Epilogue
CHRISTMAS EVE, TWO YEARS LATER
“Who invited my mother and father to join us for Christmas?” Lillian grumbled at Alaric good-naturedly as they watched her parents quibbling over which of them had gifted their daughter the best present and who should be able to hold her longer.
Presently, her father had her in his arms.
The drawing room had been filled with even more decorations than the previous two years combined, much to the delight of Mrs. Greaves.
Lillian’s mother and father had traveled across the Atlantic to spend the festive season with them, which, of course, meant that her mother had insisted upon helping with everything from the menus, to the color of the ribbons threaded through the tree, to the carols being sung.
She had also had all of her favorite ornaments crated up and shipped along with them.
The Christmas tree could barely be seen.
“I do think that you are the one who invited them, my love,” Alaric told her, placing a hand on the small of her back.
“Remind me never to do so again,” she returned grimly, even as she leaned into his comforting presence at her side.
Almost three years ago, she had become engaged to a stranger. A handsome, proper English duke she hadn’t wanted to marry.
Except an odd thing had happened their first Christmas together.
Somewhere between the candles, the mistletoe, and the plum pudding, they had finally lowered their mutual guards and confessed their love for each other. And now, they were happier than ever, along with their baby daughter, whom they had named after Alaric’s mother, Victoria Jane.
“They seem happy enough,” Alaric said, slanting a tender look in her direction. “Let them argue a bit longer and see if they come to blows before you endeavor to interrupt.”
She laughed at his lighthearted teasing. “Who do you think will win their argument?”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a worshipful kiss. “If they are anything like the two of us, then your father will know better than to try to best her, for she is his superior in every way.”
Lillian laughed again. “If I didn’t know any better, Your Grace, I would think you are charming me in an attempt to get beneath my skirts.”
“Don’t say that too loudly,” he warned with a roguish grin. “I would dearly hate to die of mortification just before Christmas Day, should either of your parents overhear.” He paused, his smile deepening. “But was I successful?”
“I think you know you are always successful in that particular regard,” she responded, her heart overflowing with love and contentment.
He winked. “I’m happy to hear it, wife. Merry Christmas, darling Lillian. I love you.”
“I love you more,” she told him. “Merry Christmas.”
Across the drawing room, her mother appeared to win the argument, and her father relinquished baby Victoria to her waiting arms.
All was right in their little world.
Thank you so very much for reading The Duke Under the Mistletoe!
I hope you enjoyed this heartwarming tale of a marriage of convenience gone right at the holiday season.