”
“He is, my lord. In spirit he is. I know it’s not the same, but I hope you can draw comfort from knowing how much he loved you and how proud he would be of you.”
“I am in full agreement with Robert, Lord Lambury. You have a beautiful home, a wife who adores you, and you have brought his killer to justice and restored peace to my family. In addition, your father’s business thrives. Yes, I dare say he’d be proud of you.”
His father-in-law’s kind words touched him, and he could only hope that they were true.
“I know nobody will ever be able to replace your father, but you have myself and Robert, and you can always lean on us. Just as Rose can lean on Marianne, now that their connection has been firmly established, and your mother.”
Miles smiled. His mother had grown close to Rose, and the two adored one another. Thus it hadn’t surprised him in the least when his mother had announced that she’d be at Rose’s side for the birth.
He glanced at the clock. Rose had been in labor for almost three hours now, and after a simple pregnancy, he was in good hopes that she would deliver a healthy child. However, the helplessness vexed him. He’d suffered nightmares upon nightmares about all the things that might go wrong, and they came back now to haunt him.
As if reading his thoughts, his father-in-law placed a hand on his forearm.
“I can see the worry written upon your face. Trust me, all of this will be forgotten the moment you hold your baby in your arms and…”
The door to Rose’s chamber opened and Hetty emerged first, followed by her mother. Both beamed brightly and clasped each other by the hand.
“The children are born!” Lady Hadsingham announced with a bright smile. Miles froze in place.
Had she said children? He looked to Robert and his father-in-law for confirmation, but the both of them looked just as confused as he was.
“Did you say children, dear?” Lord Hudsingham inquired.
“It is true. There are two babies. I said all along that Rose was much bigger than I thought was normal, but I was censured for it,” Hetty declared.
“Hetty was right, Lord Lambury. You are a father to a healthy boy and girl.” With a smile, she added, “I did have a suspicion, given that I had twins myself, and I shared this with Rose, but we decided to keep it to ourselves in case we were wrong.”
The earth shook underneath Miles’s feet, and Robert jumped up and grabbed him by the arm before he could fall.
“Twins… Twins?”
“Indeed,” his mother said as she exited. “We have our heir and a rosy-cheeked girl.” The delight in her eyes warmed Miles’s heart.
His mother wrapped her arms around him, and her warm embrace steadied him.
“Mother, can I see her?” he asked as he peered down at her.
“Of course, you can. Go on, son. Go on.” She stepped aside as Lady Hudsingham and Hetty moved away from the door too.
As he entered Rose’s chamber, he canvassed the room. Lady Mary stood beside Rose and propped up her pillow, while Rose glanced up, a beaming smile on her lips and a baby in each arm. Her hair stuck to her face, and she looked clammy as if from sweat, but the happiness vibrated off her.
“Miles! Miles, can you believe it? A boy and a girl? Isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t it the most glorious of presents?”
He joined her side just as Lady Mary excused herself to give them privacy, and when she closed the door behind her, he clambered on the bed.
“I cannot believe it. Look at them. They look like a perfect mixture of both of us,” he whispered as he took in their little reddish faces. Each baby had a shock of dark-blonde hair. He watched the children as they lay swaddled on Rose, who looked from one to the other.
“The boy has your eyes, and the girl has mine. But you’ll see when they wake,” Rose whispered. Gently, Miles draped one arm across Rose’s stomach and nestled beside her on the pillow.
“We are complete now. Our family is complete,” he marveled.
Rose looked up at him, and the love in her eyes made his heart swell.
“We are. There’s only one question we must answer now,” she said with a grin. “What shall we name them? I do have an idea.”
“Me too,” Miles agreed. “Given that they came to us together, there are only two names that would suit.”
“Tabitha and Auric, after our parents,” Rose said quietly, tears in her eyes.
“Yes, Tabitha and Auric. Those are our children. And our parents will be their guardian angels, always keeping them safe from harm,” Miles added as his eyes also filled with tears of happiness.
Then, as he lay beside Rose, their children in their arms, he looked up at the sky and realized that Robert had been right. His father was looking down on him, as was Rose’s mother – and they surely were smiling at the happiness the union had brought forth.
