Epilogue
T hey were married by noon, and by the afternoon the duchess was hosting an impromptu wedding breakfast for the family and staff who joined in on the celebrations.
The large dining room at Ebonmere Abbey was a riot of laughter and chatter, the long table dressed in white linens, fresh blooms spilling from silver vases, and plates heaped with meats, tarts, and sweet cakes.
Evangeline sat beside Ezra at the head of the table, her fingers loosely twined with his. Every so often, he’d look at her, a soft smile playing about his lips—one that made her heart twist and flutter all over again.
“You’re staring at me again,” she said, leaning in with a teasing smile.
“I’m allowed. You’re my wife now.” He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Besides, I’m trying to memorize every freckle and curve so I don’t ever forget just how lucky I am.”
Evangeline flushed and shook her head, laughing. “You’ll have ample time to memorize them, my lord. A lifetime, I believe.”
He nodded solemnly, but his eyes danced. “That still doesn’t feel like enough time.”
They were halfway through the final course when Ezra leaned in closer, his voice low. “Sweetheart?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to alarm you, but…” He hesitated, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “You mentioned in London that you’d started your courses, but you haven’t said anything since. Last night there was no sign…”
She blinked, taken aback. “No…I have not.”
Ezra stilled. “And have they started today?”
She sat up straighter, heart giving a sudden, unexpected flutter. “No… No, they have not.” There was a long pause as they both stared at one another. Her breath caught. “Ezra, I—I thought it had started. I only spotted for a day. I did not think…”
He was on his feet before she could finish, his chair clattering to the floor as he reached for her. “You’re with child?” he whispered, breathless. “We’re having a baby?”
“I—I think so,” she said, stunned joy blooming behind her ribs.
Ezra laughed—deep and unrestrained—before scooping her up in his arms and spinning her about, drawing startled gasps and delighted laughter from her family around them.
“My beautiful wife!” he called out, triumphant. “The new Countess St. George!”
The duchess clapped her hands in delight while her sisters jumped to their feet, rushing toward her. Evangeline clung to her husband, laughing as tears of joy pricked her eyes. “Put me down, you ridiculous man!”
“Never,” he whispered, holding her tight. “You’ve given me everything, Evangeline. I never thought I could feel this happy again. I love you. With everything that I am.”
She cupped his face, brushing her thumbs along the curve of his jaw. “And I love you. For exactly who you are, flaws and all.”
He kissed her, slow and sure, not caring in the least that the whole of the house was watching. Their future stretched out before them—wild and unknown, but full of hope. Of love. And for the first time, neither of them feared it. Together, they had everything.