Epilogue
Aunt Julia, Gelato and One Last Surprise
Cilly sat down with a sigh of relief on the stone bench in the little courtyard.
The fountain in the centre splashed merrily, sending a fine mist pattering over the lush greenery surrounding her, all of which added to the sense of having found a quiet retreat.
The hills of Tuscany baked beneath the relentless sun, though the Monteverde family home was removed from the dusty heat of the city itself.
She had loved exploring Florence—the Uffizi, the endless churches and palazzi, the sculptures and the frescoes–but now a sudden longing to go home had seized her, not that she would say so for the world.
Damian was so happy he glowed with it, basking in the delight his Aunt Julia took in spoiling him and his brother, and making up for all the years they had missed.
His cousins had all taken to him, naturally, and the children adored him, chattering at him in rapid Italian.
She had discovered he spoke fluent Italian, and whilst the speed of much of the younger members conversation was challenging, he held his own with the adults.
Her own Italian was less complete, but she was enjoying practising it and the family enjoyed laughing good-naturedly at her mistakes.
Ever since the letter from Julia had arrived, their lives had changed.
They had talked for hours that day, and the next, and the one after.
They had talked long into the night as Damian went over and over all this new information, discussing the possibilities that he longed to grab for, but needed time to come to terms with.
Each night—or the early hours of the morning, they would fall asleep in each other’s arms. Until one morning, oh, that wonderful, perfect morning, when he had made love to her, slowly and reverently, and she had cried because it had been so very perfect, and more than she could ever have dreamed of.
Since then, he had loved her in nearly every room of their lovely home in Fairlight, and they’d very nearly had an excruciatingly embarrassing run in with the builders that swarmed the place like ants.
They had finally accepted one of Julia’s increasingly insistent invitations to visit her, just to escape the chaos.
Hetty and Gideon had arrived the following month, bearing news of progress and getting as swept up as they had in Aunt Julia’s fond embraces, and by the Count of Monteverde’s devastating charm and warmth, and the welcomes of what seemed to be hundreds of cousins.
Not to mention the charm of the large, rambling palazzo itself, with its covering of pink bougainvillea, surrounded by lemon and olive trees.
Children’s footsteps clattered constantly on the well-worn terracotta floors, the halls filled with laughter, dogs barking, shouts of delight and those of pure annoyance, such as only a lively family could produce.
It was a place of love and light and remarkable peace despite the uproar that seemed to happen almost daily.
Despite the furore, the size of the place also provided them with many remarkably convenient places for trysting, and Damian had taken shameless advantage of every one of them, much to Cilly’s glee.
She smiled, remembering a delightful interlude just that morning in a quiet corner of the garden, with the world overhead studded with oranges and lemons, and Damian loving her with a quiet intensity that had taken her spiralling up and up.
Holding on to him tightly, she had been safe in his arms, yet she had felt as free and unbound as the swallows that glided so elegantly in the skies above.
Soft footsteps approached, and Cilly glanced up as Aunt Julia appeared. She looked much like her sister, but far plumper, and with deep laughter lines around her mouth and eyes. Cilly had adored her from the moment they’d met.
“I thought I might find you here. We are all gathering in the parlour for gelato. Damian did not wish you to miss it.”
Cilly smiled. “Oh, I never miss gelato. I can sniff it out from a mile away.”
Julia laughed. “It is a splendid treat, especially in this infernal heat. I imagine you are longing for your lovely home by the sea, especially in your condition.”
Cilly stilled, gazing at her. “I beg your pardon?”
Julia reached out her hand and took Cilly’s, squeezing it gently. “I’ve had my share of babies, my dear, and I’ve helped birth twenty-four grandchildren. I know the signs. I presume you’ve not yet told him?”
Cilly shook her head. “I’ve tried to, oh, half a dozen times, but… but I’m afraid. He is so happy and I know he will worry for me and—”
“And there is no use at all in spoiling men,” Aunt Julia said firmly.
“He’s had a hard run, I’ll grant you, and I take my share of the blame for that, but he’s a grownup now, Celia.
Give him a little credit. He’s not the unsettled, terrified creature he was when you met, and yes, those are my words, not yours, but I’m no fool.
Reading between the lines of what you have both said, and what I have learned from Gideon and Hetty, you saved that man, so don’t ruin it by sheltering him from every wind that blows.
It will do neither of you a whit of good.
You face everything together, good and bad, lovely and ugly. It’s the only way.”
Cilly let out a breath. “You’re right, of course. Thank you. I… I was being cowardly.”
“Don’t be a nitwit. You’ve not a cowardly bone in your body.
You were protecting the man you love, but he does not need protecting from such joyous news.
Share it with the excitement and pleasure that you feel, and don’t worry about anything else.
The future will take care of itself, no matter what you do. ”
“I will,” Cilly promised.
“Will what?”
Both women jumped as Damian appeared in the courtyard. He looked from one to the other of them. “Is this plotting? What are you both looking so guilty about?”
“N-Nothing,” Cilly assured him as Julia got to her feet.
“I’ll leave you to it, my dear. Don’t forget the gelato, it will melt,” Julia called, hurrying away.
Damian watched her go. “What was that about?”
Cilly shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant. “I have no idea.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Celia, you are the worst liar on God’s green earth. What is it?”
Cilly huffed impatiently. “Never mind that, come and sit down. I have something to tell you.”
Obediently, Damian came and sat beside her. He stared at her, worry pinching his eyebrows together. “Something is wrong, what is it?”
Cilly laughed and shook her head. “Nothing is wrong. Far from it. Actually, I… I have the most wonderful news, Damian.”
He gazed at her, and Cilly wondered what he saw. She had noticed subtle little changes herself. Nothing great, not yet, for it was too early, but her complexion seemed brighter, a little pinker, and her body was a touch fuller than before.
“Celia,” he said, a soft rasp to his voice as he reached for her. “Cilly?”
She smiled, finding she could not speak, but not needing words as her eyes filled and she nodded, laughing as emotions chased across his face, too quick to catch. Yet wonder lit his eyes, and a quiet joy that made her heart sing.
He got to his knees before her and kissed one hand, then the other. “We… We are to have a child?”
“Yes.”
He made a choked sound and slid his arms around her waist, his head resting gently on her belly. For a long moment he said nothing, only held her, held them both, and her heart swelled with love for him.
“I will look after you. I will look after you both, I swear it. I will never betray you. I will be the best father I can be, the best husband. I give you my word.”
“You already are the best husband, you ridiculous man,” Cilly said unevenly, stroking his hair. “And as for the rest, well, of course you will. I never doubted it, and our child will never doubt it either.”
He looked up, staring at her in such a way that she felt cocooned by the enormity of everything he felt for her, but it was not overwhelming, it did not suffocate or restrain her.
Damian knew who she was, and precisely how devious and strong-willed she could be, and he still loved her, just as she was.
They were both flawed, both still a little afraid, but together they could survive anything.
Even children. Even the future. No matter what it held for them.
“I love you, my lady, and I hope it is a daughter, the image of her beautiful mama.”
Cilly smiled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “No. A boy first.”
He frowned. “I don’t need a boy yet. I’d like a girl.”
“It’s not up to you, you know,” she pointed out.
“No, nor you either,” he said with a laugh.
“It’s a boy,” she said smugly.
“You cannot possibly know that,” he retorted, sitting back on his heels.
Cilly shrugged and said nothing.
“You cannot possibly—” he began, and then narrowed his eyes. “You can’t.”
“Fine, I can’t.” She threw up her hands. “Oh! Gelato! We must go before it melts.”
Cilly got to her feet as Damian hurried to follow her.
“Celia! Celia, sod the bloody gelato, come back here. How can you be so sure?”
But Cilly only laughed, grinning to herself all the way to the parlour, and she carried on grinning, smiling contentedly with each bite of the enormous bowl of gelato she ate.
Oh, she would enjoy the next seven or so months. She would enjoy them very much indeed.