Epilogue
One Year Later
When she had first told him she was with child, he had been scared – but she had been so excited, and he had managed to bury his feelings for the entirety of the pregnancy, accepting as best he could his mother’s words that plenty of women had children and did not all suffer Laura’s terrible fate.
But when she went into labour, the fear took hold like never before.
How could he go through this again?
As she screamed and shouted in their bedchamber above, attended by a doctor – at Ezra’s insistence – as well as a local midwife, Ezra paced in his study, unable to sit still, unable to imagine anything but the worst possible outcome.
He shouldn’t have married her. He should have stayed away from her and let her live her life safely, away from him. For if anything happened to her, it was surely his fault, and he did not think he could ever forgive himself – let alone get over it.
He poured himself a glass of whisky with a shaking hand, but couldn’t bring himself to drink it.
His stomach churned, and he felt as though he might cast up the contents of it at any moment.
She was the one in pain, she was the one doing the hard work, but down below the fear raged through him until he could not breathe.
◆◆◆
Constance knew that Ezra was afraid. She’d known he was from the moment she told him about the child. She’d expected it – why wouldn’t he be? And yet he had rallied remarkably well, almost seeming excited at some points, as she grew bigger and less able to continue with her usual countess’s duties.
He took care of her, spent his time with her so she was not lonely or bored, and brought her anything she desired.
But when the pains had begun, and she had sent for the doctor, she had seen that fear return.
And now, although her labour was more painful than anything she had experienced before, she found it was him she was worried about.
She didn’t think anything was going to happen to her.
She felt confident in the doctor and the midwife, and her own body had never failed her.
But she hated the fact that he was terrified downstairs, and that she could not do anything to comfort him.
"Ezra…" she said between pains. "He’ll be so worried, he’ll—"
"You shouldn’t be worrying about him right now," her sister Charity – who had come up to be with her for the birth – said, mopping her brow with a wet cloth. "You just need to focus on yourself and this baby. He’ll be fine, I’m sure."
"But you know—" Constance began, but her words were cut off by another tightening, quicker and sharper than the others.
"I do know. But he wouldn’t thank you for wasting your energy on him right now, I can tell you that. You need to focus. And then, when there’s a beautiful little baby for him to meet, you can think about him again."
"She’s right, my lady," the midwife said, as she brought over a basin of hot water. "This is women’s work – and important work too – and you want to save your energy to bring this babe safely into the world. You can worry about His Lordship as much as you want once the baby’s here."
And so Constance gritted her teeth and pushed when she was told to, and tried to push Ezra from her mind.
◆◆◆
The knock on the door made Ezra jump, concerned that it was news – and of course he expected bad news – from upstairs.
But when it opened, it was Soames, accompanied by his mother.
"I thought you might need some company," she said, dismissing Soames with a nod.
"How did you know?" he asked, and his mother smiled.
"I would say a mother always knows, but my maternal instinct doesn’t quite tell me when your wife is in labour. Soames sent a note."
"I should have done that," Ezra whispered.
"Your mind is not on such things, of course it isn’t. Come, you can pour me a glass of port, and we will wait it out together."
He nodded, but as he poured the ruby liquid, his hand visibly shook.
"What if she doesn’t survive?" he said, his voice trembling too. "What if it happens again?"
"Your wife is healthy and strong, and doing what her body was designed for. She and your child will come through this. But while we wait, we can pray – and look forward to toasting the arrival of your son or daughter."
◆◆◆
"The Countess is tiring," the doctor said to Charity, and Constance wanted to shout that of course she was tiring – it was called labour for a reason – but she did not have the energy to do so.
The next thing she knew, her sister was by her side, gripping her hand and speaking to her in that way only she could.
"You can do this, Constance. You have always been able to do anything you set your mind to, and you will bring this child safely into the world – I know it. But they need you to give it everything you’ve got now, and then you can rest. Understand?"
She didn’t have the energy to form words, but she did nod, and when the doctor told her to push on the next pain, she did as he said – putting every ounce of energy she could possibly summon into bringing this baby, hers and Ezra’s child, born of so much love, into the world.
"Congratulations!" she heard – at the same time as that most beautiful sound of all: the cry from her baby’s lungs.
◆◆◆
He heard the cry and jumped to his feet, his eyes wide. Before his hand could turn the doorknob, his mother stopped him.
"They’ll come for you, my dear. Let them do their work – do not interrupt. I am thrilled to hear such a lusty cry, and I know you cannot wait to see the babe."
"And Constance…" Ezra said, for as much as he wanted a child, and knew that a child was imperative for his line to continue, nothing was as important as Constance surviving this. Nothing at all.
"I cannot… I cannot just wait," Ezra said in desperation.
"It will not be long. They know you are impatient – of course you are. Just let them come."
And then there was a knock on the door, and Ezra flung it open to find a shocked-looking Soames on the other side, who had clearly not expected such a welcome.
"The doctor asks that you go to the Countess’s chamber, my lord," Soames said, bowing his head.
"Is Constance well?"
"All is well, my lord," Soames said, a rare smile lighting his normally serious face. "Lady Gracewood and your son are both very well indeed."
Ezra’s heart felt like it might explode as he walked into the room and was greeted by an exhausted but smiling Constance. In her arms, she held a bundle of joy – but at first, he could only focus on her: the healthy rosiness in her cheeks, the simple, overwhelming fact that she had made it through.
He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips – muttering a prayer and holding her tightly to him.
"You are well?" he asked, when he could finally speak.
She smiled up at him. "I am well. Tired, in no hurry to do that again – but well."
He gave a rough laugh. "I’m not sure I can ever live through that again, either."
His beautiful wife looked up at him, a smile on her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and said, "Meet our son, Ezra."
A son. He had given up hoping to ever have one, and here he was – wrapped up, safe and warm in his mother’s arms, his son. And they were both, the doctor reassured him, perfectly healthy.
"Hello, little one," he whispered, and as Constance handed him the bundle, he carefully held him in his arms, feeling quite overwhelmed with emotion.
He had spent her pregnancy, and indeed today, worrying about Constance – but he had not given much thought to the baby at the heart of it all.
And yet now, with his son in his arms, he was hit with a rush of love so strong it almost left him breathless.
"I love you," he murmured to the baby, and then he kissed Constance’s forehead once more, and whispered the same words to her.
His fear had not gone away, but rather it had morphed into something else – something which he thought would be with him always.
A love that was so strong – for both of them – that he thought he would always worry, that he would spend his life making sure they were well and cared for, and had everything they could possibly want or need.
It wasn’t fear so much as concern; and with the strength of love he felt, it seemed a worthwhile trade.
◆◆◆
Constance slept, and when she woke, it was to find Ezra sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, the babe in his arms, sunlight streaming through the window and bathing them both in a warm glow.
"Is he well?" were the first words out of her mouth, and Ezra looked up, smiled, and nodded.
"Perfectly. He has slept while you have slept."
"It feels strange that he has been a part of me for so long, and now he is an independent being, and I must check on his whereabouts, rather than knowing instantly."
"Well, he needn’t be far from you – not if you don’t want him to be."
"I don’t want either of you to be far away," she said with a smile.
"And we shan’t be. We’re a family. You have given me a family, when I didn’t think I was destined to have one. All I want to do is take care of you both, and live up to both of your expectations."
Constance smiled over at him, feeling as though her heart might burst with love and joy.
"And I know that you will."
"How can you be so sure?" Ezra asked, glancing down at their sleeping son, who was yet to be named. "I failed Laura. I failed the baby. I’ve not been a very good earl for the last five years – or a good son, for that matter. I worry I won’t be good enough."
If she could have got out of bed, she would have done so, but she had to be content with hoping he could hear the sincerity in her voice from across the room.
"I know because I love you, and because you would never let us down.
You have to let go of the past, Ezra. You were not to blame – you know that.
Terrible things happen in this world, but you cannot be held accountable for every one of them.
I know you will do everything in your power for me, for our son, for any more children that we may have.
And that has to be enough for you, too."
After a moment he nodded, and stood with the babe, his eyes glassy.
"You’re right, of course. You do know how much I love you, don’t you? How I could not live without you, how my heart is yours, now and forever?"
The baby began to mew quietly, clearly hungry, and he sat on the bed and passed him to Constance, taking the opportunity to press a kiss to her hair as they exchanged the babe.
"You know, I think I do," Constance said, once the babe had fed and fallen asleep in her arms once more.
"You do what?" Ezra asked, clearly having lost the thread of the conversation in the intervening time.
Constance chuckled. "You look exhausted. You must get some sleep."
"I will, once you tell me what you were saying."
"That I think, to my surprise, that I do believe you love me that much. I didn’t think anyone could love me that much. But now…" She took his hand and basked in the warmth of the love of her husband and her son.
"Now you believe me?"
"Yes, I think I do," she said in a whisper.
"Finally." Ezra said nothing more, but pressed a kiss to her lips before lying down beside her and falling almost immediately into a deep sleep.
Constance laughed quietly to herself and made herself comfortable against the pillows, not wanting to put the baby down. The strength of the love in her heart shocked her daily – and today, when her heart seemed to have doubled in size, she could not believe she was capable of so much.
She had thought she would always be the ugly duckling, never destined to be the beautiful shining star that her sister was. And yet, somehow, she was a countess, living in her own castle – a fairy tale come true.
But most importantly of all, she had the love of a wonderful man, and that love had borne a son, and she rather imagined there would be many more to come.
Because she had so much love in her heart to share.
◆◆◆
Thank you so much for choosing 'The Earl of Gracewood Castle'.