Page 97 of His Illegitimate Duchess

O n a particularly bright July morning, as she sat by the large bay window that her husband had commissioned the best Norfolk glassworkers to make for her in the morning room of their Norwich home, a heavily pregnant Duchess Elizabeth Talbot looked back at everything that had happened during the last fifteen years and took stock of her life nowadays.

As her mind wandered, she took sips of her hot chocolate and soothingly stroked her firm, already somewhat tense, stomach.

The house was busy and full these days, so these stolen moments in the morning were the only time she had to herself, and if the tension of her stomach was any indication, there would be even less of it soon. And yet, she was looking forward to it.

Isabella and Charlotte were staying at Norwich with their families, and Nicholas was also due to arrive today. She glanced out the window to see her wonderful three children playing with their cousins and friends as Mary’s only daughter, Beth, calmly sat on a bench nearby and read.

Lizzie couldn’t contain her smile at the thought of how different the girl was from her loud, assertive mother. Mary had spent many a night in the kitchen complaining about having given birth to the female version of her husband.

“And when she isn’t in that workshop with him, all she does is read, just like her godmother!” She’d say accusingly.

Mary was no longer Elizabeth’s lady’s maid; those duties now belonged to Stevenson’s wife, Kitty. Despite having become a married man after his childhood sweetheart was widowed, Stevenson had declined all alternatives he’d been offered and had chosen to continue serving as Colin’s valet.

After Mrs Hughes had retired and gone to live in a wonderful cottage nearby that the Talbots had gifted her, Mary had taken over the helm of the Norwich household, and she excelled in the position. She ruled with an iron fist, and Mr Brandon often half-joked that he feared her.

Thomas had, indeed, visited after Mary’s daughter was born, and he’d brought with him a wife from the West Indies, which had caused quite the commotion among everyone who knew him.

Lizzie’s overdue reconciliation with him had been tearful and emotional, and even Talbot had been forced to set aside his jealousy when Thomas had pressed a coin into Lizzie’s hand.

“I never spent it. Even at my poorest, I couldn’t… Knowing what your father had paid me for…”

That coin now sat framed in their library, the heart of their home, where they played and read with their children and bonded as a couple in the evenings. It was a reminder of many things, some bitter and some sweet, some devastating and some hopeful, just like life itself.

On some days, the coin served as a reminder of what money should best be spent on.

There were people, like Elizabeth’s father, who chose to use their wealth to indulge their base impulses or hurt others, but Elizabeth’s family used theirs to improve the lives of their fellow men.

The year they had decided that they would stay in England, Elizabeth and Colin had joined forces with the Coopers and other like-minded people even more decisively, and in the years that followed, the Talbot name became synonymous with both charity and progress.

When Elizabeth and Colin had decided to live in the Mayfair house full-time whenever they were in London, the duke had insisted on changing the lighting and plumbing in the house, and when Mrs Barlow and Mr Ed had permanently transferred to the Norwich house after Mary had given birth, Mrs Clarke moved in to run the kitchen.

That was when everything had fallen into place for Talbot and he’d declared Mayfair the superior residence .

Since he no longer had any use for his St. James’s Square house, they had it transformed into a home for elderly paupers, which Hettie now lived in and helped at. Her main duty was teaching new arrivals how to use the pipes for bathing.

After Elizabeth had gifted him James Lackington’s autobiography, Colin was so inspired by the man’s story of hard work and success that he told everyone about it.

Eventually, he’d lent the book to Pratt, whose change for the better over the last ten years had surprised everyone who knew him, and after Pratt had found himself equally impressed by it, the two friends decided to start an investment society which would fund people from all walks of life who had come up with promising projects or inventions.

Every other Monday, Pratt and Talbot would sit in their office at the St. James Square house and listen to proposals.

This endeavour had not only turned out to be lucrative beyond their wildest dreams, but throughout the years, it had also helped light candles to illuminate the way for hundreds of men and women whose brilliant ideas would have stayed in the dark otherwise.

On other days, the coin reminded Elizabeth of the many tokens they had seen at the Foundling Hospital, and the many children that no one had ever returned to claim.

Working with them remained an integral part of the couple’s lives, both in London and in Norfolk.

Elizabeth was now the head of a coordinated network of volunteer teachers that worked on spreading literacy in various hospitals and schools in the city, whereas the former foundling children, William and Mary, who were now a married couple, worked tirelessly with the Brandons in the Norwich wing of the Foundling Hospital.

Cousin Andrew, who hadn’t married his childhood fiancée after all (but that was a whole other story), had accepted the living at Norwich and now served its community alongside his lovely wife, and together with the Brandons and all their adopted children, implemented numerous charitable and educational programs in their parish.

They needed all the help they could get, since the Norwich wing of the Foundling Hospital, which had initially only held babies and wet nurses, had, over the years, expanded to include a summer program for the older children from the city.

“The air is cleaner here, and how else are they going to learn how to swim?” Colin had said nonchalantly, but his wife knew the truth; namely, that her husband wholeheartedly believed that every child deserved a childhood and was doing his part to make that happen, both through their charitable work and in Parliament.

These days, the Talbots mostly lived in Norwich, but they gladly went down to London whenever Colin was needed in sessions.

When they had returned to the city in the autumn of 1821, they had slowly started going out into polite society again, mostly for political reasons, since Colin was championing many initiatives that needed the support of his peers.

Elizabeth had quickly noticed that everyone in the Ton had suddenly adopted an unexpected view of her husband as this romantic hero and were all rather charmed by his infatuation with her, if in a slightly patronising way, like one would be by a precocious child.

And he played along extremely well – he was glued to her side, behaved very lovingly and attentively, and was always pulling her into empty rooms to kiss and touch and pet her in the most scandalous of ways.

“Admit it, Colin, you’re only doing this so people would comment on how unfashionable you are instead of remembering how we got wed?” She’d told him once as he was unlacing the front of her dress just enough for what he wanted to do.

“You caught me,” he’d responded dryly.

In the end, it didn’t matter too much to either of them what the Ton thought, for their real life was elsewhere. And that life soon included the first new member of their family.

Nothing could have prepared Elizabeth for the reaction her husband would have when she announced to him that she was expecting, nor for the attentiveness and protectiveness he would exhibit during every one of her pregnancies.

He’d been both elated and terrified, and she’d never felt more precious or taken care of than during those months when she carried their three children under her heart. And once they were born… Colin, as a papa, was the most intoxicating and attractive thing in existence.

Seeing him gently cradle their children’s tiny heads in his large hands always infused her heart with safety and joy, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that her children would always be loved and cared for, and that their father would be the strong oak they would be able to hide under during the storms that life would inevitably throw at them.

In the summer of 1822, however, during her first confinement, those future joys had been just a prayer that she’d say whenever she’d felt her baby move inside her.

That August, Baron Waldegrave and Louisa had come to stay with them for a while. They’d been accompanied by the Baron’s father, Earl Slaymaker, who had taken one look at Elizabeth’s mother and was instantly unable to leave her side for the next several weeks.

Catherine had been both confused and flattered by the charming man’s intense attentions, but as she got to know him better, she had slowly started looking forward to walking down the stairs every morning and diving into one of their long and interesting conversations that only meals or bedtime could put an end to.

On the morning when they had originally been supposed to say goodbye to each other, Catherine and the Earl were wed right there in Colin and Lizzie’s home.

The bride was radiant and overwhelmed with happiness, and a very pregnant Elizabeth was all snot and tears.

Even Colin was seen surreptitiously wiping his eyes several times.

Catherine’s mother and brother had also been present at the wedding; Talbot had managed to contact them and facilitate the reconciliation some months prior.

Unfortunately, Catherine’s father had already passed away before they’d had a second chance at a relationship, but the rest of the family were eager to accept her (and her daughter) back into the fold.