Epilogue
TWO WEEKS LATER
“You are fit as a fiddle, Your Grace,” Doctor Hought pronounced. “Young Master Adam is well, too.”
Madeline let out a sigh of relief. It was Tristan who had insisted that the doctor look over both Madeline and Adam, and she was glad it was over. Adam was fully recovered from his fever and croup and was, in fact, getting more and more energetic with every passing day.
“I had wondered if I might be… if I might be with child,” Madeline confessed, twisting her fingers together. “I know it is too soon to tell, but I had hopes. Then my courses came only yesterday, so I suppose I am not.”
“That is a fairly good sign that you are not,” the doctor chuckled, closing up his surgeon’s bag with a snap. “But you are a healthy young woman, and the duke is a fine, strong man. If children are what you would like, then I am sure you will have them in time.”
“And the childbirth—should I fear it?”
Doctor Hought took a moment to respond.
“Childbirth is a dangerous thing,” he said at last. “But I—and the famous Mrs. Stibbons, too—deliver countless healthy babies to healthy women every year. As far as I can tell, Your Grace, your examination shows that you are a healthy and strong woman. I do not foresee any complications should you become with child.”
Madeline let out a sigh. She felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
“Thank you, doctor. I think perhaps that I do want another baby that could play with Adam, a bigger family.”
The doctor smiled. “Then I wish you the very best of luck, Your Grace. I shall take my leave now and give my regards to His Grace before I leave.”
They were sitting in Madeline’s private parlor, and she led him down the hall to the nursery, where Tristan sat on the floor, playing with Adam.
He exchanged pleasantries with the doctor, who quickly took his leave. That left just the three of them.
“All well?” he inquired, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her roughly against him.
Madeline chuckled, lifting her arms to drape around his shoulders.
“All well. Adam is entirely recovered and growing well for his age, and I am a strong and healthy woman, likely to bear at least twenty babies.”
He winced. “Not twenty. Eighteen, perhaps.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know I am joking about that, don’t you?”
“Of course,” he responded with a grin, and leaned down to kiss her.
The world melted away, narrowing to Tristan and Madeline, his body firm against hers, and her arms tight around his shoulders.
Heat surged in her chest, and she tightened her grip, wanting his weight against her once more.
If they had already decided to have a baby, then surely the more attempts, the better… ?
Tristan gave a muffled exclamation of surprise, pulling back from her.
“My trousers,” he mumbled, and glanced down. His eyes widened.
Adam had shuffled over from where he had been playing and was now up on his knees, clutching at Tristan’s trousers as he tried to lever himself up.
Madeline exclaimed with delight. “Oh, Tristan, Tristan, he is almost crawling! And look at how he pulls himself up! He’s so strong!”
“He will be walking in no time,” Tristan predicted, reaching down and taking Adam’s fat little hands.
Gently, he pulled the wobbly baby onto his feet.
Of course, if he were to let go, Adam would fall straight onto his bottom, but already he was struggling to stay upright unaided, his round face a mask of concentration.
Madeline kneeled, holding out her arms to him, and Adam’s face creased into a gummy smile. She swept him into her arms, holding him tight against her.
“What a beautiful baby you are,” she whispered. “You’ll be a beautiful child, too, and a wonderful adult. Oh, your parents would have been fairly bursting with pride.”
“They would,” Tristan agreed, kneeling beside her and kissing him on his soft little head. “But in their absence, you and I will have to burst with pride over him, Madeline.”
She chuckled, leaning against Tristan. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him, and together they cradled Adam between them.
“This little fellow taught me how vital family is,” Tristan murmured, tapping his nose. “And of course, you, wife.”
“Well, as for me, I was a wallflower before I met you, people say,” Madeline countered, smiling up at him. “I suspect that the three of us have all changed each other very neatly.”
“No doubt,” he responded, looking down at her with a warm, soft look in his eyes. “Now, I suspect that dinner will be ready soon. Shall we go downstairs and meet my mother and your father?”
“Yes, in a minute,” Madeline answered, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Just a little while more, just the three of us. I love you, Tristan. I love you more than I could have imagined.”
He kissed her deeply, then rested his cheek against the top of her head.
“I love you too, Madeline. I will spend the rest of my life reassuring you of that fact.”
“I need no reassurance,” she answered softly. “Because I trust you, too.”
The End?