Page 52

EPILOGUE

Two Years Later

Henry

Christmas at Crosswood Hall was something to behold.

As I had every year, I instructed Fortescue to ensure no expense was spared. This was to be Isabella’s third Christmas, and although she likely would not remember the event, I wanted to be able to assure her that every year we celebrated in grand style.

Said niece, in a crushed-velvet forest-green dress, sat in Lord John’s lap as he amused her by making ridiculous faces. Her blonde ringlet curls bobbed as she laughed uproariously.

He was always a favorite of hers.

As the hour grew late, I bade Mrs. Fernsby to take the girl to bed.

All the men at our Christmas Eve party waved goodnight to the little cherub. She had all of us wrapped around her baby finger.

I had arranged a grand party belowstairs for the servants so they could revel in the season. Casual help had been arranged for both the upstairs and downstairs celebrations. I assured them my guests and I would not be in need of their services tonight and to enjoy Christmas Eve to themselves.

Naturally, I required Percy.

And had asked him to join me in the drawing room along with our four guests.

Lord John Blackthorne and his valet Phillip.

Lord Kenneth Stanhope and his valet Walter.

Kenneth had made John’s acquaintance in London, and although he kept a townhouse in that busy city, he had acquired an estate nearby where he and his valet could enjoy quiet country living.

Away from the prying eyes of Kenneth’s family, the ton, and London busybodies.

John had facilitated the introductions, and now we six met regularly.

Walter grinned after Isabella and Mrs. Fernsby departed. “She is charming, Henry.”

When we were just the six, we used Christian names. No formality. Which suited since each of us was a couple consisting of a lord and a valet.

Like John and myself, Walter had dark skin. His Kenneth was as fair as both Phillip and my Percy. We all made striking couples.

Percy grinned. “She very much rules Crosswood Hall.”

“Bravo.” Phillip held his glass aloft. “She will make an admirable mistress someday.”

“Hear, hear.” I clinked my glass with his.

“Not too soon, though.” Percy narrowed his eyes at me. “You have much living yet to do”. He and I were older than Kenneth and Walter as well as John. Only Phillip had us all beat in years wandering the earth.

“Never let it be said I am not cared for.” I gazed lovingly at my man. His father had passed last year. A tragedy, to be certain, but Mr. Dankworth had shared his memories of my mother with me before he died, and that had been a gift.

“Well done.” Kenneth grinned—still quite boyish despite having reached the quarter-century mark. “Oh, John, have you heard from Captain and Mrs. Wentworth? Will they be visiting soon?”

We had all made the acquaintance of John and Phillip’s former captain along with the man’s lovely wife.

“Alas, no.” John feigned upset, but his frown quickly morphed into a smile. “Mrs. Wentworth is expecting again, and so she and the captain will not be coming north this year.”

“Perhaps we should make a pilgrimage to visit them.” Kenneth’s grin did not diminish.

Although he had little in common with a sea captain, he and Mrs. Wentworth—formerly Anne Elliot—had much in common as they were both children of nobility.

He of a viscount and she of a baronet. Children of privilege, although only Kenneth came from true wealth.

Anne had confided her family’s circumstances, although their fortunes appeared to be improving as the eldest daughter, Elizabeth, was rumored to be marrying well. And soon. Their youngest sister Mary, and her family, were in good health, which reassured Anne.

“ If Captain invites us, then we shall visit.” John offered what I thought of as his shy smile. “If this child is as handsome as their daughter?—”

“Perhaps they will have a son.” Walter arched an eyebrow.

Phillip placed a hand to his heart. “A healthy child.”

We all raised our glasses to that notion.

Hours later, as Percy clung to me after a fervent bout of lovemaking, I had to blink back tears.

“Henry?” He brushed his thumb under my eyes. “What is it, my dear?”

“I did not know—” I sniffed.

“Did not know,” he prompted.

“That I could be so happy.” I blinked again, bringing him in and out of focus in the light of the one candle.

His grin was beatific. “You make me just as happy. Now, we must not spoil Isabella, though.”

The two unconnected sentences had his clearly intended effect as I stopped focusing on my inner turmoil and instead thought of all the ways I would spoil my niece.

Mrs. Fernsby would be strict with her. The child did not, after all, run wild.

She possessed William’s stubbornness and Caroline’s joie de vivre.

The spirit I had been so drawn to all those years ago.

I would never regret their marriage. I would continue to mourn their deaths.

I would live each day as a tribute to their lives and be the best guardian to my niece that I could be.

Percy extinguished the candle, then drew me into his arms. “Two years together feels like a lifetime.”

“We have known each other all our lives,” I reminded him.

He chuckled. “I believe I have loved you that long.”

I sighed. My leg no longer bothered me, and I was no longer angry about my missing arm. I had very much come to accept my fate and, because of Percy, embrace my second chance at life. “I love you.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you more. Rest well, my love. Tomorrow is Christmas. You want to be well-rested for Isabella’s sake.”

And since I did, I took his advice and fell into a deep and restful sleep—comforted that I had the two people I loved most in the world by my side.