Epilogue
Summerwind House
Eighteen Months Later
“Look at that!” Kitty exclaimed, pointing to the middle of the drawing room where little Henry, all blue eyes and dimples, had pulled himself up using the leg of a chair and was now balancing precariously on two chubby legs. “He’s standing!”
“Come here, Henry,” coaxed Jack, crouching down on the floor and pulling a small, shiny object out of her trouser pocket which she dangled in front of the baby as if it were a carrot in front of a rabbit. “Come on, ye can do it, just a few steps for your favorite cousin.”
Kitty’s eyes narrowed. “Is that my new bracelet?”
Jack gave a noncommittal shrug. “Dunno. Just found it.”
“Did you find it on my dresser inside my jewelry box?”
“Maybe.”
“Jack!”
“What?” she said defensively. “Look, he loves it.”
It appeared Henry did. With a satisfied gurgle of unintelligible sound, he pushed away from the chair and began to walk toward the bracelet in a swaying, unsteady gait.
From a nearby sofa where Mara was holding an infant swaddled in a pink blanket, she cheered her son on.
Another gurgle followed by a high-pitched squeal of delight, and Henry dropped to all fours before he snatched the bracelet out of Jack’s hand and promptly stuffed half of it in his mouth.
“Well done!” Jack declared. “Next step is picking a window lock, and then there’ll be no stopping ye.”
“Babies should not eat jewelry. It is a choking risk.” Abigail frowned as she retrieved the bracelet and returned it to Kitty covered in drool. A frown that changed instantly into a smile when she glanced across the room at Mara. “Did she fall asleep?”
“Yes,” the duchess sighed happily, kissing the top of the baby’s fuzzy head. “Oh, I already miss these days. They have a certain smell to them, don’t they?”
“Disgusting,” Kitty and Jack said in unison.
“They do,” Abigail agreed.
“Here,” said Mara, holding the baby out. “You’d best take her before she wakes up. I’m sure when her eyes open, she’ll want to see her mama.”
As she took her daughter into her arms, Abigail could still hardly believe how small she was. Or that she and Stephen had created her. Far earlier than they’d intended, but they were making it work.
After bringing her personal belongings—including the cats, of course—to Stephen’s townhouse, she had moved her doctor’s office upstairs and converted the first story into two large examination rooms and a waiting area big enough to comfortably accommodate her growing list of patients.
She’d also hired a second physician. A young female doctor, much like herself, who had begun her education under a veterinarian and was thrilled to hone and expand her skills with the renowned Dr. Chadwick.
Having a second doctor to attend patients had enabled Abigail to divide her time more equally between her duties in the office and her duties at home. A bit more than equally, as she found she was expecting only a few months later.
She delivered a healthy baby girl just as the summer was beginning to cool. They named her Olivia, after Abigail’s mother. And every night, after Stephen gave her a bath, Abigail read to her from The Elements of Surgery by John Dorsey.
“Do you really think Olivia needs to know the steps to performing a ligation of the external lilac artery?” Stephen asked her later that evening, running a towel through his damp hair as he emerged from behind the bathing screen in their shared master bedchamber.
“It’s the iliac artery,” Abigail corrected, peering at him over the spine of the book. “A lilac is a type of flower. And there is recent evidence to suggest that a child’s brain has the capability to absorb information much more easily than an adult’s.”
“What happened to fairy tales?” He wrapped the towel around his waist. “Witches and princesses. Dragons and unicorns.”
“Name a single witch that became a doctor.”
Stephen raised a brow.
Abigail rolled her eyes. “Very amusing. If you’d like to tell her a fairy tale, be my guest.”
“I will. Come here, my little lady.” Gently lifting their daughter, Stephen supported her head with one hand while he tapped her button nose with the other.
“Once upon a time,” he began with a glance at Abigail, “there lived a handsome prince. This prince had everything he could want. Fortune. Estates. Carriages. But there was one thing he didn’t have. A princess with spectacles.”
Touching her own spectacles, Abigail bit back a smile.
“The prince searched high and low for his princess. He traveled on horseback. He went on great ships. He walked miles and miles. Finally, he found her. And do you know what she said to him after his long, exhausting journey? ‘I am not happy to see you.’”
“When put in the proper context—”
Stephen held up a finger. “Excuse me. This is my fairy tale. As I was saying, the princess was not happy to see the prince. So do you know what he did next?”
“Kidnapped her?” Abigail suggested.
“He graciously invited her to his castle in the sky, and she accepted, but not before she sent the knight on a quest.”
“Quest?” Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t remember any quest—”
“To prove his love, she asked him to go the great city and retrieve three ferocious beasts. It was a dangerous task, fraught with peril.”
“Peril is a bit of an exaggeration—”
“But the knight was smitten, and so he went. There was a raging battle.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake—”
“In the end, the good knight prevailed, and he brought the princess her beasts. Overwhelmed with happiness, she agreed to marry him, and they lived happily ever after.”
“There was a bit more to it than that.” Rising from her chair, Abigail went to Stephen and he passed Olivia back to her, then wrapped his arms around them both and kissed her forehead.
“I included the most important part.”
“What part is that?” she asked, smiling up at him.
“The part where they lived happily ever after.”
THE END