Epilogue
TWO MONTHS LATER…
“The roses are magnificent this year.”
Lord Brimsey leaned on his cane and surveyed the gardens of Heatherwell Hall with obvious pleasure. The color had returned to his cheeks over the past months, and his frame had filled out. His eyes were bright with renewed vitality.
“The gardener deserves the credit.” Sophia tucked her hand through her father’s arm. “I merely point and make suggestions.”
“Nonsense.” Her father patted her hand. “You have transformed this place. It feels like a home now, not a museum.”
Sophia gazed across the lawn, where their guests had gathered for the afternoon.
The garden party had been Edward’s idea, a chance to celebrate the end of the Season and the beginning of something new.
Tables dotted the grass, laden with refreshments.
Children darted between the hedgerows. Laughter and conversation filled the summer air.
Oliver chased Rosie and Nancy through the rose garden, his delighted shrieks echoing across the grounds. Alice watched from a nearby bench, her hand resting on her swelling belly, while Thomas stood guard with the weary vigilance of a father who had learned to expect chaos.
Hugo lounged beneath an oak tree, a glass of champagne dangling from his fingers.
A pretty young widow had claimed the seat beside him, her laughter carrying on the breeze.
Hugo smiled and said something that made her blush, but his eyes held a distance that Sophia had not noticed before. A restlessness. A searching.
She filed the observation away for later.
Near the refreshment table, Mr. Colborne stood in animated conversation with Lord Brimsey’s physician.
The two men had struck up an unlikely friendship over the past weeks, bonded by their shared interest in medical advances and their mutual affection for the Brimsey family.
Mr. Colborne caught Sophia’s eye and raised his glass in a subtle toast.
She smiled back, her heart full.
“Sophia!”
A familiar voice cut through the crowd. Sophia turned to find her sister hurrying across the lawn, skirts lifted to avoid the grass, her face alight with joy.
“Lily.” Sophia embraced her fiercely. “You made it.”
“Barely.” Lily pulled back, her eyes dancing. “Aunt Margaret insisted on stopping at every inn between Dover and London. I thought we would never arrive.”
As if summoned, Aunt Margaret appeared behind Lily, her traveling dress immaculate, her expression caught between disapproval and curiosity. She surveyed the garden party with the critical eye of a woman who found fault with everything but occasionally discovered something worth praising.
“The grounds are acceptable.” She sniffed. “Though I would have chosen different flowers for the borders.”
“It is lovely to see you as well, Aunt Margaret.” Sophia kissed her cheek. “Come. Let me introduce you to Edward.”
She led them across the lawn to where Edward stood with Oliver, the two of them examining a particularly impressive beetle that the boy had discovered in the grass. Edward looked up as they approached, his face softening at the sight of his wife.
“Your Grace.” Lily curtsied with exaggerated formality. “I have heard a great deal about you.”
“All terrible, I hope.” Edward’s lips twitched. “Otherwise, Sophia has not been doing her job.”
Lily laughed. “I think I shall like you very much.”
Oliver tugged at Edward’s sleeve. “Uncle Edward, is this the aunt who traveled all over the world?”
“This is Sophia’s sister, Lily.” Edward crouched to Oliver’s level. “She has been to France, Italy, and Spain.”
Oliver’s eyes went wide. “Did you see any dragons?”
“Sadly, no.” Lily smiled down at him. “But I saw a very large lizard in Naples. It was almost as impressive.”
“Can you tell me about it?” Oliver grabbed her hand. “Please?”
Lily allowed herself to be dragged toward a nearby bench, already launching into an elaborate tale of Italian wildlife. Aunt Margaret followed, her expression suggesting she had opinions about the accuracy of Lily’s account.
Edward slipped his arm around Sophia’s waist. “Your sister is charming.”
“She is trouble.” Sophia leaned into him. “But the best kind.”
They stood together, watching their family spread across the lawn. Lady Brimsey had joined Aunt Margaret, the two women settling into conversation with the ease of old acquaintances.
“Did you hear about Lady Whitmore’s daughter?” Aunt Margaret’s voice carried across the grass. “Engaged to the Earl of Hartington. They say Lady Fairhart arranged the match.”
“Lady Fairhart is everywhere these days.” Lady Brimsey nodded sagely. “Half the marriages in London can be traced back to her influence.”
“Remarkable woman.” Aunt Margaret sniffed. “Though I cannot approve of such secrecy. A lady should be known by her works.”
Sophia felt Edward’s arm tighten around her. He leaned close, his breath warm against her ear.
“I am proud of you.” His voice was low, meant only for her. “For everything you have built. Everything you continue to do.”
She turned her face into his shoulder, hiding her smile.
The scandal of Edward’s boxing had flared briefly through the ton before dying down, as scandals involving dukes did.
A few matrons had clucked their tongues.
A few gentlemen had made jokes about pugilistic pastimes.
But Edward was wealthy, powerful, and notably uninterested in society’s opinion, and so the matter had faded into irrelevance.
He had not returned to the tavern. Had not felt the need. The restlessness that had driven him to seek violence had quieted, replaced by something softer. Something that looked like peace.
As for Drakeston, he had fled England within days of their confrontation. Rumors placed him variously in France, in Italy, and in America. Sophia did not care where he had gone, only that he was gone. That shadow had lifted from their lives for good.
A servant approached with a tray of champagne. Edward took two glasses and pressed one into Sophia’s hand.
“Shall we?” He raised an eyebrow.
Sophia’s heart fluttered. They had discussed this moment, planned it together. And yet now that it had arrived, her nerves threatened to overwhelm her.
She nodded.
Edward raised his glass and called for attention. The guests gathered closer, conversations trailing off, faces turning toward their host with curious expectation.
“Thank you all for joining us today.” Edward’s voice carried across the lawn. “Sophia and I are grateful to have you here, to share this celebration with the people who matter most to us.”
He looked at Sophia. She looked at him. Something passed between them, silent and certain.
“We have an announcement to make.” Edward’s hand found hers. “In approximately six months, our family will be growing. Sophia is expecting.”
The garden erupted.
Lady Brimsey burst into tears. Lord Brimsey beamed with pride. Alice shrieked and embraced Sophia so tightly that Thomas had to pry her away. Hugo raised his glass with a grin that held genuine warmth. Lily bounced on her toes, demanding to know if it would be a boy or a girl or possibly twins.
Oliver pushed through the crowd and tugged at Sophia’s skirt.
“Does this mean I will have a cousin?” His face shone with excitement. “A real cousin? To play with?”
Sophia crouched to his level and took his small hands in hers. “Yes, sweetheart. You will have a little cousin. Someone to teach about dragons and beetles and all the important things.”
“I will be the best cousin.” Oliver declared. “I will teach them everything. Even how to paint purple horses.”
Edward lifted the boy into his arms. “I know you will.”
The congratulations continued, a warm tide of joy and well-wishes. Mr. Colborne caught Sophia’s eye and bowed with quiet dignity; his face creased in a genuine smile. Lord Brimsey clapped Edward on the shoulder with more strength than anyone had seen from him in years.
Through it all, Sophia held onto Edward’s hand and let herself believe that this was real. That this happiness was hers to keep.
Later, when the guests had departed and the servants had cleared the lawn, Sophia and Edward retreated to the small balcony off their chambers.
The sun was setting over the gardens, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. The air was soft with the scent of flowers and the distant song of birds settling in for the night.
Sophia leaned against the railing, her hand resting on her still-flat stomach. Edward stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
“Are you happy?” His voice was soft.
“Deliriously.” She turned in his arms to face him. “Are you?”
“I did not know it was possible to feel like this.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “To have so much. To want nothing more than exactly what I have.”
“Nothing?” She raised an eyebrow.
His lips curved. “Well. Perhaps one thing.”
He kissed her. Slow and deep, with all the tenderness and passion that had grown between them over these months. She melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, her heart so full it ached.
When they broke apart, both breathing harder, he swept her into his arms and carried her inside.
“Edward.” She laughed against his neck. “The servants—”
“Know better than to disturb us.” He lay her on the bed and followed her down, his weight a welcome anchor. “We are newlyweds. This is expected.”
“We have been married for months.”
“Then we are enthusiastic newlyweds.” He kissed her jaw, her throat, the hollow beneath her ear. “I intend to be enthusiastic for the next fifty years at least.”
The gown loosened and slipped away. Her stays followed, then her shift, until she lay bare before him in the moonlight that spilled through the windows.
Edward went still.
His gaze traced the lines of her body, lingering on the subtle changes that pregnancy had wrought. The fullness of her breasts. The gentle swell of her belly was barely visible but unmistakably present. The soft glow of her skin in the silver light.
“You are so beautiful.” His voice emerged rough, reverent. “I look at you, and I cannot quite believe you are real. That you are mine. That you are carrying my child.”
Sophia reached for him, but he caught her hands and pressed them gently back to the pillows.
“Not yet.” He sank to his knees beside the bed. “Let me worship you first.”
He lifted her foot and pressed a kiss to the delicate arch. His lips traced upward, featherlight, over her ankle, along the curve of her calf. She shivered beneath his touch, her breath catching as his mouth climbed higher.
He kissed the inside of her knee. The sensitive skin of her thigh. His hands followed where his lips led, reverent and unhurried, mapping the territory of her body as though committing every inch to memory.
When he reached her belly, he paused. His palm spread across the gentle curve, warm and protective. He bent his head and pressed his lips there, a promise for the life growing within.
“You have given me everything.” He murmured against her skin. “A family. A home. A reason to believe that I could be more than what my father made me.” He looked up at her, his eyes bright with emotion. “I will spend the rest of my life being worthy of this. Of you.”
Sophia’s eyes stung with tears. She reached down and cupped his face in her hands, drawing him up to her.
“You already are.”
She pulled his mouth back to hers and let the world fall away. When he entered her, it was slow and languid. He nestled the tip of his length at her entrance and teased her until she begged for him.
“Edward, please,” Sophia gasped.
Edward emitted a low growl and slid the length of him inside her. Sophia rose up to meet him, grasping his buttocks. She writhed against him, urging him with her hips to go deeper.
Hot waves of pleasure washed over her just as he released, and their cries echoed together.
Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, the last light of sunset fading to dusk beyond the windows. Sophia traced patterns on Edward’s chest while he played with the ends of her hair.
“I have been thinking.” She murmured.
“Dangerous.” His voice was drowsy with contentment.
She swatted his chest. “About names. For the baby.”
Edward’s hand stilled in her hair. “And?”
“If it is a boy, I thought perhaps… Leonard.” She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “If you would like that.”
Something moved across his face. Grief and gratitude and love, all tangled together.
“I would like that very much.” His voice was rough.
“And if it is a girl?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Jane.”
Sophia smiled and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Leonard or Jane. Either way, they will be loved.”
“They will be loved.” Edward agreed. He gathered her closer, his arms tightening around her. “As you are loved. As Oliver is loved. As this whole impossible, wonderful life we have built is loved.”
She nestled against him, her ear pressed to his heartbeat, steady and sure.
Outside, the stars emerged one by one, scattered across the darkening sky. Inside, in the warmth of their chamber, in the circle of each other’s arms, Sophia and Edward held onto the happiness they had fought so hard to find.
It had not been easy. It had not been simple. But it had been worth every moment of struggle, every tear, every leap of faith.
This was their happily ever after.
And it was only just beginning.
The End?