Epilogue

EPILOGUE

E verdene Hall, all decked out for Christmas, devolved into utter chaos. From the moment Grace's younger brothers rushed in like a hurricane, the air seemed to sizzle with excitement. The three lads nearly bowled their sister over in their enthusiasm, all talking at once. Lucien couldn't understand a word they said—and God knew, he couldn't get anywhere near his wife—but he saw the dull metal figure in her hand as she returned Lord Admiral Nelson to little Bennet. Saw Avery and Ethan puff up with pride as Grace marveled at how they had grown.

Tears sparkled on her lovely cheeks, her face positively aglow. God, she was so beautiful, Lucien marveled, his throat uncomfortably tight.

She looked at him over the children's heads. "Thank you," she mouthed.

He put his hand to his chest, then held it out to her…Moments later, Arkwright—damn him—pushed his way to the center of the cluster of children and placed the last thing this evening needed into Bennet Elliot's arms: A wriggling, face-licking spaniel puppy, doubtless bent on destruction. "This is for Grace," Arkwright told him, with a devilish look in Lucien's direction. "But we'll need you to help take care of the wee fellow whenever you're here."

Lucien started forward, intending to have a sharp word with his friend. Maybe send the animal out to the stable for the duration of the party along with Arkwright's boots to chew for good measure. But Bennet's joy seemed to be bubbling over, filling the manor house that had been grim and empty for so many years.

Lucien looked around, taking it all in. Tables were laden with gifts for the family servants and those who worked on the estate. Lengths of cloth for dresses, shirts and breeches, papers of hair pins, pots and tools waited for adults to claim them. For the children: dolls in pretty dresses, clockwork toys, more tin soldiers and the like. Mountains of bright oranges waited to be peeled, releasing their tart scent to mingle with the gingernuts' spicy fragrance and the taste of boiled sweets.

Leaving Grace to enjoy the reunion, Lucien mingled with the other guests, his gaze tracing back to her again and again as the night progressed. She took his breath away, with her kindness, her warmth as she began distributing the largess to the children with the help of Jane, and Pen.

His mother came to stand beside him. "It is lovely, isn't it? All of us together."

"Yes. Yes it is."

"It's something I feared I would never see."

He smiled down at her. "This has been a year of surprises for all of us."

"Mr. Arkwright tells me that you intend to stand in parliament and speak for the factory workers. Is it true?"

"Yes," he said.

"Your father will be furious beyond imagining if you do this thing. But you will triumph in the end."

"I hope so."

"I am sure of it. You were always so strong. I fear that gift cost you more than you'll ever know." She looked so sad it made Lucien's chest ache.

"I don't understand."

Guilt flooded his mother's eyes. "I knew you would survive no matter what challenges you faced and your father would never release his hold on you. So I let you deal with his tempers, his ruthless schemes when I could not. I threw all my effort into protecting the others, trying to save who I could from your father's machinations."

He heard the echo of his own words to Grace in that square where they'd first met Sibby Rose and Scrap. You cannot save them all…

"You blame yourself for what happened to me and to your sisters," his mother said, "but I am the one who was fault. I was supposed to protect you . I should have found a way…"

Her words curled around his heart. Suddenly fresh memories flooded him. Standing a little ways apart, always, watching the others cluster around their mother, laughing and frolicking and free. Knowing, somehow, he was not. It hurt, to hear the truth put into words. And yet he understood.

"I was the one most able to fight back," he said. "I had the best chance."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and Lucien felt his own eyes burn.

"You think I am tentative around you because of what you did so long ago. That's not the reason. Every time I looked into your eyes, I could see the cost of what I had done…How isolated you have been. When I see you, I know that I am the one who failed you, my dear, brave son. I am so sorry."

Had he been waiting his whole life to hear those words? From the moment he'd been a boy, looking over his shoulder as his father pulled him away from the others? "I would not change what happened, except…I thought…there was something about me, something that made me hard…no, impossible to love."

"You cannot believe that any longer. Not when you look into your wife's eyes. And I pray, my darling boy, that you know your place in my heart as well."

"Perhaps we could make a fresh start," Lucien said. "Grace says that is what you must do when you make mistakes. Forgive yourself and begin again."

"Yes. Just so. And when your own child comes, I know you will protect that babe as I was not able to protect you. I know you will love with every fiber of your heart. As I love you."

"I will."

"I only hope someday all my children will heal."

He followed her gaze across the room to where Cassandra stood in a corner with Jamie MacLeod, arguing over God knew what. The Scotsman face's was contorted with anger, his eyes blazing. Cassandra glared back, defiant. Something was flaring between the two. Lucien had noticed it since the night of the charity event in London. God knew, he felt for them both, remembering his own tumultuous passage a few weeks past. He was about to go over and see what was amiss when Cassandra spun away and stormed out. MacLeod slammed his fist into the wall but did not go after her. Before Lucien could do so, Lord Elliot approached.

"May I have a moment?" the older man asked, his face furrowed with concern.

Lucien bit back a groan. He'd not forgiven Grace's father or stepmother for their treatment of her. "Of course."

"Grace told me what happened the night of her charity event," Lord Elliot said, his glasses askew. "You saved the lives of everyone at Raven's Court, then chose to bring the family of the man who intended to kill you to Everdene."

"Yes. And I hired a barrister to take Nolan's case."

"You may very well destroy your political career, championing such people. Your father?—"

"I am not my father. I have no intention of shaping my policy to satisfy him."

"I know that now. When you came to court my daughter, I feared the Harcourt ruthlessness." Elliot looked across the room at his daughter, tenderness suffusing his face. "But anyone with eyes can see how happy Grace is now. I regret…"

Elliot's words trailed off. Much as Lucien wanted to blame the man for driving Grace to such desperate measures, she would not be his wife tonight had her father not tried to force her hand elsewhere.

"We both have regrets," Lucien said, "but whatever happened in the past led us here." Lucien offered the old man his hand.

Elliot shook it just as his wife called him over. "You must come see this darling puppy, Vernon," Helen said, her red plaid gown pooling about her as she sat on the ground next to Bennet and the squirming dog. "Be gentle. He's very tiny."

"Can't we take him home?" Bennett begged.

Arkwright stood over them, looking at Lucien. "This one is Grace's. But I have it on good authority there's another just like him, waiting for someone to take care of him."

Bennett looked at Helen, his eyes going wide. "Could we…?"

"I'm afraid puppies and toads do not mix. A pup is likely to eat it."

"I promise no more toads in the house!" The other two boys looked at her, both nodding.

Helen glanced at her husband, her brows raised, waiting for his input.

"Let's hope the dog is better received than the toad," he muttered under his breath. Then, much louder, said, "Why not! It's Christmas."

The boys cheered. Elliot turned back to Lucien, a look of concern in his eye. "I applaud you for the stand you're taking," he said. "Just…have a care. Freyne and Pinchbeck are not alone in their willingness to do anything to maintain the gentry's hold on power. And your father is a most formidable enemy."

As if Lucien didn't know it. He would be even more vigilant now. But that was for later. Tonight, he wanted to revel in this first Christmas with Grace.

Lucien strolled toward her as she stood near the Nolan children, the sight of them with their new toys cheering him. Sibby and Scrap gathered round Bennet and the puppy, while Robert Nolan took lessons in swordsmanship from Avery and Ethan. Lucien wondered at the wisdom of arming the boys in a crowd.

Yet he couldn't help but feel pleased at the transformation in the Nolan children. Two weeks at Everdene had worked miracles. They were turned out in new clothes, their cheeks pinkened from time running about in the wintery country air. Moira hung back with the village wives who had taken her under their wing. But even as Jane and his mother distributed yard goods and pretty combs to the women, she still wore that sorrowful, tired expression. Lucien didn't dare tell Moira yet, but the discussions regarding Darragh Nolan's case were taking encouraging turns as he uncovered threats Freyne had made and called in favors from the most powerful men in the kingdom.

He smiled as he heard Sibby Rose pipe up.

"We got a house for Christmas," she told Bennet as she stroked the spaniel's silky ears. "You should see it! Me an' Scrap sneaked outside at night an' you never saw so many stars in the sky!"

"My mama is a star," Bennet said softly.

Lucien remembered how Grace had comforted her grieving brothers, pointing up to the heavens.

He felt a pang, thinking of his own sister. Cassandra had not returned after her quarrel with MacLeod. Men now surrounding the stablemaster were enthusing about the Harcourt horses, but for the first time in Lucien's memory, the Scotsman didn't seem to give a damn about the equine bloodline he and Simon had fought so hard to create. If anything, MacLeod looked grimmer than Lucien had ever seen him, the Scotsman glaring again and again at the door through which Cassandra had disappeared.

Lucien understood his sister's reasons for leaving all too well. He'd fled from this kind of family celebration himself until Grace had come into his life.

He stepped up behind her, the blue silk of her skirts brushing against him as he whispered near her ear, "Might I steal my wife away from her adoring throng for just a moment?" He could feel the shiver of awareness that went through her as his breath warmed her neck.

"Always…" She turned back toward him, her face lighting up. "And for much longer than a moment!"

Tonight, he had a special gift to deliver to the woman who had made this day possible. He drew her beneath a kissing ball streaming with ribbons, and she turned her face to him. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but his gaze caught on a white bit of fluff from her hair. "Is this supposed to mimic snowfall?" he asked, plucking it off, then showing her.

"Oh, no!" She laughed. "The puppy stole a toy horse from the present table, and I fear the wee rogue was flinging the stuffing in the air."

"Of course, you came to the rescue."

"And mended the tear without anyone being the wiser," she said with a mischievous grin. "Please tell me that's the only stowaway!" She bent her head down for him to examine the glossy brown locks in their sweet chignon.

"You could be covered in it and you'd still be beautiful, you know. Disheveled suits you," he said.

She looked up at him, smiling. "It seems to me that you're stalling. What did you want to steal me away for?"

"I have a gift for you."

"This is gift enough." She waved her hand around the room filled with family and laughter and love. "Everyone I love, here. Especially you."

"Give me your hand," he commanded.

She held them both out with delighted anticipation. He caught her left hand in his then tugged off the betrothal ring.

"Lucien!" she cried in protest as he thrust the ring in his pocket. "Whatever are you doing?"

"I was a pompous arse when I selected that," he said. "I wanted you to wear something imposing. Something that screamed the Harcourt name, told every man in England that you were mine." He stared down at her finger, gliding his thumb over the slender gold band that remained. His voice softened. "I know better now."

He drew a small jeweler's box from the pocket of his coat, then opened it.

Grace stared at the ring pillowed on black velvet, and he loved the gasp that came from her pink lips as she took in the simple pearl glowing soft in the light, a sapphire on each side.

He slipped the ring from its case, then slid it onto her fourth finger. "I had this made just for you," he said.

"It's exquisite." Her face shone with such happiness his heart squeezed. "Like a little moon with stars on each side."

"Exactly what I thought when I described it to the jeweler."

"And here I thought it might be something about grit turning to pearl after being hauled from a lake." Her eyes sparkled as bright as the cut stones. He kissed her knuckles. "I suppose grit turning to pearl is…a fair description of our love. Even then you had begun to chip away the hard shell I wore," he said. Somehow, he realized, Grace had created a love so beautiful, so surprising…that it scarce seemed real. He turned her face up to his, not caring that half the people in the ballroom were staring at them. "The sapphires I chose have meaning as well," he said. "One is for you, my bright star. One for our babe."

"A babe!" The nearby jolting squeal came from Helen Elliot. Puppy forgotten, she jumped up, clasping her hands in delight.

Lord Elliot stood beside her, his voice was rough with emotion as he looked at his daughter. "Oh, my dearest…"

Lucien slid his arm about his wife's waist, and turned to the assembled guests. "It's true," he announced, his voice carrying across the room. "Come May, I will be a father."

Applause broke out, and soon they were crowded by well-wishers. Lucien accepted congratulations, his chest swelling with pride and happiness until suddenly he was aware of the three Bennet boys and the Nolan children pointing and whispering and eyeing him askance.

"You heard our news?" Lucien asked, his arm still about his wife.

"Aye." Robert Nolan's eyebrows arched to his hairline. "But ye a da? Gor'! Scrap likes ye well enough, but ye don't seem very good at babies an' such."

Bennet, puppy in his arms, leaned toward Sibby Rose, with a solemn nod. "Scared my brother so bad Avery bit him once."

"Wasn't scared!" Avery protested.

"Well I was!" Lucien said. "I thought I'd found an alligator under my bed." The two glared at each other in mock outrage. When Avery's mouth stretched into a grin, Lucien laughed. His sides ached with it, joy he'd lost for decades spilling forth…joy he could barely remember feeling before Grace. For a moment, the children gaped at him, then they dissolved into giggles as well.

The villagers stared, his family stunned. But it was Grace who filled Lucien's vision, filled his heart. "You're right," Lucien told the children. "I do have a lot to learn about being a father. Luckily I have Grace to teach me."

Later, Lucien drew her to the window, where the stars spread across the sky.

"You seem to be handling the gathering exceptionally well," she said.

He grinned. "I've little choice. If I wish to be with my wife, it seems I will always be awash in children." He curved one large hand over her belly.

Something moved out in the moonlight, a lone man stalking toward the stables. Jamie MacLeod. Lucien gestured to the fast-disappearing man.

"Before you, I would have been one step behind him," Lucien said. "Putting as much distance as I could between myself and all of this." He hesitated, needing to say it all. "It was too painful a reminder that I was alone and, I believed, always would be."

"You will never be alone as long as I have breath. In fact, there may be times you crave a bit of solitude. That is why I arranged a special gift for you when we retire to our bedchamber."

"You did?"

Imps of mischief danced in her eyes. "I felt you would need sustenance after the chaos of tonight, so I had the cook make a special treat. A tray of pink iced cakes…"

He laughed again, gratitude welling up inside him, his blood heating at the memory of that night in Everdene Hall's kitchen, when he'd kissed the sweetness from her skin. Just the first taste of the life that could be…He felt his passion rise. "The day I dove into that lake was the luckiest day of my life, my Lady Grace."

And she was. His . Full of life, laughter and love. Full of surprises. He'd move heaven and earth to give her what she deserved.

A future, brighter than stars.