Extended Epilogues

By late autumn of their first year of marriage, Eliza was with child. They would have a wonderful, healthy baby boy or girl by the beginning of spring. Matthew didn’t think that his heart couldn’t have been any fuller than it was.

Only, it still swelled even more as he watched his beloved wife float about as she prepared for the first ball they would be hosting that evening in their new home.

The couple had decided to purchase a lovely townhouse not too far away from his family’s estate. Matthew had given Eliza leave to decorate it as she saw fit, and he was more than pleased with her simple yet elegant taste. The decorating was completed last month, and they, along with Matilda, had moved in.

“Do you think we’ll have enough food?” Eliza asked him as she fussed over the floral arrangements nestled in the nooks of the side of the ballroom.

“I think we have enough to feed all of London, not just our attendees,” Matthew called over to her, smiling.

“What about the beverages? We have ratafia, lemonade, and champagne enough, but should I have ordered more brandy for the smoking-room?” she asked, peering around the enormous urn.

Matthew paced over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist to rest his palms against her slightly rounded belly. “Everything is in place. The flowers are perfect. The food and drink will be more than sufficient. Everything will go smoothly, my love. There is nothing else to do but find something to occupy us until we need to change into our finery.”

“Occupy ourselves?” she asked coyly. “I can think of many ways we can occupy ourselves. We could oversee the polishing of the silver or retire to your study to go over plans for the repairs to your country seat.”

He pressed a fingertip to her lips to silence her, then leaned in and replaced it with his mouth. His teasing kisses soon became more urgent, and he moved to place her back against the wall.

Matthew’s hands roamed over Eliza’s body as his lips made their way across her jaw to move down the column of her neck.

“You know, My Lord, I am already with child. This wanton display is entirely superfluous,” she teased.

“I beg to differ, my dear wife,” Matthew said, nuzzling his nose behind her ear, making her shiver. “I can think of myriad reasons why making love to you is anything but unnecessary. In fact, I believe it is very necessary, vital even that I take you upstairs right now and show you just how essential it is.”

He gave her a wicked grin and took her hand as he practically dragged her to the staircase. Once they entered their bedchamber, Matthew made quick work of divesting them of their clothes. He eased Eliza onto the bed and paused to lovingly caress her belly.

“How is little Lydia doing this afternoon?” he asked playfully.

“So you’ve decided it is a girl now, have you?” she teased.

“Perhaps. Or maybe it is a boy, little Mathias.”

She laughed. “We may as well name him Matthew if you want to call the baby something so similar to yours.”

Matthew laughed with her, but soon all talk of baby names ceased as they kissed again, and he proceeded to show Eliza just how important lovemaking was, whether or not it resulted in a child.

*****

Matthew paced the hall at the bottom of the grand staircase, waiting for his wife to descend. They had spent a pleasant afternoon in bed, then had parted to dress for the ball. Matilda had come down a few minutes ago, regally dressed in an extravagant navy-blue gown. After Matthew kissed her cheek and extended some heartfelt compliments, she excused herself to see to some last-minute preparations.

His thoughts roamed to his family’s country estate. The moment the Baron had turned over Eliza’s dowry, he put his plans into motion. He invested a good portion of the funds wisely, and they already saw an increase in the capital. He’d paid off his father’s debts and began the long-awaited repairs to his tenants’ homes and farms. The Earldom was once again financially sound. Everything was as good as he had never even dreamed it could be.

The sound of footsteps above him drew him out of his thoughts. His eyes moved to the top of the staircase, where his beloved wife had paused to adjust one long white glove.

Eliza felt Matthew’s eyes on her and looked up to see him smiling brightly at her. She smiled in return, lifted the hem of her maroon satin ballgown, and slowly descended the steps.

Matthew met her at the bottom and took in the breathtaking side of his wife. Her gown fit her to perfection, and the deep jewel tone highlighted the honey color of her eyes. Her hair was done up in an elaborate coiffure. A few curls were artfully arranged around her face. The diamond necklace he had gifted her with when he learned of her pregnancy glinted just above the tantalizing cleft between her breasts.

He took her hands in his and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “You are a vision, my love,” he said. She smiled, and they moved to the ballroom arm in arm.

The first of the guests began to arrive soon after. Matthew beamed with pride as he watched his wife greet each guest warmly, often with a personal comment or question about loved ones or mutual friends that made the person feel like the Countess truly cared about them. And they would have been right. Eliza genuinely cared about everyone she met. Her warmth shone through and fell upon the recipient of her smile with a radiance they couldn’t help but respond to. She was the perfect hostess and the best wife he could ever ask for.

Matthew was happy to see that one of the guests was Lady Catherine and her fiancé. Catherine had weathered the storm of their failed engagement and news of her father’s double life better than either Matthew or Eliza expected. And while it had taken some time for the gossip to die down, Catherine’s position was helped by Eliza’s calming presence. Neither Catherine nor her mother was prepared to receive Eliza at first, but Eliza persisted in reaching out to the ladies, and eventually, her kindness wore them down.

While Adeline maintained a reserved but polite distance, Catherine embraced having a sister and was a frequent visitor during the early days of Eliza’s marriage. It was, in fact, Eliza who introduced Catherine to the gentleman she would soon marry.

Much to the surprise of everyone who knew her, Catherine had been smitten with the handsome young vicar Eliza was helping to set up a charity venture. And the vicar was equally enchanted. Catherine’s superior attitude swiftly changed to one of humility and sweetness during her courtship. Eliza was thrilled to see that her formerly snobbish half-sister had softened with love and was pleased that she had played a role in her transformation.

It had taken her longer to heal the rift her existence caused between Adeline and the Baron. Eliza found that she cared for Adeline after getting to know her better. The lady’s only crime had been that she had married the Baron when he was in love with Genevieve, but that was hardly Adeline’s fault. She had no inkling that the Baron had loved another and had done her best to be a good wife to him and a good mother to their child. She hadn’t deserved her husband’s deception, and Eliza felt great sympathy for the lady when the truth of Eliza’s parentage had come to light.

During that difficult time, Eliza discovered that her father did love his wife. It was not the burning passion he had for her mother, but a quieter love that grew over the years to a comfortable love that he mourned deeply when he felt he had lost it. It had taken many months and long conversations filled with apologies and promises to get Adeline to even allow her husband to sit in the same room she occupied. Now they were reconciled, and the couple seemed to be happy for the first time in years.

The ball was a veritable crush which was a sure sign of a successful ton event. There was plenty of food, and the gentlemen did not even come close to running out of brandy.

Near the close of the night, Matthew found his wife leaning against the open doors of the terrace. She was looking up into the starry sky with a wistful smile on her face.

As he approached, he felt the nip in the air and relished the cold breeze coming in from the garden after the heat of the crowded ballroom. “It has turned quite chilly,” he remarked as he put his arms around his wife from behind and rested his chin on the top of her hair.

“It almost feels like it might snow,” she replied dreamily.

“Are you overheated, my love?” Matthew asked. “Do you need to retire early?”

Eliza smiled at the note of concern she detected in his voice and turned in his embrace to face him. She looked up at him and said, “Not at all. I’m merely feeling a bit nostalgic.”

“Nostalgic? Why is that?”

“It was on a night very much like this a year ago when I found an unconscious Earl bleeding in my forest,” she replied with a fond smile. “Little did I know that helping one stranger would lead me here.”

“And I thank God every day that it did, Eliza,” Matthew said as he cupped her face for a kiss.

She giggled and backed away. “Now, My Lord, it is hardly appropriate for you to kiss me in a ballroom full of people. Think of the scandal that would cause.”

He laughed with her and drew her out onto the terrace and into the shadows just beyond the doors. “How about if I kiss you outside of the ballroom instead?” he asked just before he did just that.

After a sweet and loving kiss, he lifted his head and asked, “Do you miss the forest?”

She looked him in the eyes for a moment then ducked her head before she responded. “Yes. I do miss it sometimes. I wouldn’t change what we have now for anything, but I do sometimes miss the simplicity of the woods.”

Matthew pondered this for a moment. The past year had brought many changes into both of their lives, but more to Eliza’s. She had left the solitude of the forest, of the only home she knew, to be thrust into the glittering world of the city and society. And she had never once uttered a single complaint. She had uprooted her entire existence for him, and he knew she would do it again without a thought if he asked it of her. That was how much she loved him. And Matthew realized that he could do something for her in return for her love and devotion.

“Do you think you would like to spend more time in the country?” he asked.

“At your estate? Of course. I know that you will need to be there often to oversee the repairs and help the tenants,” Eliza said.

“Well, yes, I will, but that isn’t what I was speaking of,” he said, and at her questioning look, he added, “I thought we might spend some part of our summers in Thetford Forest.”

When Matthew saw Eliza’s eyes gloss over with tears and the smile on her face, he knew he had hit upon the perfect balance to make his wife happy.

“Oh, Matthew, do you really think we could?”

He smiled and said, “I do. We might even add on to the cottage a bit. Build you a proper library there and a nursery.”

Eliza threw her arms around him with abandon at this and squeezed him tightly. “That would be wonderful,” she whispered through her happy tears.

When she pulled back to smile at him, she felt a touch of cold dampness on her cheek. She looked up and laughed. “Look,” she said. “It’s snowing. It will be an early winter again this year.”

Matthew smiled. “And may this year hold as much love and wonder as the last, my dear.”

“How could it not, with you by my side?” Eliza asked happily.

He grinned at her and murmured, “I love you.” Then he led her back into the ballroom and swept her into the final waltz of the night, holding her just a bit closer than was proper.

No one watching them minded their display of affection, though. The ton was just as enchanted with Matthew’s pretty little forest sprite as he was, and Eliza basked in the glow of their acceptance. She had finally found her place in the world, and she couldn’t be happier.

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Four years later

“Mummy! Daddy! Look at me!” Penelope shouted, holding onto the strings of a kite as Charlotte and Robert looked on, smiling, laughing.

“Very good, Penny!” Charlotte called. “Listen to grandfather carefully!”

“Don’t worry, Charlotte dear, me and little Penny have this all under control!” Charlotte’s father called back. He was bent over the little form of their three-year-old daughter, helping her guide her red kite in the breeze. He had a protective hand resting against her red-blonde curls.

“Oh, careful on the strings, grandfather!” Charlotte’s mother called in a good-natured way, sipping on her glass of lemonade as she sat with Charlotte and Robert.

“He adores her so,” her mother commented, her happy eyes never leaving the sight of her husband playing with her grandchild.

“Yes, he does,” Charlotte said softly. When she had given birth to her daughter three years ago, she had been afraid that her parents would be disappointed. That they would mourn that the child was not a boy, not another opportunity to have a boy like Ernest all over again. Yet her parents had surprised her. They doted on the little girl as soon as they saw her, and their devotion had never wavered.

“She is the spitting image of you at that age,” her mother commented, smiling indulgently, watching the way Penelope laughed as the kite dipped and dove in the air. “Right down to her reddish hair.”

“She’ll be quite the beauty then,” Robert quipped, taking Charlotte’s hand across the table.

“I hope the next one has your hair, Robert.” Charlotte smiled, looking down at her swollen stomach, the bump of the child that she hoped to be a son. She had a feeling it would be. She had been dreaming, night after night, of Ernest and she couldn’t help but think it was God’s way of telling her to expect a son. The future Lord Lisle.

“A little dark-haired baby,” her mother sighed with a surprisingly maternal tone. “What a little blessing that will be.”

Charlotte smiled to think of it, a little boy to love and care for just as she loved and cared for Penelope.

“Oh, it looks like Grandfather has got his kite strings knotted,” Robert said, starting to rise from his seat. “I shall go and help.”

“Let me, he’s always been useless with knots,” Charlotte’s mother said, rising from her seat with a smile. “You sit with your wife. She could be due any moment!”

Robert smiled and sat back down, placing his hand protectively over Charlotte’s stomach, stroking the taut flesh softly.

“What do you wish to call your son, my love?” Charlotte said as they watched their little family laugh and play together. It was miraculous what a difference a child made. Charlotte had never felt closer to either of her parents.

“As long as it’s not Odysseus,” Robert rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “I understand your penchant for classical names, but that is a bridge too far.”

“I was thinking we could name him for your father,” she said, reaching down to hold Robert’s hand on her belly.

“That’s interesting,” Robert said softly. “I was hoping that we might call him Ernest.”

Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat.

“You were?” she asked, looking up at her husband in amazement.

“The little one shall carry his line,” Robert shrugged gently and leaned forward to kiss Charlotte’s forehead. “He should be remembered.”

“Really?” Charlotte choked out, touched by her husband’s love and consideration. “Are you sure, darling?”

“Very sure,” Robert murmured, pulling back to kiss her lips. “We shall have many children, my darling. Let us name the next one for my father.”

“I am glad you think that,” Charlotte whispered, feeling a familiar tug in her abdomen and the sensation of warm liquid trickling down her thighs. She smiled up at her husband, feeling the anticipation begin. “Because Ernest is on his way.”

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Two Years Later

Mary blinked a few times as the sun woke her. The sun streamed bright white light that day, rather than a creeping dawn. It shone starkly across the room and through the gossamer-thin curtains that adorned their bed, white and rippling in the breeze through the open window.

With all traces of sleep now gone, Mary sat up a little in the bed and turned to gaze upon the view out of the window. She smiled at the sight, just as she had done every morning she had woken in this place. The painted blue window frame, the color of the sky beyond, was set within a white stone wall, framing the view beyond perfectly, as though it were a landscape painting.

It was very different from England. Though she loved the view of the ocean that could be found a short walk away from the Meadowbank estate back home, the ocean before her now had a crystal-blue tinge to it, cresting with gentle white waves every now and then. With their lodgings on the very edge of the Greek island of Mykonos, set within the clifftops, they had a grand view down to the bay beyond and the beach nearby, as well as across the open water. Many mornings since they had arrived, boats had bobbed on the water, and this morning was no different, with fishermen moving to and fro across the bay.

“You’re awake early.” A sleepy voice made her smile and turn on the white bed to see Walter lying down beside her. His hair was mussed from tossing and turning on the pillow in the night, and the sheet that laid over him only just reached up to his waist, exposing his naked chest and trying to keep the secret that Mary already knew: he was completely bare beneath. It reminded her of what they had shared the night before. They had made love in the depths of the night, with the stars visible beyond the window.

“Jonathan is usually crying by this time,” Mary pointed out as Walter smiled and stretched in the bed. “What if he needs me?”

“We have a nursemaid for that,” he said, gesturing through the door. “So that we can share the care for him.”

“I know, but I never like leaving him too long,” Mary complained and shifted in her seat on the bed, showing that she wished to stand to her feet and go to see their son.

“I have noticed. I had to persuade you very hard last night to leave him alone to come and have dinner with me,” Walter said, chuckling. “I think you are being overprotective.”

“Overprotective?” Mary scoffed, moving on the bed until she was on her knees. “I think it’s love!” Her words brought another laugh from Walter. He knew she adored their son as much as he did. Mary was sure she would never forget the day Jonathan had been born. She was not the only one to cry tears of happiness. Walter had too as he held their baby for the first time, silent tears running down his cheeks.

“Yes, I had noticed,” Walter said and reached out toward her. “If I’m going to be able to keep you to myself for a little longer, I will have to find a way to distract you.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just quickly go and check on how he’s doing, then I’ll come back,” Mary said as he took her hand and tried to draw her down to be with him.

“He is fine,” Walter said. “Stay with me for a little longer.”

“Well…maybe just a little longer.”

“Thought I might be able to persuade you,” Walter said as he pulled her down, so she was laying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, nestling her body against his.

“You have quite a knack of persuading me,” she said softly as he moved his lips toward hers. He teased her for a second, hovering above her lips before he moved his face down a little, angling to move his lips to the top of her neck and set small kisses at the top.

“I know how to persuade you,” he said sultrily between kisses.

“We cannot stay in this bed the whole time we are on this island!” Mary said, laughing as he nibbled her, tickling her softly.

“I beg to differ,” he said within an even deeper voice, tickling her. She giggled and tried to roll away from him. He went with it and rolled the two of them over until she was underneath him, then he braced himself above her, lifting his weight on one forearm as he lowered his other hand down to her stomach and placed a gentle palm to the curved belly there.

“How surprised do you think they will be when we get home?” Mary asked in a whisper as she followed her husband’s gaze down to her swelling stomach.

“Rather surprised,” Walter said in jest, prompting Mary to laugh and her belly to shake slightly. “Lucy will be upset that we haven’t mentioned it in our letters.”

“I know,” Mary sighed. Since she and Walter had married two years ago, there wasn’t a thing that she and Lucy did not share. As soon as Mary had discovered she was pregnant the first time, Lucy had been the second person in the world to learn of it, after Walter.

“Father will forgive us. Though he may be a little upset that he does not have more time to buy this second baby presents.”

“He has bought so many for Jonathan already that we couldn’t bring them all with us!” Mary pointed out with arched eyebrows.

“Jonathan is his first grandchild. He’s entitled to be a little…doting,” Walter said, caressing her stomach a little more. He had done the same action when she was pregnant with Jonathan, this soft, sweet touch that calmed her. She expected it calmed the baby too. With Jonathan, when he had kicked and been restless, this gentle touch had usually soothed him.

“Well, maybe after this child is born, your father will be able to dote on both of them,” Mary said, lowering one of her hands from Walter’s bare muscled shoulder and placing it down to her stomach. “We shall just have to see Lucy married quickly, then there will be even more children for him to buy gifts for.”

“Married!?” Walter flinched and practically shook the bed with his surprise, pulling a hearty laugh from Mary. “Lucy? Married?”

“What did you expect, Walter? We are going home in a few weeks so I can help her with her debut. Do you think she will not turn any gentleman’s head?”

“Oh, I really do not want to think of my sister being old enough for that!” Walter cringed and lowered his head, practically hiding in Mary’s shoulder. She giggled and lifted her arms around him, holding him down to her.

“She’s growing up. She won’t be married before she is ready, but you must prepare yourself for the possibility,” Mary said softly as she lifted a hand and wove it in his hair.

“No, I do not want to think about it,” he said and turned his head a little so that he could kiss her neck. Mary arched into his touch, elongating the moment for as long as possible. “All I want to think about, while we are traveling is right here with me now and in the next room.”

“Should I go check on Jonathan then?” Mary asked with a tease, tangling her hand more in his short locks as he picked up the pace of his kisses.

“Not yet,” Walter said, his voice slightly muffled by his kisses.

“You want me to stay here?”

“Very much.” He lifted his head a little, kissing up her neck and across her cheek until he hovered over her lips, teasing her with another kiss that didn’t quite come. “In fact…I do not think we should leave our lodgings at all today. Let’s stay here. We can go see Jonathan, play with him for a while, then come back here and spend the entire day in bed.”

“What will our nursemaid think at that?” Mary said with laughter.

“She’ll think that you are resting because you are with child.”

“Then why would you be with me?”

“She’s a woman of the world. She can use her imagination.”

Walter’s words made Mary laugh another time before he pressed his lips to hers, cutting her off. The kiss was intense and fast. With the passion that had always been between them, every time they made love was equally intense, whether it was slow and loving or fast and full of need. This time was no different.

Walter moved slightly, moving to Mary’s side so that he could begin to lift the thin nightgown over her body, breaking the kiss just long enough to lift it over her head and discard it on the floor nearby.

“You do not need that anymore,” he said with a teasing whisper before settling himself between her legs. “It’s too hot to sleep with a nightgown anyway.”

“Right now, I’m wondering why I even bothered.” Mary agreed as he began to kiss down her body. He started high at the top of her neck, then traveled down her chest, through the valley between her breasts, lingering just long enough to plant two kisses to the curves of her breasts, making her arch against him. He moved further down, placing loving kisses against the baby bump before he went even further down.

These kisses picked up in heat. Walter settled between her legs, planting soft nibbles to the inside of her thighs, teasing her even more, before he kissed her center. Mary gasped and bit her lip, trying to muffle any moans that she made. God forbid the nursemaid heard them in the adjoining room!

Walter hooked one of her legs over his shoulder as he kissed her center, he started outside of her, then delved deeper with his tongue, making her gasp and tip her head back on the pillow.

“Shh, love,” he said as he paused in his kisses, then moved down to her again.

“If you wanted me to be quiet, then we should not be doing this,” she said in an amused whisper. As though taking on the challenge of her words, he delved even deeper, making her moan his name.

Once she was wet and ready for him, he moved above her. She was already sweating, partly from the heat of the day that was basking through their windows, but mostly from his actions. When he entered her, it was easy, with the two of their bodies moving together in a natural rhythm that had become theirs from the first time they made love.

“Mary…” he whispered her name as he braced himself above her with both palms planted down to the pillow on either side of her head. She widened her legs as much as she could, panting as they moved together.

“So…” he said between breaths. “Do you see any reason why we should leave our lodgings today?”

“With you and Jonathan here?”

“And our new baby too,” Walter said, laying a hand to her stomach.

“Where else could I ever want to be?”

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2 years later.

 Catherine laughed as she watched Aaron chase around their son on the lawn, the little boy who had inherited her red hair and green eyes, giggling madly as his father pretended to be a tiger and tried to catch him.

“Papa is a tiger!” Moses squeaked, tumbling down onto the grass and laughing at his father. “Mama, Papa is a tiger!”

“I can see that,” Catherine laughed back. “You must run, my darling, or you shall surely be eaten up!”

“I thought one could not outrun a tiger, did you not tell me that once?” Aaron gasped, standing up and smiling at his wife, eyes glinting with humor. Catherine grinned back at the memory of one of their first conversations, so long ago, at her relatives’ house.

“I told you the only sensible course was to run, actually.” Catherine wiggled her eyebrows at him. “You suggested such ravenous beasts should be shot. How do you like that now you are the feline victim?”

“Not one bit,” Aaron chortled, pretending to duck behind the hedgerow. “Do not shoot me, milord!” he beseeched his son in a silly voice that made Catherine grin. “I shall be your pet tiger, if you should like?”

This stopped the little boy in his tracks. He turned to his mother with wonder in his eyes.

“Mama, can I have a tiger?” Moses asked breathlessly.

Catherine frowned at her husband in mock consternation as if to say, now what have you done? Aaron only grinned back, shrugging cheekily.

“No, my dearest,” Catherine smiled down at her son, “I am afraid you shall just have to hunt this one and shoot him with your pistol.”

“Such cruelty!” Aaron cried out as Moses lunged at his father only to receive a mock growl that had him pelting away, shrieking, to hide behind his mother’s skirts. Aaron dropped to his hands and knees to pursue, pretending not to see the child who giggled breathlessly behind her. Catherine smiled fondly at them both. When she had first met Aaron, she had never imagined he would be like this, capable of showing such freedom, informality and affection.

“Go on, little gentleman,” Catherine urged her son, happy to join in his play. “The tiger is near, and you must stalk him and hide in the jungle!”

Immediately, Moses launched himself from behind his mother, diving into the bush at the edge of the lawn, his delightful giggles emerging from the trembling leaves. Aaron turned his face towards Catherine, a surprising lift of his eyebrows causing a shiver to go down her spine. She knew that look and tried to stop herself from grinning. Instead, she folded her arms and raised her eyebrows defensively. Aaron’s face took on a predatory delight.

“What about you, dear Duchess?” Aaron said, standing up slowly. “Do you fear the wild beasts?”

“Oh, I think the tiger might have to do some prowling if he wants to get what he wants,” Catherine said archly, standing still as he approached her, that watchfulness in his stormy grey eyes making her stomach turn.

“Oh, indeed,” Aaron growled, bending down to kiss her softly in a way that might her tingle all over. “I am a fierce predator, after all.”

Catherine let herself fall into Aaron’s kiss, still as passionate and deep as the very first time in the library, still as all engulfing and all-consuming in a way that made her breathless.

“Papa! Come and find me!” Moses demanded from behind the bushes, clearly irritated that his parents had ruined his game. “Be a proper tiger like in Cachar!”

“Little imp,” Aaron breathed reproachfully against Catherine’s lips, brushing his nose against hers as they ruefully broke apart, chuckling at their son’s indignation.

“Well, this is what you get for telling him stories of all your Indian adventures,” Catherine teased.

“I have hardly told him anything,” Aaron protested.

“Oh really?” Catherine raised her eyebrow at her husband. “The battle of Cachar? You have already lit his imagination afire. You are only lucky that he does not demand your sabre.”

“I can have a sword like Papa? Really?” Moses chirped up, suddenly very attentive when there was mention of weapons. Aaron sighed and looked at his wife pointedly.

“That was your fault.” Catherine grinned. “Now, I believe you have a tiger to be?”

“Well, at least he can’t run me through with a sword. Yet.” Aaron sighed, wiggling his eyebrows at his wife before dropping into an elegant bow. “Forgive me, dear lady, I must go to my duty. After all, there is a royal commander to be stalked.”

“Happy hunting.”

Catherine kissed his cheek and watched him go, smiling indulgently at the sweet way Aaron pounced on their child, making him shriek and wriggle in delight. Unthinking, she pressed her hand to her lower abdomen, to the flicker of new life that was beginning there. Soon, they would be a family of four. She couldn’t wait to tell Aaron about their happy event, couldn’t wait for the long nights of lying together in their bed, thinking of names for their next child.

She had a sudden notion that it would be quite humorous to write a few suggestions down and then present them to an unsuspecting Aaron. What a fun way to tell him of their family’s expansion! Chuckling to herself she moved through to the study, thinking of names for a girl. Perhaps Marigold or Jasmine, in honor of Aaron’s time in the far east. A boy would be easy to name, since the Abercorns favored biblical names.

With an Aaron and a Moses in the family, she thought David could be a good addition. Reaching her husband’s desk, she pulled open the drawer to dig for a piece of paper and stopped when she felt something hard and cold under her fingers. It was her portrait. Slowly she withdrew it, smiling ruefully at the portrait that had started it all for them, the one she had sent to Captain Lambton all those years ago. She held it in her hand, running her hand over the tarnished and scratched back of the locket, feeling the edge of an engraving she had forgotten about. She turned it over, remembering as she saw the words, what she had chosen as a fitting message for the man she had thought she loved.

For the love of my life.

Catherine smiled, feeling joy creep into the corners of her heart. The darkness and sadness of the past resolving into the truth of her reality. She hadn’t known it at the time, could never have anticipated how the storms of life would blow her onto another path, but the words she had chosen had been true. She hadn’t known how true they would be. The portrait had found itself into the hands and heart of Aaron, the Duke of Abercorn, the true love of her life. Catherine smiled and put the portrait back, shaking her head at the twists and turns that life took and beginning to write down potential names of her future children.

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“Will you stand still?” Andrew asked Timothy.

“Strangely enough, I remember saying that to you at the first wedding,” Timothy sighed as he straightened his waistcoat and tailcoat.

“I remember that too,” Andrew said and clapped his shoulder in an attempt at comfort. “This time, you’re the one making everyone in the congregation nervous.”

“Can you blame me?” Timothy hung his head. He knew he shouldn’t be anxious. The last couple of months had brought him the kind of happiness he thought had been out of his reach forever. Here he was, about to seal this future, and it felt too good to be true. Sometimes he half imagined Ellis would rise from the dead and take this perfect life away from him again.

He looked over his shoulder at the guests sitting in the pews between the pillars. He and Diana had opted for a small service in the chapel on his estate here in Devon. Timothy had a few family members, his staff, and Andrew in attendance. In the second pew, he could see Harrington watching him. When Timothy connected their gaze, Harrington offered him a big smile, full of his own excitement, to which Timothy nodded.

Since that night where Timothy had refused to let himself be tempted by whisky, he had realized all the more what a good friend Harrington had been to him. Since that night, he still hadn’t touched a drop and didn’t intend to. He’d even asked Harrington to place the padlock back on the drink’s cabinet again, but Harrington had told him it wasn’t necessary. He had restraint now.

On Diana’s side of the pews were Ethel and the other staff from her cottage, along with a couple of cousins she was rekindling friendships with after so long. The only people they were waiting on was Diana’s father, the Baron, and Diana herself.

Timothy looked to the door that was still closed before turning back to Andrew.

“What’s the time?” Timothy asked as his friend laughed.

“Really? You’re doing this to yourself? You know she’ll turn up, stop worrying.”

“I was just asking what the time was,” he shrugged, trying to brush off his nerves. It wasn’t easy. He was playing with the collar of his cravat every few seconds. In front of them, the vicar took up his place with his bible in his hands and offered Timothy a smile he was struggling to return. Andrew pulled his pocket watch out of his waistcoat.

“It’s…one minute,” Andrew said.

“One minute past?” Timothy said, flicking his head back to his friend. “Then she is late.”

“One minute to,” Andrew shook his head again. “Calm down, Timothy, you know she’ll be here.”

Behind him, Timothy felt a slight tug to his trousers. He turned round to see Jonathan there dressed in a smaller version of the same suit he was wearing.

“Jonny,” Timothy used the nickname that only he ever reserved for the boy, watching as the boy’s face pinged into a smile. He held his arms up in the air, asking to be picked up. “Now?” Timothy asked.

“Now,” Jonathan nodded.

“Very well,” Timothy laughed. “What will your mother say when she sees you no longer in your seat beside Ethel, eh?” He picked up Jonathan and balanced him on his hip, feeling his smile return. He was growing to love Jonathan already. What mattered to Timothy today was not only that he was making a commitment to Diana, but him too. He was making a vow to care for the boy as though he was his own.

“Is she late?” Jonathan asked, making Timothy groan aloud.

“Careful,” Andrew winced at his side. “Your new father is already nervous enough without such comments.”

“You’re not helping either,” Timothy said to Andrew, just as the door to the chapel opened. The organ music struck up, and he fell still, feeling somewhat fixed to the spot as the Baron’s face appeared through the doorway.

As the Baron stepped to the side, he revealed Diana.

Timothy felt his smile grow. Diana was dressed like the goddess he had always thought her to be. Wearing a bold white gown, fixed high on the waist with a deep neckline, her hair cascaded down her back. In the center of the dress was the moon brooch that he had purchased for her all those years ago.

When Diana saw Jonathan in Timothy’s arms, she raised her eyebrows, prompting Timothy to chuckle.

“Best get back to your seat, Jonny,” Timothy said in his ear and placed the boy back on his feet. Jonathan hurried to the pews and scrambled into his seat beside Ethel, just as Diana walked down the aisle on her father’s arm.

Timothy briefly looked to the Baron seeing how happy he was and knowing he bore a similarly ridiculous smile.

As Diana reached the altar, the Baron placed her hand in his and Timothy brought her close to his side.

The time had finally come. This very moment he had thought would happen five years ago. Of course, he still wished it had, but knowing now all that had passed, he couldn’t be more thrilled to have found her again. In a way, he would always be thankful for his own drunken foolishness whilst she was out of his life. For if it hadn’t been for that, he never would have won the house in Devon, nor would he have had the carriage accident which sent him straight to Diana’s door and discovering her again.

“Today, we are here to celebrate the joining of the Earl of Moray, Timothy Dunn, and Miss Diana Bartlett…”

As the vicar moved into the vows, Timothy never took his eyes off Diana, too relieved that he was finally able to marry her.

***

“Diana, you can just enjoy the breakfast, you know,” Timothy said at Diana’s side. She smiled up at him, picking up another little cake to nibble. Diana hadn’t stopped smiling since she had woken up that morning. With Jonathan on one side of her stuffing as many cakes into his mouth as he could manage and Timothy on her other, she didn’t think it would be possible to be sad again.

“I know,” she smiled, just as Timothy took her hand and squeezed tightly. Within his grasp, she could feel both her engagement ring and her wedding ring standing proudly. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“And it will be. We can talk of this tomorrow and worry about it then. Today is our wedding day,” he assured her, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the back.

She sank into that touch for a minute. They had been good and restrained themselves after their first joining. Yet, it had been difficult. Often, they would sneak into quiet corners to sneak kisses and stolen moments of bliss. Hands had wandered beneath clothing for stolen touches and brief released\s of anticipation, but they never went as far again. They had promised to wait for the wedding night.

Feeling Timothy kiss the back of her hand, with his lips lingering across her skin, she could feel the coil of excitement spiraling in her stomach and shooting somewhere much lower. Images flashed in her mind, and she couldn’t wait to be alone with him again, after all their guests had gone. At least then, they need not hold back anymore.

“The paperwork will be sorted. I promise you,” Timothy assured, pulling her mind back to the conversation in hand.

“But it’s all so complicated,” she complained, looking around the guests that were scattered nearby on little tables. The intimate ceremony made for a small breakfast too, and she could see every face smiling, all enjoying the food and happy day. “Andrew was telling me about the papers, saying everything that needs to be done and all the hoops we need to jump through. It just all seems so absurd when I have been caring for Jonathan for these last five years. I will just feel so much better when it is all sorted.”

“There’s no need to worry,” Timothy said, releasing her hand and returning to his food. “The solicitor will be here tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Diana looked up in excitement. “You kept that a secret. I thought we were going up to London to sort it after our trip to Cornwall?” They had planned a week’s honeymoon down at some lodgings in Cornwall with Jonathan. From what Diana had heard, there were many beautiful beaches in the area, and Jonathan would no doubt love exploring and playing with all the sand.

“I know how important this is,” he said softly. “I won’t be calm until we’ve sorted it either. Come tomorrow, the solicitor will be here with the official adoption papers. He’ll file them in London the next day, and Jonathan’s parentage will never need to be questioned.”

Diana sighed with relief and sat back in her chair, turning to look at Jonathan beside her. He was speaking animatedly with his adopted grandpa, the Baron. Somewhat delighted to find there was a child to take care of, the baron had already delivered multiple presents to their door for Jonathan. He said he was making up for missed time.

As for the new inheritance that was to be Jonathan’s, they had already arranged to hold the money and estate in trust for him, until he was old enough to take possession himself. The land would be maintained, and the gambling halls would be sold off so that he never need deal with the burden of them.

Seeing Jonathan smiling beside her, looking around at so many people, she was relieved not to feel like she was imprisoning him anymore. Now Ellis had gone, she never needed to demand Jonathan stayed inside again. A different kind of future was laid out before him, one that was happy.

“You’ll be an excellent mother to him,” Timothy’s words pulled Diana’s gaze to look back to him.

“I hope so,” she said, leaning forward and taking his arm, sinking into him.

“I know you will be. Because though you may not yet have the title officially in law,” he smiled at her, sending warmth through her body, “I have already seen how good a mother you are to him.”

“I’m so pleased you think so,” Diana realized that this was the moment. She had something important to tell Timothy and had decided to wait until after the wedding to tell him. Now was that time couldn’t be any more perfect. “Timothy, there’s something you should know.”

“Oh?” he asked, looking to her. “This isn’t a confession that there are more secrets, is it? You’re not hiding any more children who we need to adopt, are you?” Diana laughed warmly as he smiled at her.

“No, I promise. This one we won’t need to adopt,” she whispered and placed a hand on her stomach. She watched as Timothy’s eyes widened, then he flicked his gaze downward to where her hand was placed.

“Do you mean…?” he trailed off, just raising his eyebrows.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Our family is going to get bigger.” Timothy’s smile grew impossibly wide.

“I wish you had told me in private,” he grabbed her hand tightly.

“Why?”

“Because I can hardly kiss you and embrace you in front of our entire wedding party, can I?” he said, shaking his head. “You’re carrying our child,” he murmured, mostly to himself before looking down at her stomach again.

She saw something glisten in his eyes. When she realized they were unshed tears, she urged him to look up to her again.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, leaning toward him and entwining their fingers together.

“I was just thinking how lucky I was that wheel fell off my carriage the day I came here. That was all. Who would think I would have found my goddess wandering through the trees to come to my aid?”

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Was there a part that bored or that you didn't really like in the book? *

Even a character, a scene, or anything. You could say no if nothing bothered you.

What moment from the book you enjoyed the most? *

It can be a character, a scene, a trait, or anything, you have enjoyed.

Do you enjoy sequels telling the stories of the children of the previous protagonists? *

• Yes, I love to have a look in the future and see what has happened to the characters when their children grow up.
• Not so much. I prefer to read about the same circle of characters and their siblings/friends, instead of moving to the next generation.

Do you think the conflict in the end got resolved too quickly, which made the last scene somewhat anticlimactic? *

• I'd say yes. I needed to see Matilda suffer the consequences of her actions a bit longer. She risked ruining Henry's sisters after all.
• I wouldn't say so. Matilda suffered from the moment she realised what she had done. I'm glad Henry forgave her and we didn't have to read a lot of pages about their time apart.

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Matilda looked down at the letter she had just received from Althea, smiling as her sister-in-law recalled her various dances with gentlemen, her on-going courtship with the viscount and, perhaps more than Althea realized herself, her continual complaints about Owen. Matilda sighed and leaned back, looking down and out over the piazza in Rome, church bells ringing out over the square. Of all the places she and Henry had traveled, their townhouse in Rome was undoubtedly Matilda’s favorite. She had already talked about bringing their sisters and Barty out for a visit, but Matilda knew it would likely need to wait a year or two. Matilda had a secret, a joyous one that she couldn’t wait to reveal. She wished she could write to Althea and her mother about it, but she first needed to share her news with her husband. She grinned to think of it, looking down over the piazza, longing to see him return from his daily walk. She opened her journal to write a brief missive, her heart-warming when she flicked through the pages of sketches and dried flowers from their months of traveling. She set pen to paper:

It has now been two weeks and I am certain. I did not know I could be so happy. Now I must tell Henry, and then our joy can be shared. I find myself wondering if my own mother felt such excitement and trepidation.

 Matilda’s head jerked up when she heard a familiar whistling coming across the square. She looked up, rising from the writing desk to smile down through the open window, waving to her husband as he smiled back before jogging up the front steps. Matilda closed her diary and tucked it away, hearing Henry conversing lightly with their butler downstairs and then his heavy footfalls on the stairs as he ran up to find her in the small library.

“My love,” Henry said, entering the room with his usual grin. Months of continent sunshine had made him even more handsome. His blonde hair had lightened, his skin had tanned, and every time Matilda saw him her heart would flutter. “How are you feeling this morning? Any better?”

“Much better darling.” Matilda tried to hide her smile. She had suspected the reason of her morning illness a week ago but had waited a little longer to be sure. Now she was bursting to tell him.

“Excellent, so we can carry on with our adventures!” He threw his cap on the chair. “Was it the Vatican today, or the Forum again?”

“Well, actually, I thought we might stay here,” Matilda said.

“Oh, say no more.” Henry grinned and then swooped down upon her, kissing her swiftly and thoroughly. Matilda leaned into it, trying to keep the smile of her secret from her lips, but Henry pulled back, looking down at her shrewdly.

“You have a secret,” he stated. Matilda inwardly cursed herself for being unable to hide anything from her husband, but when one was married to both the love of her life and her best friend, it was practically impossible.

“I don’t,” Matilda tried to deny, her lips breaking into a grin. She could feel happiness bubbling up inside of her, threatening to burst out of her lips.

“You do!” Henry declared, holding her tightly by the waist staring at her searchingly. “Tell me! Or shall I tickle it out of you?”

“No, no!” Matilda giggled, swerving away from his roaming fingers. “Don’t!”

“Surrender, Tills!” Henry demanded, falling back into their familiar game. “Say the word, Say it!”

“I am with child!” Matilda blurted out, twisting away from him with a gasp. She stared up at him, watching for his reaction. He jerked at her words, his emerald eyes widening. His hands immediately stopped moving. He held her waist lightly, staring with an open mouth. Matilda grinned at him, waiting for him to process, feeling as light as a feather with joy. She imagined that if she stepped out of the window she would fly away on the sunshine.

“You’re…” he said, dazed.

“With child,” Matilda supplied, taking one of his hands and moving it gently to her abdomen, hoping the touch would make the words more real. “We are having a child, Henry.”

“Oh, God!” Henry exclaimed, sweeping her up into his arms and twirling her around so she screamed joyfully.

“Henry, put me down!” she laughed, watching the sunlit room swirl around her.

“Oh, saints be praised! Oh, Tills!”

He set her down, cupping her cheeks and looking deep into her eyes.

“I am so happy,” he whispered, green eyes wet with joyous tears. “Are you happy, Tills?”

“I am.” Matilda nodded, delighted and filled with relief to finally share this with her husband. Now the marvel of it could be shared between them.  “We are going to be parents.”

“We are.” Henry shook his head in wonder, his fingers flexing on her dress. “I shall have a son or daughter. Ralph or Iris.”

“Iris?” Matilda looked up at him quizzically. The name ‘Ralph’ was obviously a homage to her father, but she did not understand the other.

“Yes, Iris. Ever since Medea mentioned it at our wedding breakfast I have thought it a lovely name for a daughter,” Henry smiled softly. “Especially if she has your eyes.”

Matilda was touched he had remembered, and overwhelmed that he had been thinking about it for so long. She kissed him softly, trying to convey her thankfulness and gratitude with every slow second of it.

“We can call them whatever you like, my love.” Matilda tangled her fingers in his hair. “As long as you call us all forever yours.”

“You are mine, my dearest friend, my wife, my life.” Henry kissed her firmly and Matilda felt in his lips all the promises for the future. His hand flexed on her belly. “Both of you are mine, part of my heart. I shall love you forever.”

“We shall love you forever, too.” Matilda sighed, resting her forehead against his as they breathed in one another’s scent: familiar and comforting, the smell of home.

“Are you well?” Henry asked gently, his hand still rubbing her belly in awe. “Do you want for anything?”

“Only your presence.” Matilda smiled. “And perhaps a cup of tea.”

“I can provide both.” Henry kissed her on the forehead and moved to the doorway, “let me go and speak to the housekeeper.”

“Thank you.” Matilda smiled at him, settling back down at the desk.

“And Tills?”

“Yes?”

Matilda turned to look at him. Henry was leaning against the door frame, looking at her with a smile that would light up the whole city.

“I love you,” he said simply. “I love our life together. I can’t wait to meet our child.”

“Me too,” Matilda whispered, her heart full of joy and her eyes starting to tear up. She shook her head, trying to dispel them. “Though I suppose we shall have to share the treehouse now.”

“Indeed!” Henry laughed, “though we shall keep it for some things.”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and disappeared down the stairs, leaving Matilda giggling with excitement and fighting back tears of joy as she opened her journal again. She wanted to write a few, final words to mark this occasion.

Now my happiness is complete. I did not know when I first loved Henry how beautiful our life together could be. I am so glad to be his wife. I am so glad that I married my best friend.

If you want to know what lies ahead in our story, you may want to get the sequel…

Finding herself at a terrible crossroad, Rosaline is torn: should she join a competition to ruin the man she loves in order to save her father, or should she let her own Papa rot in prison? Whoever she chooses to betray, one thing is certain: neither could ever forgive her…

A Way to Betray the Duke

“How are you feeling, mi amore?” Giovanni asked, rubbing his thumb against Beatrice’s knuckles as he held her hand in the carriage.

“Mmm unpleasant.” Beatrice swallowed, her eyes tightly shut. “I’m afraid little Evelina is not finding the rocking carriage conducive to comfort.”

“Or our little boy,” Giovanni said, reaching down to tenderly rub his wife’s swollen belly. “I’m sorry you feel so unwell. I am sure we can make some lemon tea when we arrive.”

“Oh, spare me your traditional Italian remedies,” Beatrice groaned affectionately. “You’ve been offering me Nonna recipes non-stop since I told you we were expecting.”

“And how many of them have worked?” Giovanni chided, kissing her cheek gently, breathing in her scent. Pregnancy had changed her scent slightly, and he loved it. It was deeper, muskier, and reminded him of their most intimate moments. It was all he could do to still keep his hands off her. Without his realizing, his hand wandered from her stomach to tenderly cup her swollen breast.

“Oh, I see,” Beatrice murmured, chuckling lightly. “This is why you want me to feel better, is it? Do you have some amorous activities planned tonight, my dear marquess?”

“Well, that rather depends, my dear marchioness,” Giovanni kissed her deeply, loving the taste of her. “On how the mother of my precious child is feeling.”

“If it is as bad as I feel now, then I am afraid you shall be out of luck,” Beatrice groaned, pressing her forehead against his, her warm, sweet breath on his mouth.

“I am sorry, mi amore.” He kissed her nose mournfully. “If I could take some of your burden, I truly would.”

“It’s all right.” Beatrice opened her eyes to smile at Giovanni. “If the only trouble I have when being with child is a little carriage sickness, then I shall count myself blessed. At least it’s not swollen feet.”

“Oh really?” Giovanni feigned looking down at her feet appraisingly. He knew she had an absurd horror of her feet growing in size. “It seems like your feet might be bigger than yesterday.”

“Stop it!” Beatrice laughed, pushing him playfully. Giovanni loved to see her smile and wondered if their child would have her lips. Would their child laugh like she did? He hoped so. “You are a terrible tease, Lord Bath.”

“Lady Bath, it is only because you are such a joy to tease,” Giovanni laughed. “Oh, here we are.”

The carriage was pulling up outside the beautiful Grafton House in Gloucestershire. It was grander and finer than their new house near Fallenbrook, which had become known as Castel Amante to honor his Italian heritage. It had been a long journey from home to Grafton House, but Beatrice had been determined to make it before the baby came. After that, Thaddeus had promised to come and stay at Fallenbrook for a while, so he could be close to his first grandchild. Anna was excited, as she had borne a little girl, Ophelia, only three months ago. Everyone was waiting eagerly to welcome Bea and Gio’s child into the world, and for the first time in his life, Giovanni felt truly overwhelmed and surrounded by love.

“What is the name of your cousin who is visiting?” Beatrice asked beside him.

“Oh, it is Marco” Giovanni frowned, shaking his head. “I have only met him a few times yet. Alegria is his family name, Signor Alegria.”

“And he is family on your mother’s side?” Beatrice reached up to gently touch the necklace at her throat. It had belonged to Giovanni’s mother, and he had given it to her on their wedding day. Whenever he saw it around her neck it made him smile.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been told,” Giovanni smiled, thinking of the many stories he had exchanged with his cousin at Silas’s club in London when Thaddeus had introduced them. Since coming back into Giovanni’s life, Thaddeus was doing his best to find more of Giovanni’s family. He had been reaching out to Giovanni’s Italian relatives and making connections. When he had discovered Giovanni’s cousin staying in London, he had immediately invited him to make their acquaintance. Giovanni had forgotten how much he missed the company of Italian men. Spending time with his cousin had felt like refreshment, something he’d been missing all his life.

“I am looking forward to introducing you,” Giovanni smiled, thinking of how much Beatrice’s sharp wit would flourish in the company of his intelligent and humorous cousin. “I think you shall like him.”

“I am sure I shall.” Beatrice smiled, squeezing his hand. “Our family is becoming quite large, mi amore. Soon we shall need a family tree to track it!”

Giovanni laughed, feeling himself flourish with happiness. What a wonder it was to have a family so large to love and be a part of. It was something he had only dreamed of as a child, and now he had it. Sometimes he couldn’t believe it, but the evidence was beside him. His precious wife, swollen with his child—the proof that his family would keep growing and flourishing.

“Here you are!”

The carriage door was flung open, interrupting Giovanni’s thoughts. Thaddeus held the door open, eagerly offering his hand to Beatrice to help her down. Giovanni smiled indulgently and let him do so. Thaddeus loved Beatrice dearly, and Giovanni enjoyed it immensely.

Behind Thaddeus stood Giovanni’s cousin, dark-haired and dark-eyed like Giovanni, smiling playfully. He raised his hand in welcome and Giovanni waved back, eager to introduce him to Beatrice.

“You look so well, my dear!” Thaddeus exclaimed, holding Beatrice’s hands and stepping back to admire her. “I hope that little girl you are carrying is safe and well.”

“Oh, she is,” Beatrice rubbed her belly possessively.

“Good. Let me introduce you to Giovanni’s cousin, Marco Alegria,” Thaddeus said, gesturing for Marco to step forward. “Marco Alegria, may I present the Marchioness of Bath?”

“Delighted, marchioness,” Marco said, sweeping into a low and elegant bow. Giovanni shook his head at his cousin, holding back his laughter. Marco was as much a Casanova as he had been in his youth. Always eager to impress.

“The pleasure is mine, Signor Alegria,” Beatrice smiled at Marco pleasantly. “Piacere di Conoscerla, Signore,“ Beatrice added in flawless Italian, greeting him in the traditional way.

“Oh!” Marco’s dark eyebrows flew upwards, and he stared at his cousin in amazement. “You speak beautiful Italian, my lady.”

“Well, I have an excellent tutor,” Beatrice smiled, linking her arm through Giovanni’s and smiling up at him affectionately.

“You were her tutor, were you?” Marco shook his head. “That explains how you managed to get such a beautiful woman to marry you, cousin!”

“Oh hush,” Giovanni joked and pushed Marco’s shoulder, relishing the easy banter with this man who shared his mother’s blood. “Let us go inside. We have some news to share with you both.”

“Oh?” Thaddeus asked. “News of Silas and Anna? How are they?”

In the time that Giovanni had been married, he had relished the speed with which his birth father had thrown himself wholeheartedly into his life. If Giovanni had any reservations at the start of their relationship about the sincerity of Thaddeus’s love, they were quickly dispersed. Thaddeus took joy in every aspect of their relationship, everything from the dinners the two of them had at White’s in London to the family rides and walks they invited him to at Fallenbrook and Castel Amante. Giovanni had no doubts about the decision he and Beatrice had taken regarding their children and was happy to be able to tell Thaddeus about it now.

“They are well.” Giovanni smiled at Thaddeus. “But that’s not the news. The news is about the baby. We have made some decisions with regards to his or her naming.”

“Oh?” Thaddeus gestured for them to walk up the stairs of the house, offering Beatrice his arm. Marco and Giovanni smiled indulgently at one another. It was clear how much Thaddeus enjoyed caring for Beatrice, and the two men enjoyed letting him do it.

“Yes,” Beatrice told him, smiling. “If she is a girl, then we shall call her Evelina.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Thaddeus gasped, his smile lit with joy. “She would be so proud, I know she would.”

“It is a beautiful name.” Marco clapped Giovanni on the shoulder, smiling warmly. “Your madre will be honored.”

“It is,” Giovanni nodded. “And we’ve decided that if our child is a boy…we shall call him Thaddeus.”

Thaddeus stopped in his tracks, staring at them both. Marco grinned behind him, giving Giovanni a satisfied nod. They both knew how much this would mean to the man.

“Truly?”

Beatrice and Giovanni nodded. Beatrice reached out to hold Giovanni’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Yes,” Giovanni swallowed. “I know you might think that this will be confusing for the child, that we should call you Thaddeus and him Thaddeus also—”

“Yes, it might be,” Thaddeus gave a watery smile. “I should be touched enough to be given your child’s middle name, Giovanni. That would be enough honor for me.”

“Well, we’ve decided differently,” Giovanni said, quirking his mouth at Thaddeus. “We’ve decided to change your name, Thaddeus.”

“You have?” Thaddeus looked at them curiously.

“Yes,” Giovanni said. “Our son shall be Thaddeus, and from now on, we shall call you Father.”

Thaddeus looked at them both, his face blank for a moment. Then his eyes began to fill with tears.

“If that is agreeable to you?” Beatrice asked gently, stroking her father-in-law’s arm.

“It is!” Thaddeus sniffed, blinking hard and then laughing. “Oh yes, it is—very much.”

“Bravo!” Marco slapped Thaddeus playfully on the back. “We should have a drink to celebrate!”

“Maybe some tea?” Giovanni intervened, knowing how much his cousin enjoyed a little libation.

“Ah, yes,” Marco conceded, smiling at Beatrice. “You should try lemon tea, marchioness, it is very helpful for ladies who are expecting.”

“Oh, God save me from Italian remedies!” Beatrice exclaimed, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. “Take me inside, signor—and you must call me Beatrice if you are going to insist on being so free with your recipes as your cousin.”

“Of course, Beatrice,” Marco grinned, offering his cousin his arm and leading her inside. “If you will call me Marco.”

“It is such a pleasure to have your cousin here.” Thaddeus sighed happily, watching Beatrice and Marco go inside. “We should join them.”

Giovanni knew he was right, but he had one last gift to bestow upon Thaddeus. It was the simplest gift he had ever given, yet he knew it would mean the world to the man in front of him.

“Lead the way,” he clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, “Father.”

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Seven Months Later

Miriam was relieved when she arrived at Charity’s home. It felt like it took forever to get from one house to another, especially with the weather they had been experiencing lately. It was mid-November, and the heavens had decided it was time to open. The rain had barely stopped for the past week, but Miriam was determined to keep her promise of coming down to be with her sister during the latter stages of her pregnancy.

At least they weren’t going to be in London. Felton had said he would need to make trips into the city, but he was happy for Charity to stay at their country home for her confinement. There was less stress there, and things were still a little unsettled in London with Lord Brixton’s trial. Felton wanted to keep Charity away as much as possible.

Miriam felt another surge of rage when she thought about the earl who had almost killed her brother-in-law. He deserved to be hanged for what he had done. But because of his connections, Brixton had managed to get a judge to agree that he would be sent to Australia as a convict, on the condition he never returned to England. Logan, his manservant, had been given the same deal, but to America. Brixton’s title would be stripped from him and he would be left with nothing, but he would keep his life. That he hadn’t agreed to, from what Felton had told Miriam and Charity, but it was either that or he would be hanged.

The ordeal would finally be over by Christmas when his ship set sail. But the chaos in London was still going on. Brixton had decided to name those who were very involved in his depraved activities, trying to bring down as many people as possible. Everyone was very upset about it, and a few blamed Felton for raising the issue in the first place. But Felton stood by what he had done. It was either that, or he’d be just as bad as Brixton, and that didn’t sit well with him.

Her brother-in-law had focused his energy on his new family instead of the negativity of Brixton’s trial. Charity had settled down well as Baroness Berkeley, and between Felton and Miriam’s father, they had managed to pay off the majority of his debts. There was only one left, and that was almost finished with. Felton would be going into the New Year debt-free. He still played cards, but he never played for money. Charity said they played for something else when they played cards together. Miriam didn’t want to know what.

It would be nice to spend time with her sister for a while before going down to London to join her parents, and then back again for Charity’s labor after Christmas. Her sister wanted her there, and Miriam wasn’t about to deny her that. She was just hoping she got inside without getting too wet.

The carriage finally pulled up outside Felton’s house, and it was still pouring down. Miriam groaned. She was not looking forward to this. A footman hurried out of the house, hunched over in the rain, and opened the door for her. Thanking him, Miriam quickly got out and ran inside. But even the short distance from the carriage to the house had her drenched through. Standing in the foyer, Miriam took off her bonnet and shook the water from it. At least that had kept most of her hair dry, although she could feel the cold seeping through her coat. She hated rain.

“You look one step away from a drowned rat.”

Miriam looked up, her heart missing a beat when she saw James Ferrill walking across the foyer, watching her with an easy smile. She hadn’t realized he was here as well. Then again, seeing as he was practically family, Mr Ferrill was always around.

“Mr Ferrill. I…” Miriam cleared her throat. What was it about this man that made her fumble over her words? “I didn’t realize you were going to be here.”

“Felton invited me for lunch.” Mr Ferrill arched an eyebrow. “Did you not want to see me?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I…” Miriam groaned. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to sound rude. I just wasn’t expecting you.”

“No need to apologize. You’re more polite than some people I’ve come across.”

Miriam could imagine. Being an illegitimate son didn’t open many doors, or engender much hospitality from certain people. But Miriam didn’t see an illegitimate child when she looked at Mr Ferrill; she saw a man. A very handsome one who made her feel like a carefree girl again. They had talked for several hours at Charity’s wedding, and Mr Ferrill seemed to have eyes only for her. A few of the young ladies who had been in attendance hadn’t appeared to be impressed that Miriam monopolized Mr Ferrill’s time, but Miriam never encouraged it. He just didn’t want to break away.

Miriam thought about that day often. She hadn’t seen him since then, which had disappointed her greatly. Maybe that day hadn’t been as good for him as it had been for her. But looking at him now, with his smile and the twinkle in his eyes, it was like no time had passed.

She needed to slow down. This didn’t mean anything. She had to maintain her composure.

“I presume you’re going to be around when Charity goes into labor?” Mr Ferrill asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Miriam shook herself. Then she handed her bonnet to the footman, who was still dripping wet from going outside and allowed the servant to help take her coat off. “Charity wants me to help out. Mother will be along closer to the time.”

“Felton told me about that. I’m glad all I need to do is keep Felton in another room during the labor.”

Miriam couldn’t help but roll her eyes with a smile.

“Men. You have no idea how much women go through to give you children. You think it’s so easy.”

“I never said it was easy.” Mr Ferrill’s smile faded and a shadow passed across his face. “That part of having a baby is never easy. Everything before it, though…”

Oh, God.

She had messed up. Miriam winced and wished that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to sound so crude about it, given your circumstances.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Mr Ferrill gave a half-hearted shrug. “I guess, even after all these years, it’s still a sore point for me.”

Miriam could understand. Mr Ferrill’s father might say he acknowledged his son, but from what Miriam had heard, his attitude about James Ferrill was pretty much out of sight and out of mind. That had to hurt. Miriam didn’t think she would be able to manage if her parents did that to her. She reached out and touched his arm.

“If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.”

He looked at her, and Miriam almost forgot how to breathe. There was something in his eyes that grabbed onto her and held on tight. Then it was gone, and Mr Ferril gave her a nod.

“I will. Thank you, Miss Miriam.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps. “Your sister is here. I’ll leave you to it.”

Miriam found herself watching him as he walked away. She couldn’t help herself. He just drew her eye no matter what he was doing. There was a polite cough and Miriam jumped. Charity was standing beside her, watching her with amusement.

“Finished, have you?”

“Oh, I…” Miriam felt her face getting warm. “I wasn’t…”

Charity laughed. Pregnancy looked good on her, from her glowing skin to her very swollen belly. Miriam would not be surprised if there was more than one baby in her sister’s belly. But Charity had taken the pregnancy in her stride, and she looked happy about it.

Miriam hoped she could get that for herself.

“Oh, Miriam, if you could see the look on your face right now.” Charity linked arms with her. “Come with me. I need to get off my feet. If you want, I’ll have Mrs Hall fetch the bath so you can get yourself warm after being out in the rain.”

Miriam smiled. That sounded like a really good idea.

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Six years later

“On the count of five, you will both be down here, or I will come up there!” Nigel called up the stairs, smiling as he tapped his foot impatiently. “One…”

“Pa! We’re coming!” A cry from at the top of the stairs echoed through the house.

“Not quickly enough,” he laughed, staring up to the landing and seeing a little face peering through the banister down at him. “Two…”

“Pa!” a second voice wailed, prompting the face that had been looking down at Nigel to turn back and look at someone else across the landing. “Five more minutes!”

“Three…” Nigel continued, with his voice persistent.

“Pa!” Both voices cried at the same time. Nigel tried to stop himself from laughing but was struggling.

How can I not laugh when faced with their mischief?

“Four…”

“We’re coming.” The face that had been looking through the posts of the banister railing appeared now standing at the top of the stairs.

“Samuel,” Nigel offered a warning tone, despite his smirk. “Where are your shoes?”

The small boy looked down at his stocking-clad feet, then raised his gaze back to his father with a mischievous smile.

“I hid them somewhere.” He swayed from side to side.

“Five…” Nigel completed the count. “Right, that’s it. If you two will not come down, then I will have to come up and get you!” As Nigel pointed up the stairs, his son ran away.

“No, Pa!” The boy laughed and ran away across the landing. Nigel took two steps at a time in his haste to get up the staircase. He ran after the boy and grabbed him easily around the waist, holding him up in the air to the point that young Samuel squealed. Nigel tickled the boy under the arms, making the boy squeal even more. “Put me down!”

“Are you going to find your shoes?” Nigel protested, still holding him in the air as he walked off in search of the second child who had refused to come down the stairs.

“If you put me down,” the boy laughed.

“Hmm, I do not trust you.” He tickled the boy a second time, making him squeal again. “Where is your sister?”

“Hiding…”

“In the same place as your shoes?”

“Maybe…”

“Why couldn’t you two have taken after your mother instead of me, hmm?” He laughed as he raised the boy in his arms until he was sat on his hip. “I reckon it would have made for an easier life. Where is your sister?”

The boy put upon a look of innocence, but as Nigel walked the two of them into Samuel’s chamber, the boy’s eyes slid away, betraying her location. Nigel moved to the door of the wardrobe with a smirk and offered a gentle knock on the wood.

“Anabelle, do you want to come out voluntarily or not?”

No sound followed for a moment, but a few seconds later a low giggle emerged from behind the door.

“You two have more mischief than I ever had, I swear!” Nigel said to Samuel who laughed in response. He looked back to the wardrobe and opened the door. Below the hung-up clothes, Samuel’s twin sister was sat, holding her brother’s shoes in her lap. Where Samuel had Gloria’s green eyes and Nigel’s dark hair, Anabelle had the opposite, possessing Nigel’s startling blue eyes and Gloria’s golden hair. She looked up to him with the same appearance of innocence Samuel had worn. “Are you going to come out?” Nigel asked.

Anabelle shook her head, smiling widely.

“That’s it, then I’m coming in there after you.”

“No, Pa!” Anabelle tried to scramble away, but she was too slow. Nigel managed to lift her up with his other arm.

He carried the two of them out of the room, and back down the stairs, with the two of them complaining all the way. He struggled with them for a moment as he reached the bottom step. Samuel was trying to tickle him back in revenge and Anabelle was pulling on the lapel of his jacket with all her might.

“What is happening here?” The sound of Gloria’s voice made them all stop in their frenzy. Nigel lifted his eyes to see Gloria standing in the doorway to the music room from nearby. In her arms, she had their youngest child. Not yet one year old, baby Stephen had a toy in his mouth that he was chewing on profusely.

Gloria’s beautiful green eyes looked between Nigel and the twins.

“Samuel started it,” Anabelle claimed, pointing across Nigel’s chest.

“I did not!”

“They refused to come downstairs.” Nigel smiled at her. “What choice did I have, love?” She laughed at him.

“You have the same false look of innocence they wear.” She pointed at his face as she walked toward him. “It is like living with a pack of cubs instead of a family, you know.”

“Cubs?” he repeated with a smile. “I do not think a pack of wild cats could keep up with these two.” As if in proof to his point, Anabelle pulled on his cravat, making the material tumble loose. “Anabelle…” He warned and she smiled innocently.

“Right you two, time to behave, or you will not see your cousin, Henry,” Gloria warned them with her hand outstretched. “Anabelle give Samuel his shoes. I want you standing by the door and ready to go in thirty seconds. Yes?”

“Yes, Ma,” they said in unison. Nigel placed them on their feet, and they hurried to do her bidding as Nigel moved toward her.

He wrapped his arm around Gloria’s back and brought her into his side, so that baby Stephen was cradled between them. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, enjoying the peace and intimacy of the moment before the twins could cause any more mischief.

“I love you,” he murmured to her.

“I love you, too.” She looked back up to him with a smile, one that always took his breath. His golden goddess had not only given him a family that he adored but a life that he loved too.

“Ready for the picnic?” she asked, clearly unaware of the depth of his thoughts at that moment.

“Of course.” He smiled. “How about we swap duties for a little while? I will take well-behaved Stephen and you look out for the twins?” he teased.

“No chance.” She smirked and walked out of the door with the twins following behind her. He followed, too, thinking he was exactly where he always wanted to be.

***

The family had gone to see Ariella, Daniel, and Henry for a picnic. With the sun high in the sky and a great variety of food on offer, the event was a pleasant meeting, with all the children playing games and eating together, in a park bordered with oak trees and a beautiful lake.

Gloria was quite certain she had not stopped smiling since she had woken up that morning. As she passed baby Stephen into Nigel’s arms, he winked at her, sharing a private moment with her amongst the rowdy picnic.

To think I had once been so offended by his propensity to wink!

“Gloria, come with me,” Ariella beckoned her to her feet. “Let us steal a few minutes of peace.”

“You are just leaving us with the hard work,” Nigel said, gesturing to the two of them as baby Stephen rested his head on Nigel’s chest, ready for sleep. “Don’t think we do not know what you are doing.”

“You are quite right, we are!” Gloria teased. “Keep a watchful eye on them.” She jumped to her feet and walked away with her sister.

“I take it you have not heard the news about Lord Crampton?” Ariella whispered to her as they sidled away from the picnic for a moment’s walk along the side of the lake.

“News? What news?” Gloria asked in curiosity, trying to push away the memory of Lord Crampton from the ball where he had assaulted her. Still, that memory could fill her with fear.

“It seems in a rather drunken stupor, after a night at a gaming hall, Lord Crampton picked a fight with another Duke. This one better connected than himself,” Ariella whispered with glee. “The result is that Lord Crampton has been charged and is to be sent away to the Americas.”

“It is true?” Gloria stopped their walk and looked to Ariella with sincerity and hope.

“It is true. The man will be gone within the fortnight, I have been told.”

Gloria was amazed at the relief that washed over her. She had barely seen Lord Crampton since the night he had attempted to force himself on her, but the memory of what had happened had not faded. Once she and Nigel had seen Lord Crampton at an assembly, where in a drunken state Lord Crampton had approached the two of them and made all sorts of horrid comments… the thought of it made her shiver. The result of Crampton’s words had been Nigel nearly striking Lord Crampton in front of the whole assembly, for all to see. Gloria managed to restrain him though, and they had left the assembly quickly.

We will never have to hide out of fear of seeing him again. He is out of our lives!

“Thank goodness for that.” Gloria smiled and looked back to their family having a picnic by the oak tree. “It seems everything has fallen into place.”

“Not quite everything,” Ariella said, with a smirk playing on her lips.

“You are thinking something,” Gloria observed, pointing to her sister’s smirk. “What has amused you?”

“I was just thinking how once upon a time the purpose of your life was to be a duchess!” Ariella said in a mocking tone, prompting Gloria to laugh. “I am pleased to see you abandoned that goal. Nigel makes a much better father than any Duke I have met would have done.”

“To be a duchess, why did I ever want such a thing in the first place?” Gloria laughed at herself.

“Was it fortune? Or status?” Ariella teased.

“You are cruel,” Gloria elbowed her. “Advancement, I suppose. Oh well, it was not my destiny, but it could be another’s. Perhaps my Anabelle will someday be a duchess instead?”

Ariella laughed, chuckling heartily at Gloria’s jest.

“She will have to grow up a little first.” Ariella pointed to the picnic. “Your children are raucous these days.” Ariella laughed and shook her head at the uproar the twins were causing. So much so, that Nigel and Daniel had to separate the two of them. “We should probably take pity and help our husbands.”

“They can cope for a few minutes more.” Gloria linked her arm with Ariella’s, enjoying their conversation too much to part from it so soon.

“They are sweet kids, though they are like Nigel in temperament. What is worse is that they are influencing Henry!” Ariella complained. “Henry has started pulling pranks! Our poor butler was very startled to find a frog week.”

“Oh dear, they like having playmates. That is all. They will have another playmate on the way soon…” Gloria let her meaning hang in the air. In response, Ariella’s eyes widened, and she looked down to Gloria’s stomach.

“Do you mean?”

“It seems likely, yes.” Gloria had never known so many smiles as she had worn over the last few years.

“Congratulations.” Ariella smirked. “You and Nigel do not seem capable of staying away from each other.”

Gloria laughed in response.

Since the night she had threatened to leave Nigel, their world had changed forever. What had been fear and cold distance before, mingled with passion, became devoted love, with somehow a much greater passion built in. The arrival of the twins and baby Stephen had only brought them even more happiness. Ariella was right, the two of them could not stay away from one another!

Gloria’s eyes danced across to Nigel who currently had baby Stephen in his arms as he leaned against the oak tree in the park. He was telling a grand tale to the twins and their cousin Henry, one of heroics, with plenty of mishaps built in that made them chuckle every few seconds.

My Nigel is an excellent father, indeed.

She rested a hand on her stomach, overjoyed to know that they would have another little cub to care for soon.

Me, the tiger, and all our cubs together!

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