Epilogue

Christmas 1818

"Are you sure we have everything?"

Miranda glanced about the bedchamber she shared with her husband of two months and had to smile when he reached behind her and enveloped her in his arms and nuzzled her neck.

"If we don't, then we'll just purchase it on the way to Cumbria."

She turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. With a pensive look, she said, "Are you sure you don't mind going back there? It won't cause any bad memories for you?"

"Why would it?" he asked. "It's where I reconnected with you."

"It is," she agreed. "But you always spoke of such fondness of the mountains and the lake and—"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "It all pales in comparison to you, my lovely wife." His smile grew. "Besides, the last book you wrote about the night before Christmas was so well received that you said you wanted to try to duplicate its success."

"Try being the main objective," she noted.

"You doubt yourself far too much, even though I do my best to convince you otherwise."

"That you do." She nodded. With a sigh, she said, "I did like it there very much. Perhaps someday we might go there in our dotage and decide to stay."

"Only if you are done writing, and something tells me that will never happen."

She smiled a bit sheepishly. "I enjoy it almost as much as being your wife."

"I'm glad to hear it, Mrs. Gravehill." He lifted her in his arms and this time, he kissed her soundly on the lips. "We should go before your brother comes pounding on the door demanding to know why we haven't left yet."

"I suppose you're right." She snuggled closer to him. "But then, he might just have to wait."

Her husband threw back his head and laughed, and Miranda realized that she would never tire of the sound. Just as she would never tire of him and their everlasting love for one another.

It was surely a Christmas to celebrate.

Author's Note

Although Miranda's sister, Elaine, starts to torment her at the beginning of the story with the K-I-S-S-I-N-G song, the actual origin is unknown. However, it does mention a baby carriage, and they were invented in 1733 in England by a man named William Kent for use by the Duke of Devonshire. So for true, childish gain, I decided to use it in my story.

I based Miranda's Christmas book on the popular "'Twas the Night Before Christmas.'" This poem originated in New York in 1823, published by an anonymous author. It wasn't until 1837 that a professor by the name of Clement Clarke Moore came forth and accepted credit for the piece.

The poinsettia didn't come to England until the mid-1800's, but for the sake of the story, I wanted to add a bit of Christmas cheer that embodied my childhood, and this flower was my grandma's favorite!

The quote that Miranda utters to Anthony has long been immortalized in modern art, but when it comes to finding the origin, it was difficult for me to determine. Either way, when it is generally used for anniversaries, I thought it was perfect to end Miranda and Anthony's road to love. Whichever path you take, love always finds a way!