Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
Aurelia caressed the small curve of her lower belly, near imperceptible to the naked eye, yet visible to her.
She’d suspected for several weeks that she might be with child—her monthly cycles had never been especially regular, but they had been nonexistent for the past few months—and she had called a midwife in to check.
This was it. She was with child.
And Sebastian would be a father.
The rumors were still rife through London, of course.
Both about her heritage, or lack thereof, and Sebastian’s reputation as a wife-murderer.
But Aurelia’s burning need to see that reputation repaired had dimmed somewhat.
She still intended to clear his name, and for them both to take their places in London—for their child’s sake if nothing else—but she had realized that such things took time.
Patience.
She would learn to have both for Sebastian’s sake.
He emerged from the dressing room in a splendid navy waistcoat, embroidered with golden thread, and a cravat tied in a new style that flowed about his neck in elegant lines.
He was the perfect fashionable gentleman, and she was his perfectly elegant wife, and they were attending a small soiree together.
Together.
At the sight of her, his face broke into a smile. “You look splendid, shepherdess.”
She twirled, letting him take in the details of her gown, a deep red silk that clung to her curves and dipped daringly low at the neckline. Her breasts had begun to swell a little, which meant the neckline was still more daring.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, teasing, turning her face up for the kiss that was her due. “You look rather dashing yourself.”
“One must not walk into the viper’s den without being fully armed.” He bowed, then took her gloved hand and pressed another kiss to it. “And you look as though you might start wars, Helen of Troy.”
“I intend to end wars,” Aurelia giggled, slipping her hand into his arm and making her way through their home.
A large painting of her adorned the top of the stairs, and she had negotiated the installation of sage-green curtains in half the rooms of the house.
Both because it was a color in fashion, and also because she had a preference for it.
So much had transformed over the past few months, and although some of it had been difficult, she wouldn’t change any of it. After all, it had left her here, a duchess with a loving husband and a large home that felt like hers, and a place she belonged implicitly.
And a family.
She intended to tell Sebastian tonight, and she felt no trepidation at the prospect. No fear that he might change his mind and send her away—no concern that her only function in his life was to bear his children.
Oh, he still wanted children; there could be no doubt about that. He had spent countless hours lying in bed with her, detailing all the things he wanted their children to have! Features of hers he would want to see replicated within them.
It was more than a dream come true.
He dreamed of a little girl who might take after her mother; she dreamed of a boy child with his father’s eyes.
They made their way downstairs to find Fellows waiting by the entrance, a wrapped package in his gloved hands.
“What is this?” Sebastian frowned.
“I have prepared a gift for Lady Mary Ann, Your Grace, for her help in renovating the servants’ quarters.
With your permission, I thought to accompany you and deliver it personally on behalf of the staff.
” Fellows’ expression remained perfectly neutral, but Aurelia caught the way his gaze flickered to her—brief, compassionate—before returning to his master.
Sebastian chuckled. “That’s unnecessary, old boy. We can deliver it ourselves.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Aurelia interjected smoothly, touching Sebastian’s arm. She understood what Sebastian didn’t—that Fellows had somehow pieced together her condition.
The man had always been coolly professional toward her, if a bit cold, but lately she had noticed small changes.
The way he ensured she had a cushion at breakfast. How he’d quietly removed the heavier serving platters from her reach.
This was his way of watching over her without overstepping.
“Let him come. It is kind of him to think of Mary Ann.”
As usual, Sebastian ultimately relented with pure grace.
They made their way to the waiting carriage.
Then, to Lady Mary Ann’s soiree, although on a technical note, it was being hosted by her father, seeing as she was not yet out.
Still, one did not have to be presented to the Queen in order to host and take part in Society, and Mary Ann had taken that to heart.
She would be going to London proper soon, and from then, there would be no doubt she would make a splash!
Already, prominent members of the ton were prepared to travel to attend her small soirees. That said a lot.
“What do you suppose the duchess will say upon seeing us?” Aurelia asked, the tiniest fleck of worry coating her voice.
“I imagine she will pretend as though she is enamored with us and the best of friends,” Sebastian said wryly. “After all, we have not been cowed by her previous attempts at intimidation.”
“You oughtn’t have gone after Lord Redwood and publicly humiliated him.”
“I did no such thing,” he protested, pouting innocently.
“I merely pointed out that just because he had failed to secure you as a bride did not mean that he had the right to attempt to belittle you, and if he ever attempted such a thing again, I would make sure he regretted it.” Sebastian gave what she could only assume was his best attempt at a humble shrug.
“It transpires that sage words are far less appreciated when a fist is being struck against one’s temple. ”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m hardly surprised. You might have set us back another year with that little showing.”
“But he won’t be a problem for you again.” He tilted his head, and this time there could be no denying the smugness in his expression. “You may be sure of that. And his aunt will be on her best behavior.”
Sometimes, Aurelia marveled at how far Sebastian had come. Once he put his mind to something, he committed until he had achieved it, and once he had decided they should retake their place in Society, he had gone out of his way to make that happen.
Including ensuring the Duchess of Fenwick was… Well, if not on their side, then at least not opposing them.
Whatever the rumors, Sebastian was still a duke, and he had a lot of money and power to throw around.
And she was a duchess. It had been quite some time since she had first started feeling as though she were one, and now she enjoyed the sensation of belonging in these fancy gowns and exquisite dinner parties.
That fact made the prospect of walking into this particular drawing room a far more appealing one.
When they arrived, the other guests were largely seated, and Aurelia had the pleasure of walking into the already full room and feeling everyone’s eyes on her.
Several important members of the ton were in attendance, including the lovely Miss Davenport and Miss Peterson.
As far as Aurelia knew, they were both still engaged, and a wedding date had yet to be announced.
One could only assume their prospective husbands were less than enthusiastic about the idea.
Aurelia smiled graciously at them and was rewarded with Miss Davenport flushing.
“Oh, you’re here!” Mary Ann appeared before them, clearly delighted that they had arrived and that her party had already proven so popular.
Of course, part of the reason was that the company was thin on the ground in London this time of year, shortly before the Season officially began, but Aurelia would never have pointed that out to her friend for the world.
“Hullo,” Aurelia greeted, kissing both of Mary Ann’s cheeks. Sebastian bowed over her hand, being sure to make it clear that he favored her. Anything that would help her through her Season.
“Come and sit by my father,” Mary Ann chimed, ushering them forward and sending the ghost of a wink to Aurelia. “Her Grace the Duchess of Fenwick is keeping him company, and she seemed especially eager to speak with you both.”
Aurelia was certain she was.
Biting back her smile, she followed Mary Ann to the fireside, where the Duchess of Fenwick was indeed sitting with her gnarled hands on her stick, a smile plastered to her face. The expression looked positively uncomfortable, and Aurelia met it with her own.
To think, before her marriage, she had viewed the duchess as some kind of monster, practically fire-breathing, who held her fate in her hands.
And now she viewed the lady with a certain amount of pity.
Pity for the lady who had lost her grip of the ton so clearly after years of ruling it with an iron fist.
Aurelia sat on the duchess’s other side, Sebastian standing behind her back. How the tables had turned.
“Your Grace,” the duchess declared, her fingers squeezing her walking stick as she controlled her desire to, no doubt, condemn them to the world. “How… wonderful to see you here.”
Aurelia beamed, and Sebastian let his hand rest on her shoulder for a moment. They had achieved her goals in less time than she could have thought possible—the entire world had not come to support them, perhaps, but the biggest battles were won.
Aurelia had too much kindness, and Sebastian had too much charm for them not to, and more rumors were spreading of how he had been before his first marriage, and how he was now.
Not, strictly not, a man who could ever murder his wife.
“Duchess,” Aurelia said graciously, inclining her head. “I hope there are no hard-feelings between my husband and your nephew.”
The nausea hit on the way back from the soiree. Aurelia had just enough time to exit the carriage before she vomited on the verge. Until now, she had been able to manage the worst of the symptoms with some ginger, offered to her by Jane, but now her body seemed determined to betray her.
Sebastian put a hand on her back, rubbing anxiously, the worry in his voice evident. “Aurelia. What’s wrong?”
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Well, she had intended to tell him tonight anyway; this merely pushed the news along a little. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned to face him. “I’m all right, Sebastian.”
He arched a brow. “Then why did you empty your accounts into the grass? Did you eat something that disagreed with you? Should I call a physician?”
She laid a hand on his arm, touched by his concern. “There’s no need for that. I promise you there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Then why—”
She took his hand and placed it on her lower belly, where the curve was just, with a small amount of imagination, making itself known. “Can you truly not guess, sweetheart? I would have thought it would be obvious.”
His eyes widened, and he stared at her with shock—and perhaps something else. Wonder. Awe. Relief. Bone-melting relief.
“You…” he exhaled.
The night air fluttered about them, reminding her that this was not where she had planned this conversation to take place. That was going to be in their bed, not by the side of the road in a ditch, surrounded by the gentle lowing of a cow.
“I am,” she nodded happily. “And so you see, this is perfectly normal. Women who are with child feel sick in the early stages, but it will pass, and most likely soon.”
“Do you… do you know how far along?”
She tilted her head. “Four months, perhaps?”
His eyes glistened with emotion. “I love you.”
She smiled a little at that. “I know. And I love you too. You’re going to be a father!”
“And you will be a mother. Right at home with me, where you belong.” He pulled her into him, not seeming to care that they were sitting by the side of the road, that dew was soaking the legs of his breeches, or that she presumably smelled of vomit.
“I won’t be sending you away, Aurelia. No matter how many children you have. ”
She swallowed. “Sometimes, at night, I think about them,” she admitted. “This baby. What if one day they wonder where they came from? What if they go looking for me… and I’m not there?” The ache of an old hurt still surfaced when she least expected it.
Sebastian cupped her face. “This child will never wonder if they’re wanted. Because every single day of their life, they will watch me choose you. Choose us.”
She beamed, leaning against him. “…How many would you like?”
She felt the curve of his cheek against her hair as he smiled. “Ten. At the very least.”
“At the very least? Good heavens, do you hope to kill me?”
“I hope to have a large family with you.”
“Let’s agree on five,” she said, turning to wrap her arms around him. He held her close. “Starting with this one.”
“What was your mother’s name?”
“Liliana,” she murmured, although she was certain he knew; he had looked into her background, after all, and knew more about where she came from—and from whom—than she did.
“Then, if this is a girl, I think we should call her Liliana. And your uncle?”
Aurelia half-smiled. “Roger. But I don’t want to call our boy Roger.”
“Did he have a middle name?”
“Charles.”
“I rather like Charles, don’t you?” Sebastian guided her toward the carriage where Fellows stood waiting.
The older man stepped forward to assist her up, his hand steady and careful.
Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to make him rock slightly.
“Liliana or Charles, old boy. What do you think? Acceptable names for our firstborn?” He didn’t wait for an answer, climbing in after her with a boyish grin.
They would have this conversation over and over with every child she carried. All these decisions meant something.
Her throat swelled with emotion. Everything felt heightened these days—she could hardly go a day without crying!
Fortunately, these tears were happy ones.
She had everything in the world to be grateful for, and she would continue to have new things to be grateful for as long as she had Sebastian with her.
Until they were both old and gray.
What a privilege that was. And to think, it had only come about because Sebastian had wanted a throwaway wife and heir! How much more they had than that now.
The faint smell of sea salt reached her, even with the windows closed. Once, it had felt alien. Now it meant home. Their children’s clothes would smell like it. Sebastian’s hair. Her own skin.
His hand wrapped around hers as they made their way back to the home they shared, and there was nothing more in the entire world she could have wanted more.
The End?