Page 92 of A Secret Consequence for the Viscount

‘Well, it’s in safe hands at least.’ Oliver’s voice held a good deal of the same humour. ‘He has not paid us for all the bottles of liquor stored in the cellar after all, so we need to be sure to drink up deeply.’

‘Can I come with you, Papa? Can I go to the club, too?’

‘No, you may not, Lucy, until you are at least twenty years older and hopefully not even then.’ Nicholas sounded like a protective father, his tone all that of a man who had never had a wild and reckless youth. ‘It’s bed for you in order to be up early for all the celebrations. But your mama, on the other hand, is most welcome to dance just with me until the morning.’

His eyes were bright with love, the wary distance gone now to be replaced by joy. A family man, a man of the land, a man who had discovered his place in life and in her heart.

Eleanor raised her own glass.

‘Here’s to the Christmases past and all those to come, for blessed is the season that makes the whole world love.’

And under her breath she thanked God for the best Christmas present she had ever received, the first fluttering of a new life quiet in her womb.

Tonight she would tell Nicholas when they were alone, tucked in their bed under the patched quilt on the second floor of the Bromley town house, a waxing Yuletide moon outside.

Breathing in, she looked over at her husband and when his glance caught hers she tipped her head and he tipped his back, a secret smile across his face.

Perhaps he already knew?

Her world was so full of promise and hope that she felt her own mother and father close.

You would have loved Nicholas, she thought, just as the Yuletide log suddenly flared.

They were watching with Ralph, she knew they were, from up above. Tonight of all nights she understood the eternity of family as she had not before as somewhere close the strains of a Christmas song could be heard on the wind.

Hark! the herald angels sing

Glory to the newborn king!

Peace on earth, and mercy mild

God and sinners reconciled

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