Epilogue

ONE YEAR LATER, DECEMBER 25, 1815, EMERALD FALLS, ENGLAND

J ames pushed away the curtains, tying them to the canopy poles as he leaned over the cradle holding the small delicate form of his son, Erasmus Bailey. The gentle rise and fall of his tiny chest relieved every worry James had each time he looked in upon the quiet child. His peaceful countenance and wisps of ash-brown hair resembled Eleanor in every way, which made James love his child even more.

“You will wake him,” Eleanor whispered, the warning showing in her weary eyes enhanced by the shadows from a single candle in a drip tray.

“Not if I am very careful.” His words came out like a plea, asking for a little more time with their child before they had to leave for the first Christmastide ball of the season.

Eleanor crossed the room, placing the candle on the table. She sidled up next to James, resting her head against his shoulder. “I do not wish to leave him. Not so soon.”

James wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “No one would begrudge us an evening with our child, especially if they knew how tender and sweet he is.”

She wrapped her arms around him, fitting perfectly in his embrace as they both admired their son. “He is your spitting image, James.”

James chuckled. “I disagree. He looks like his mother.”

“Not so,” Eleanor said, pointing to his sweetly upturned nose. “Do you see how his nose angles upward? That is a Bailey trait.”

“Hmm…” James said as he examined the nose a little closer. “I think it makes him look angelic.” James kissed the top of her head. “The wisps of hair around his face are reminiscent of you, my love.”

Eleanor groaned as she tilted her head to look at him. “Every baby has wisps of hair, James. You cannot claim that is a Dove trait.”

James leaned toward her, lightly touching her lips with a tender kiss. “I did not say it was a Dove trait. I said it was an Eleanor trait.” He lifted his finger and played with the tiny hairs on her forehead to prove he was right in his thinking.

He stood in hushed reverence, watching their son sleep, savoring every soft squeak and tiny movement. As James held his wife, wishing the moment would never end, he knew they would have to leave the nursery before long so their little Erasmus could continue to dream unbothered by the admiration of his parents.

“Have you read your Christmas letters yet?” Eleanor asked.

James smiled as he thought about his friends. He wouldn’t see them this year, not unless he and Eleanor ventured south for the holiday. It seemed as they grew older and took on more responsibility, there wasn’t time for gatherings. At least not at this point in life. “Dan is in Cumbria for the season. A house party.”

“Oh?” Eleanor asked. “Might we expect happy news on his behalf?”

James chuckled. “Dan? Goodness, no. It will take a woman abducting his good senses to convince him to not only fall in love but offer marriage.”

“What of Mr. Deane and Mr. Cratchit?”

“Both are quite well and content at the moment.” James kissed her forehead. “Do not get any ideas on playing matchmaker with my friends, dearest. If they choose to find love, it will have to be their own doing.”

“Very well. I will refrain from my machinations. Although, it is only because I am so wholeheartedly devoted to you and our son that I haven’t any time to find them each a wife.”

A wave of gratitude rushed over him as he considered all he had been blessed with over the past year. The trials of the previous Christmastide had tested his faith in ways he scarcely could have imagined, yet in this quiet moment, he could see that despite the overwhelming darkness that had crippled his faith, light and hope had triumphed.

He thought of his friends, silently wishing them the best not only for the festive season but for the upcoming year. He knew no matter what life threw at him, he had his friends and Eleanor to lean upon.

The trials that had been so overwhelming and devastating had revealed to him that with the right people as a support, even a life marred by hardship could be redeemed by the joy of living fully, giving generously, and loving deeply.