23. Edward #2
"The notorious Miss Anderton," Lili corrected with a grin, and I felt another surge of pride at her courage.
"Well then," Dr. Harrison said, adjusting the ultrasound equipment, "shall we see what all the fuss is about?"
I moved my chair closer to the examination table so I could hold Lili's hand, both of us staring at the monitor with nervous anticipation.
The screen flickered to life, showing shadows and shapes that meant nothing to my untrained eye.
"There," Dr. Harrison said, pointing to a small, dark area on the screen. "There's your baby."
Lili squeezed my hand so tightly I was certain she'd leave marks. "Really? That little blob is our baby?"
"Indeed it is," Dr. Harrison confirmed, then paused, moving the ultrasound wand slightly. Her expression shifted to one of delighted surprise. "Oh, my. How wonderfully unexpected."
"What?" I asked immediately, my legal instincts detecting something significant in her tone. "Is something wrong?"
"Not wrong at all," she said, her voice taking on a note of barely contained excitement. "Quite the opposite, actually. Look here."
She pointed to another area of the screen, and suddenly I could see it—another small, dark space, another tiny form.
"Twins," Dr. Harrison announced with professional satisfaction. "You're having twins."
The world tilted sideways.
I gripped the edge of my chair, suddenly grateful for its solid weight beneath my hands. Twins. The word seemed to echo in my mind, bouncing off every carefully constructed plan I'd ever made for the future and rendering them all beautifully, terrifyingly obsolete.
"Twins?" I repeated, my voice coming out rough and broken.
"Two babies," Lili whispered, staring at the screen in wonder. "Edward, we're having two babies."
The joy that had filled me at the initial confirmation now exploded into something beyond description.
Two children. Two little souls to love and protect and guide. Two chances to be the Father I'd never had the courage to imagine becoming.
"It's magnificent," I said, my voice gaining strength with each word. "Absolutely magnificent."
Dr. Harrison smiled knowingly as she printed several copies of the ultrasound images. "The babies appear healthy and are developing normally. I'd estimate you're about six weeks along, which would put your due date sometime in early March."
March. Spring babies. New beginnings.
I stood and kissed Lili properly, not caring that Dr. Harrison was watching with benevolent amusement. When we broke apart, we were both crying.
"Two," I murmured against her forehead, still trying to process the magnitude of it.
"Two Grosvenor babies," she agreed, laughing through her tears. "God help us all."
We were back in my penthouse.
I moved around the desk in three quick strides, pulling her into my arms with perhaps more enthusiasm than strictly necessary.
She laughed against my chest, the sound bright and relieved, while I buried my face in her hair and tried to process the magnitude of what the doctor had just told me.
Twins. We were having twins.
"Are you certain?" I asked, pulling back to study her face. "The doctor was absolutely certain?"
"It's real, honey. We're going to be parents. In about seven months, we're going to have two tiny humans depending on us for everything."
The responsibility of it should have terrified me.
Instead, I felt something I could only describe as fierce joy spreading through my chest like wildfire.
"So you're happy?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.
"Happy seems an inadequate word," I said honestly. "I feel as though I've just been handed everything I didn't know I wanted."
She smiled then, brilliant and radiant, and I fell in love with her all over again.
"There's something else," I said, an idea forming with the sort of perfect clarity that usually accompanied my best legal strategies. "Something I've been meaning to discuss with you."
"More surprises?" she asked, but she was still smiling.
"In a manner of speaking." I took her hands in mine, marveling at how small and strong they were. "This merger, this partnership—it's changed everything for me. The way I think about business, about family, about what matters."
"Edward—"
"Let me finish," I said gently. "I've spent my entire life believing that tradition and protocol were paramount.
That certain things were done in certain ways because that's how they'd always been done.
But you've shown me that the best partnerships aren't about dominance or acquisition.
They're about equals choosing to build something together. "
I released her hands and moved to my desk, withdrawing a small velvet box from the top drawer. Her eyes widened as I returned to her, dropping to one knee with the sort of theatrical flourish that would have horrified my younger self.
"Lili Anderton," I said, opening the box to reveal the ring I'd commissioned three days after we'd returned from Texas. "Will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife?"
The ring was perfect—a vintage-inspired design with a central diamond that caught the afternoon light, surrounded by smaller stones arranged like wildflower petals. I could see the delicate engraving on the inner surface that spelled out 'Choose us' in my own handwriting.
Texas wildflowers, to be precise, though I'd never admit to such sentimentality in public.
"Edward," she breathed, her hands flying to her mouth. "It's beautiful."
"Is that a yes?" Suddenly uncertain, I felt my carefully constructed composure wavering. "Because I realize the timing is rather dramatic, what with the pregnancy announcement and the merger, but I've been carrying this ring for nearly two weeks and—"
The words hung between us in the golden afternoon light, and for a heartbeat I was terrified she might say no. That the pregnancy and the merger and everything else might have made this gesture seem calculated rather than heartfelt. But then I saw the tears gathering in her eyes, and I knew.
"Yes." She was laughing through tears I hadn't noticed falling. "Yes, of course yes, you ridiculous man."
I slipped the ring onto her finger with hands that were shamefully unsteady, then rose to kiss her properly. This time, when we broke apart, we were both crying.
"Twins," I murmured against her forehead.
"And a wedding," she added.
"And a partnership that's going to revolutionize how legal and media firms collaborate."
"Don't forget the part where we're madly in love."
"Never," I promised. "That's rather the point of everything else."
We spent several minutes simply holding each other in the golden light, her ring catching the afternoon sun as she traced patterns on my chest.
The magnitude of everything—the babies, the engagement, the business merger, the family reconciliation still to come—should have been overwhelming. Instead, I felt a profound sense of rightness, as if all the scattered pieces of my life had finally aligned.
"We should tell the others," Lili said eventually, though she made no move to step away from my arms.
"In a moment," I replied, reluctant to break the spell. "Let me have you to myself just a little longer."
But eventually, duty called, and we made our way to the manor to share our news with the family we were still learning how to be.
The drawing room at Grosvenor Manor had never felt more perfect than it did that evening, with sunset light filtering through the tall windows and the fire crackling cheerfully in the hearth.
Daphne and James sat together on the settee, her hand resting casually on his knee in a gesture that spoke of hard-won openness. Lili curled beside me in the wingback chair, her left hand prominently displayed so the ring caught the light.
"Well," Daphne said, raising her champagne flute, "I think this calls for a toast."
"Several toasts," James corrected, his smile warm and genuine.
He shook his head in amazement. "You know, most people ease into major life changes.
Marriage, then house, then perhaps one child.
But not Edward Grosvenor. He acquires a fiancée, twins, and a media empire all in the span of a few months.
To the merger, to the engagement, to the babies—"
"Babies?" Daphne practically shrieked, bouncing to her feet. "As in more than one? Edward, you absolute overachiever!"
"Twins," Lili confirmed, grinning at her friend's shocked expression. "Apparently your brother doesn't do anything by halves."
"Efficiency," I said gravely, "has always been a priority."
James burst into laughter. "Good God, Edward. Two babies and a media empire. Are you planning to sleep at all in the next five years?"
"Sleep is overrated," I replied, then caught Lili's amused glance. "Though I may revise that opinion come March."
"March?" Daphne was practically bouncing in her seat. "They're due in March? Oh, this is perfect! Spring babies, and a spring wedding, and everything beginning again..."
Her enthusiasm was infectious, warming something in my chest that had been cold for far too long.
This—my sister's joy, James's friendship, Lili's hand in mine—this was what family was supposed to feel like.
"There's one more thing," Lili said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "We've been talking, and we'd like to ask you both something."
"Anything," Daphne said immediately.
"We want you to be godparents," I said. "Both of you, to both babies. If you're willing."
The silence that followed was profound. James cleared his throat roughly, while Daphne's eyes filled with tears.
"You're certain?" James asked. "Given everything that's happened, all the complications..."
"Especially because of everything that's happened," I corrected. "You've both stood by us when it would have been easier to walk away. You've shown us what loyalty and friendship truly mean."
"Besides," Lili added with a grin, "somebody's going to need to help keep these babies from growing up too stuffy and British."