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“I’d love that,” she told him, meaning it.

They finally neared the village, and before they’d gone in, the cries of excited children met her ears.

“His Grace is here!” they cried, running towards them.

“Your Grace!” they cried, all trying to hug Edward.

“Good afternoon, little ones!” He smiled at them, picking up a little girl with cute pigtails. “How do you do, Bessie?”

“I am well, Your Grace.” She smiled, handing him a small flower. “Mother said ye’d be coming today, so I picked this for you.”

“It’s as beautiful as you,” he told her, placing the flower behind her ear.

The little girl reddened and buried her face in his shoulders..

Arabella was struck again with the fact that they would never have a little one of their own, that Edward would never get to experience this sort of happiness if she kept herself tied to him.

He turned to her then, with a smile brighter than anything she’d ever seen, which faltered at the look on her face. She shook her head to ease his concern and stepped closer.

“You look very pretty, Bessie.” She smiled at the little girl.

“Thank you, My Lady.” Bessie blushed. “You’re also very pretty. Are you a princess?”

“No.” Arabella shook her head.

“Why not?” Bessie asked, frowning. “You look like a princess.”

“It takes more than that to be a princess, love.”

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.” Arabella feigned a serious look. “I would have to marry a prince.”

“If you marry His Grace, will you be a princess?”

She pretended to consider it and nodded. “Yes.”

“Hmm. We are supposed to marry when I am old enough.”

“Oh, really?”

“Indeed. My father told me so.”

“I am happy for you, then. Perhaps I’ll wear my pretty purple dress to your wedding.”

“Don’t you want to be a princess?”

“I do.”

“Then I will allow you to marry him.”

Arabella bit back a laugh. “You are far too kind, Bessie.”

“You are welcome.” Bessie wiggled free of Edward’s arms and came to take her hand. “Come and meet my mother. She makes the best apple pies.”

“We’ll come soon, dear one. Run along now.” Edward shooed them off. “I asked the baker to make you all cookies.”

Cries of joy arose as tiny feet rushed towards the center of the village.