Epilogue

EPILOGUE

E lizabeth stood on the ship's deck, her hands lightly gripping the rail as the sea breeze danced through her hair. The salt air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of the ocean, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting it wash over her.

It was calming, soothing, and as she looked out over the expanse of water stretching towards France, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up within her.

They were on their way to France, as Alexander had promised. She smiled at the thought of seeing the French version of the performance she had grown so fond of. And, of course, there was the invitation from the Marchioness of Delle. As if that weren't enough, just before they left England, a letter had arrived from Lady Compton, who had apparently decided to rusticate in the French countryside, and she had written to say she eagerly awaited their visit.

A thrill of anticipation coursed through Elizabeth at the thought of seeing old friends. But more than that, there was something else—a more personal excitement, a secret she had been carrying, one she was eager to share with her husband. She'd been waiting for the perfect moment, and now, perhaps, that moment had come.

As if summoned y her thoughts, she felt Alexander's arms slide around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest. His breath brushed her ear as he whispered, "Dinner is served, darling."

Elizabeth smiled, leaning into him. "I am quite hungry," she murmured, though her hunger was more for the conversation they were about to have than for the food itself. Still, the idea of sitting down with him, away from the deck's bustle, seemed just right.

They returned to their chambers, where a hearty meal had been laid out, complete with fresh bread and cheeses that had evidently been ordered specially for her.

"I had some French cheese ordered in advance," Alexander said, pointing to the array of cheeses on the table.

Elizabeth's heart warmed at the gesture. "Oh, you could have waited until we arrived in France," she said with a light chuckle. "Then I could sample all the cheese I want."

"No, my Duchess shouldn't have to wait for anything," he replied, a smile tugging at his lips as he served her a generous slice of cheese atop some bread.

Elizabeth accepted it gratefully, but as she lifted the bite to her mouth, a sudden wave of nausea washed over her. The rich smell of the cheese hit her all at once, and her stomach churned violently. She gasped, quickly setting the bread down and rising from her seat.

"Liz?" Alexander's concerned voice followed her as she rushed to the chamber pot, where she heaved, and nothing came out. She was glad she did not cast up her accounts, but she was still in considerable discomfort.

She heard his footsteps behind her, felt his hand gently rubbing her back as he knelt beside her, his voice full of worry. "Are you all right? Should I call for the ship's physician?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Oh no... I don't think that's necessary." She paused, glancing up at him, a soft smile spreading across her lips despite the discomfort she felt. Her hand drifted to her stomach, resting there as if to calm the unease within. "I think the little one doesn't like cheese."

There was a brief silence as Alexander processed her words. His brow furrowed, and then, with a look of pure confusion, he asked, "Little one?"

Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at his expression. The way his confusion gave way to dawning realization was priceless. "Yes, my love," she said softly, turning to face him fully. "I'm with child."

The change in his face was immediate—first a flicker of disbelief, and then, as the words truly sank in, an overwhelming rush of joy. His eyes shone with emotion, and he stared at her as if trying to comprehend what she had just said. "Pregnant?" he repeated, his voice thick with emotion.

Elizabeth nodded, her own heart swelling as she placed her hand over his. "I confirmed it with the housekeeper just before we left England. I've been waiting for the right moment to tell you."

For a long moment, Alexander simply looked at her, as though the reality of the news was too much to take in all at once. Then, without warning, he swept her into his arms, pulling her close. "Elizabeth... I—" His voice broke, and he pressed his forehead to hers, his arms trembling slightly as he held her. "I love you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you so much."

Tears filled Elizabeth's eyes, and she found herself laughing softly through them. "I love you too," she whispered back, her own heart full to bursting.

He kissed her then, a kiss full of warmth and tenderness, his lips lingering on hers as if he couldn't bear to let her go. When they finally parted, his eyes were shining with unshed tears, and he cupped her face in his hands, looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for this."

Elizabeth's heart swelled with love and happiness as she gazed up at him. "We're going to be parents," she said softly, the words still feeling surreal as they left her lips.

Alexander laughed, his joy unmistakable. "Parents," he repeated, his voice full of wonder. He kissed her again, his arms wrapping around her protectively, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them and the life they had created together.

The End?