Epilogue
ALEXANDER
FOUR YEARS LATER
The sun was high in the afternoon sky as I reined in Knight and sat looking over my estate.
Fields of wheat danced in the afternoon breeze of the late spring.
Various crops splashed numerous hues of green around the countryside.
Patches of flowers perfumed the air. The breeze was warm and smelled of the rich earth.
Farmers toiled around me, their horses and plows working hard to cultivate the land.
I looked toward Milton Manor, seeing the new structures still rising from the rubble, the crops taking shape.
Cottages for the tenants dotted the land, the first item of business Edward and I had concluded on the estate.
We had torn down the decaying house and stables, rebuilding newer, more modern buildings in their place.
Lydia had been beyond excited at the thought of residing in a home with running water.
Being the mistress of a house as lovely as the new edifice was a joy to her.
I had worked with Edward and the company employed to erect their home.
It was more modest than most estates but suited Edward and Lydia perfectly.
Maddie was thrilled her friend would be so close, and I was pleased to know Edward would be with me, still at my side, as he had been all these years.
Together, we ran the already profitable estate, and I knew the riches would only grow.
I looked at the small bundles I carried on my steed, knowing Maddie would roll her eyes and tell me I was spoiling her and our children again.
And she would, as usual, be correct.
But I refused to stop.
My family was my greatest joy. My treasure.
Our son, Andrew Charles, was pure sunshine.
He looked like me, but he had his mother’s sweet temperament.
He was inquisitive and intelligent. Tall for his age and robust. Kind and loving.
He toddled around, always asking questions, constantly climbing onto my lap.
I insisted he was the cleverest boy I had ever met.
Barely past three years of age, he had an incredible vocabulary.
He was curious about everything and loved to walk the estate with Edward and me.
He enjoyed digging and farming with us. He could name seeds, plants, and birds.
He knew a weed from a shrub. The tenants loved him, and I was certain one day he would be a good master.
His table manners, however, still required some polish.
He enjoyed his meals thoroughly, his hands his preferred way of eating.
Maddie was endlessly patient, and I had given up worrying about the Axminster or the table.
We removed the carpet for the time being as the servants found it easier to sweep the wood floors, and the table was protected with a heavy cloth.
Watching Maddie coax him to use a fork or spoon often made me laugh.
He would smile his sunny smile, nod, eat a mouthful or two, become impatient, then discard the utensil in favor of a fistful of beef or potatoes that he would jam into his mouth and chew away on.
We loved his antics. Maddie and I enjoyed his company, so he ate with us daily.
Scandalous to some, but for us, it was normal.
I didn’t want my children to be seen and not heard.
Maddie had no desire for a nursemaid to raise her children.
We had help but were very involved. We agreed we had years to teach them all the manners they would require, but they were small for such a short time, we wished to enjoy them.
Andrew loved his mother fiercely, gazing at her in rapt adoration when she spoke with him.
He enjoyed it when she read to him or they sat together drawing.
She encouraged his artistic side, and I was pleased to see it.
I wished for him to know the love of arts as well as the land and his duties as a future marquess. I wanted him to have it all.
I knew it was thought that I was strange. And Maddie odd. Edward had informed me I was quietly referred to as the “eccentric marquess” in certain circles.
“Stories of your family shock the ton,” he informed me.
“Children eating with their parents. Spending hours with them daily—not just an appointment. Digging in the dirt alongside their father like common farmers. Supping with locals as if that was normal. Best friends with commoners.” He opened his eyes wide. “Not wearing hats.”
I had laughed hard at his imitations of the London town folk. I liked being different. And since Maddie and I went to London rarely, their opinion mattered not.
Our friends, those I had known and valued since my school days, knew me.
Knew us. Knew the truth. And it was their opinions that mattered.
The people of the village knew us and regarded us as their benefactors.
They didn’t care if I missed some dirt under my nails when I went into a shop.
Or if my son rode on my shoulders and pretended I was his steed in the middle of the street, pulling on my hair and yelling, “Go, Papa! Go!” They loved the fact that my wife drove the wagon herself into town, dropping off fresh vegetables to the villagers who needed them the most—just like my mother used to do. We were welcomed. Respected.
I urged Knight forward, suddenly anxious to see my family.
As I approached the manor, I smiled, seeing my wife and children outside, no doubt waiting for me.
Andrew was playing in the grass with a ball, his little sister not far from him, her arms in the air, and I assumed, demanding the ball and his attention.
Our daughter, Charlotte Rose, favored her mother in looks, but she had my dark eye color.
Maddie insisted she had my temperament, and I feared she was correct.
Tiny scowls and insistent demands were regular occurrences with my little girl.
She expressed her displeasure with a stare that looked far too familiar.
I had seen it in the mirror often. Maddie laughed, on occasion citing her sympathy for the man Charlotte fell in love with.
“He will have his hands full,” she murmured. “I fear your daughter will be a hurricane.”
“Is that a personal observation, Maddie mine?” I asked, linking my arms around her waist and pulling her back to me. “A comparison to her sire?”
“She will charm him the way you charmed me,” she replied. “And he will spend his life trying to keep up.” Then she patted my arm. “And be in heaven every day, besotted with her.”
I had to chuckle. Maddie often commented on my lack of patience and how I preferred things done “my way.” I had assured her it was a trait of being a marquess. She had informed me it was my own personality and nothing to do with my standing.
I hated to admit that she was correct.
Andrew doted on Charlotte—we all did. And she was a loving child. Clever like her brother, and already walking, she was going to be the handful Maddie feared.
And I adored her.
Maddie shaded her eyes, seeing me approach. I pulled Knight to a stop close to them and dismounted, laughing as Andrew ran toward me, his arms outstretched.
“Papa! Papa!”
I bent and caught him, tossing him above my head, my heart warm as his laughter filled the air. I set him down, after accepting his wet kisses on my face. I would never deny my child affection, no matter what.
I knelt to scoop up Charlotte, kissing her plump cheek as she prattled on in her baby voice.
Not quite two, she was already a beauty.
She accepted my kisses then squirmed away, needing to be close to her brother.
I set her down, swatting her little bum gently as she crawled away, too impatient to try to walk.
I held out my hand for Maddie, drawing her close. “Hello, my wife. I have missed you.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You have been gone but two hours, my love. Hardly enough time to miss me.”
“Ah, but there you are wrong, my love. I miss you every second you are not next to me.”
I rested my hand on the swell of her stomach. “Are you well?”
She covered my hand with hers. “Very. Your child has been moving quite a bit all morning. I believe they are anxious to join us.”
I laughed, bending and pressing a kiss to the linen covering her stomach. “Give your mama a moment to breathe, my child. We are anxious to meet you as well.”
“Did you accomplish your errands?” she asked.
“Indeed.”
She peered behind me. “Did Mr. Hughes have any of those chocolate conserves your unborn babe has been demanding?”
I chuckled. “Yes. I procured some for you and some barley sugar and lemon drops for the children.”
“Oh, they will love such a treat!”
“I thought perhaps a picnic tomorrow. It promises to be a fine day. Edward and Lydia could join us.”
Maddie smiled. “How lovely.”
I leaned close, my lips to her ear. “We cannot partake of the joys we used to seek on our picnics, Maddie. Our clothing must remain on, and you must be on your best behavior.”
She scoffed, swatting my shoulder. “I believe you have that wrong, sir. Your old age is showing. You are, and always have been, the impertinent one.”
I chuckled and kissed her neck at the juncture, smiling as she shivered.
“Old age, madam? I shall have to endeavor to change your mind of that notion later.” I caressed her large belly. “I do not believe old age has yet rendered me un-impertinent.” I bit down lightly. “Or unable to bring to you an earth-shattering cli—”
She covered my mouth. “Alexander,” she admonished. “We are not in private!”
I kissed her fingers, grinning at the way her eyes had darkened. She was still responsive and always passionate, and I love to tease her and claim her at the most unexpected moments.
“We could be,” I murmured.
She shook her head and gathered her skirts. “Children, I believe Cook has a treat waiting. Come with me.”