Epilogue
“Have you finished, then?” Marie asked, coming up to stand behind Charles where he sat at his desk. “We’ve dinner tonight with Tristan, you remember. He said he has news of his own today. We shouldn’t be late.”
The sun was near-to-setting, an orange glow cast through the window and filling the room with a golden, peaceful ambiance.
She wrapped her arms around Charles’s shoulders and leant down to rest her cheek against his. He leaned in, welcoming her embrace.
“I’ve finished just now,” he said, signing his name at the bottom of the letter. “They’ll be in for a surprise, will they not?”
“They certainly will.”
More than a month had passed by since the ball—a month filled with bliss and joy and laughter—and only now Charles had chosen to write to his friends, alerting them of his recent marriage and of his plans to host a special house party for them all to attend so the seven of them might come together to meet his new wife.
“Do you think they will come?” Marie asked.
“I know Tristan will,” Charles said, standing from his seat.
He wrapped his arms around her, and Marie responded in the same manner.
“I imagine they’ll all make an effort, though,” he continued. “I’m certain they will wish to see who else has any plans to wed.”
“You must be relieved you don’t have to pay the wager. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”
He placed a kiss to her brow, then her temple, then her cheek. “I do appreciate your efforts in that regard, but I must say, I’m more relieved to have my wife want to stay married to me.”
She smiled as he continued trailing kisses across her features, brushing her lips in the process.
“As if I had any other choice,” she said, swiftly losing focus. “The moment Childish Charlie vanished, I was lost.”
He pulled up with an unimpressed look. “I thought we agreed not to use that name?”
“You did. I agreed to nothing of the sort.”
He grimaced. “Then might I request you do not speak it in front of my friends? Particularly my brother?”
“Afraid they’ll take to using it, too?”
“I’m afraid they’ll see the truth in it,” he stated.
She laughed. “I hope you know, I don’t truly see you as a child.”
“Even though you are older than me?”
She tipped her head to the side. “Does that bother you?”
“Not even the smallest amount.” He pulled her in closer, smoothing his thumbs up and down her back as he held her.
“In fact, I rather like it. It will certainly prove to give me a different reputation with my friends. They think me rather immature, if you can believe it, so when they discover that I not only managed to capture the most beautiful of wives, but the most mature, the most regal, and the most lovely of all women—two years my senior—they will be beside themselves with shock.” He leaned closer to her.
“In fact, they might very well be jealous that I managed to catch the eye of an older woman.”
“Is that all you care about?” she teased, her mind swirling at his loving words.
“Certainly not. But after the amount of jealousy I felt when other men interacted with you, it would be satisfying to be on the other side of it.”
She laughed again, then stood on the tips of her toes to finally press their lips together.
He returned it with a deep, lingering kiss, but when he scooped her up in his arms, she broke off with a joyful yelp. “What are you doing, you scoundrel?”
“Spending some time with my wife,” he said with a flash of his eyebrows.
He leaned forward to kiss her again, but she pulled back with a finger on his lips. “Oh, no, you don’t. We have dinner, remember?”
“Tristan can wait.”
But Marie shook her head. “You know he cannot wait. I wouldn’t put it past him to knock on our door and tell us to get downstairs.”
Charles sighed. “Very well.” Gently, he lowered her to the ground as he softly muttered, “Ruin all my fun.”
She laughed, giving him a swat on his arm before pulling him in for another kiss. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“How so?”
She thought for a moment. “Perhaps when your parents leave for London next, we may remain behind and have the house all to ourselves.” She looked up at him with a coy smile.
“We can behave however we wish. And I might even request that you eat breakfast how you did at Woewood that first morning together.”
Her eyes dropped to his covered chest, and she rested a hand to it, imagining that morning a few weeks before.
Charles grinned, once again pulling her into his arms, as if he simply could not help himself. “You are my favorite, Marie.”
She beamed up at him. “I’m going to be your favorite even more when I tell you I have another surprise for you.”
His eyes widened. “You’re with child?”
“What?” She laughed. “Heavens, no. It’s far too early for that.”
He looked disappointed for a fleeting moment, then shrugged. “I suppose.” He gave his head a shake, then smiled with intrigue. “So what surprise is it, then?”
“I’ve written to my friend, Mrs. Chumley,” she began.
“The one with the bird observing husband?”
“The very one. I have only now received a letter back, telling me they are moving forward with their bird observation expedition across England. They have one of the top observers in the country, a Mr. Henry Branok, coming to teach, and...I have claimed two spots for us to attend.”
His eyes brightened. “What a splendid idea for our next adventure.”
“You can bring along Tristan if you prefer. Or one of your other friends. I don’t have to...”
She trailed off as he shook his head.
“Surely you already know,” he began, his eyes searching hers, “there is no one I would rather go on an adventure with than you, my darling.”
And as she peered up into his eyes, she knew he spoke the truth.
After another kiss, he took her hand in his and left the room.
“Now, come along,” he said. “You weren’t wrong about Tristan. I expect he’ll be on his way up here already.”
“What news do you think he has for us?”
Charles shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest.”
“Perhaps your mother has worked her magic and found a wife for him,” Marie suggested.
“It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with a knowing look. “Or the last.”
Then with a kiss to the back of her hand, he led her down the corridor. Marie leaned into him, reveling in the comfort she felt in his mere presence and knowing no matter what adventures lay ahead, all would be well with a man like Charles Shepherd as her husband.
My Charles, indeed.
THE END