Epilogue

Epilogue

Hetty threw the ball far into the distance, watching as the little boy toddled after it, laughing. The three dogs that were their constant companions set off after it, too, barking with delight.

She laughed, picking up the hem of her gown and running after them. If she weren't careful, one of the dogs would pick up the ball and spirit it away. She had already played tug of war with them several times this morning. And Ben so enjoyed being the victor, in any case.

She was panting slightly by the time she got to them.

"Down," she commanded the dogs. They looked at her a bit grumpily, but they obeyed. Ben laughed with delight, picking up the ball and flinging it. It bounced for a moment before settling a short distance away. Ben still couldn't throw very far, but he was always determined to try.

"Well done," she said, smiling down at the golden-haired child. "You are getting better every day."

He smiled, pleased with himself, basking in her praise.

"Shall we return to the house?" she asked. "I think that Cook has made your favourite for luncheon."

His eyes lit up. He started clapping. "Yes!"

She scooped him up, settling him on one hip for the short walk back to the manor, the three Scottish terrier dogs trotting at her feet. Ben snuggled against her, putting his thumb into his mouth. Her heart surged with love for the boy, and she leaned down, kissing the top of his head. She had never imagined that she could feel such love as she felt for this child.

It was different from the way that she felt about his father, though no less strong. It was a deeply maternal, protective love. If he fell and hurt himself, howling, her heart would lurch. If there were only a second where he was out of her sight while they played hide and seek, her mouth would go dry in sheer panic.

In the five months that had passed since she and Louis had married, and she had become the mistress of Warwick Manor, her feelings for his illegitimate son had grown, day by day. At first, she had been nervous, wondering what kind of stepmother she would be to this child. She had no experience with children at all. Would she fail, make some terrible mistake that could not be rectified?

But Louis had laughed at her fears, taking her hand. "You will be wonderful," he had said, confidently. "All you need to do is love him, and the rest will take care of itself."

Hetty thought about Louis's words to her as they walked into the house, now. He had been right, as he had been right about everything. It was one of the reasons she loved him so much – that quiet confidence, that firm will, that everything would sort itself out in its own time. It had been that confidence that had broken down her defences and made her love him. She was sure of it.

Her heart leapt as she saw him waiting for them at the side door to the manor. It never changed, the way that her heart leapt when she saw her husband again, even if it had only been an hour since they had last been in one another's company.

"He looks tuckered out," Louis said, smiling, as they approached him. "It looks like he has been enjoying himself."

Hetty nodded. "He has been running for over half an hour," she said. "He has been chasing the ball." She looked down at the dogs, milling around her feet. "It was a wonder he could get to it at all with these three in hot pursuit."

Louis leaned over to take the child. "He must be getting heavy," he said. "Let me take him."

But as Hetty went to pass Ben to her husband, the child suddenly clung to her, vigorously shaking his head. "No," he wailed. "Want Mama."

Hetty stilled. So did Louis. They both looked at each other, tears welling in their eyes. Hetty stared down at the golden head of the child, her heart lurching again. It was all she could do to keep composed.

Mama. He called me Mama.

It was the very first time that the word had passed his lips.

When they had returned to Warwick Manor after their short honeymoon in Scotland, Louis had gently asked her what she wanted Ben to call her. He preferred if she was referred to as Ben's mother, right from the start, but he would not force it upon her if she did not feel comfortable with the title.

She had agreed that she would like the boy to think of her as his mother and refer to her as such. But no matter how many times they asked him to call her Mama, not Hetty, he stubbornly refused. She had tried not to show how hurt she was. She knew that it would take time for him to accept her, even though he had no memory of his real mother and had never called anyone by the title.

Until now.

There was a silence, thickened by emotion. Ben was the only one who seemed unaware of the importance of the moment. He buried his face into her shoulder, rubbing his eyes. She could see that he was almost ready for his afternoon nap.

Louis took a deep breath. "Of course you can stay with Mama," he said, his voice shaking only slightly. "But I think that your luncheon is ready, in the nursery, now. We should go there."

They started walking slowly, not looking at each other. But Hetty knew that her husband realised how profound the moment was, as well.

He put an arm around her shoulder. She gazed up at him. And so, they kept walking with the child in her arms towards the nursery. She knew, at that moment, that they had finally become the family that they both had longed for.

***

Later that evening after dinner was over and Ben was fast asleep, tucked up in his small bed, they wandered together across the lawn of the gardens. It had become a habit of theirs to walk of an evening before they retired indoors to the flaming fire of the drawing room. Winter was upon them, now, and it became very cold at this time of night.

Louis carried a small lantern in his right hand, and intriguingly, a bag, in his other. He had refused to tell her what was inside it, only smiling and saying that all would be revealed. She glanced at the bag, now, curious. But she knew better than to ask him. He would only smile slyly, refusing to answer until he was ready.

"Brrrr." He stomped his feet. "I do not think we will be able to do this of a night for much longer. The snow will be too thick, and I do not have a toboggan to lead you back to our home, my love."

She laughed, watching the frigid breath emerging like smoke from her mouth. "I think you are right," she said. "But think, Louis. All that we can do in the dead of winter." She paused, warming to the idea. "We can make snowmen, with Ben. We can have snowball fights …"

"Do not forget snow angels," he interrupted, smiling. "I always enjoyed making them, when the snow was heavy enough, when I was a lad. My sister Catherine and I used to compete to see who could spread their arms the widest and make the largest wings."

Hetty smiled ruefully. "The pleasures of having a sibling," she said slowly. "As an only child, I had to make my own amusement. I should have loved to have a companion to trawl the fields when it snowed."

They kept walking, both lost in their memories. A full moon hung above them, illuminating their path. Hetty gazed up at it, remembering that night at Hillsworth House when Louis had been courting her, and they had sat outside, watching a moon, just like this one.

She had been so cautious of him, then, still so very hurt by all that had happened. Distrustful of him, and of everyone. It still sometimes amazed her that she was here, in his home, and that they were man and wife. That he had managed to break down her defences in the sweetest of ways. It had been a big job. Most men would have buckled beneath the weight of it.

She glanced at her husband. He was made of sterner stuff than that. Louis was tenacious, and he was patient. Besides, she hadn't known at that point when they had sat side by side beneath the moonlight, that he had always been in love with her. That the memory of their one brief encounter had fuelled his life ever since.

Suddenly, they rounded a bend, and the small lake that lay to the east of the estate, was upon them. It was frozen over, now, looking like a glazed mirror in the moonlight. Without speaking, they headed towards it.

Hetty took a deep breath. It was so very beautiful. In summer, she knew that it would be teeming with birdlife. Now, in the darkness, it was silent, the birdlife gone to warmer climates. The trees that surrounded it looked like dark skeletons, with not a leaf on any of their branches. It was eerily lovely.

They sat down, side by side, staring at it. Hetty sighed deeply. While it was beautiful, it was also very cold. She didn't think they would be out long this evening before the lure of the warm manor drew them back in like moths to a flame.

Louis fiddled in the bag, and suddenly, he pulled out two pairs of ice skates, holding them aloft, as proudly as a hunter that had just snagged a prize.

"Louis, no," she breathed, her eyes widening. "It is too dark to go ice skating!" Her eyes drifted doubtfully towards the lake. "Besides, how do you know that the ice is hard enough to hold our weight? We could end up fighting for life in that frozen water when we fall straight through …"

He smiled a bit cheekily. "We will not fall through," he said confidently. "Remember, I know this lake. I have skated upon it since I was young, not much older than Ben is now." He paused. "And I have waited until the full moon, so we have enough light to guide us. Come on, Hetty. Or are you too scared?"

The challenge lay between them. She felt her heart beat faster as she gazed doubtfully at the lake. She wasn't sure at all.

But then, she looked back at her husband. He wouldn't put her at any risk. She trusted him, implicitly. And how much fun would it be to glide around the lake on skates underneath the moonlight?

She took a deep breath. "I am not too scared," she said, smiling slowly.

His smile widened. "Come on, then. Let's get these skates on and do it."

***

He held her hand as they drifted around the lake. Hetty was hesitant, at first. It had been a long time since she had ice skated, and she still wasn't entirely convinced that the ice was thick enough to hold their weight.

But after a while, she relaxed, letting him guide her around and around. It was as if they were slow dancing, the only music the soft sound of an owl hooting in the distance. His hand was cold, but firm, in her own. She knew that if she slipped, he would be there to hold her up.

After a while, she started to fall into a kind of trance. Their fogged breaths followed them like a trail of smoke. He twirled her around. Once. Twice. She staggered, a little, and he pulled her into his arms, enveloping her in his warmth.

They stayed like that for the longest time, the moon shedding its brilliance, upon them. He gazed down at her, suddenly solemn, frowning, just a little.

"Ben has accepted you," he said, at last. "I told you it was only a matter of time before it happened." He paused. "You are his mother now, Hetty. You will be the only mother that he will ever know."

She blinked back tears. It was the first time that they had spoken of what had happened today. Of that magical moment when the little boy had called her his mother for the very first time.

She sighed deeply. "I love him as if he were my own," she said, in a quiet, serious voice. "I love him as if I had carried him within my body and birthed him." She hesitated. "I cannot understand, for the life of me, how his real mother could have abandoned him. How she could have made that decision, to leave his life forever."

"She is not you," he replied slowly. "She is not half the woman that you are, Hetty. That is how she made that decision." He paused. "But it does not matter, any longer. He has you, now, and he will never know the lack of a mother, because of the woman that you are."

She took a deep breath. "He is a very lucky boy to have you as a father," she said, struggling now not to cry. "Any child would be lucky to have you as a father …" She shuddered suddenly, feeling the cold starting to permeate into her bones.

"Hetty, what is it?" he asked, tilting her chin higher with one hand.

She laughed self-consciously. "I did not wish to tell you yet," she said in a trembling voice. "It is still early days, and I am not entirely confident …"

"Tell me what?" His voice sounded alarmed.

She took a deep breath, staring straight at him. "I think that I am with child," she said, the breath leaving her body in a rush. "I think that I am having our child, Louis …"

He picked her up, abruptly, spinning her around, his eyes full of joy. And then, slowly, tenderly, he put her back down.

"You should have told me before," he said, alarm in his voice. "I wouldn't have made you skate like this. It is dangerous. If you fell …"

She laughed softly. "I know, my dearest. I thought of it myself." She hesitated. "But I knew that you would not let me fall. It took me a long time to trust you, Louis, but now I do, implicitly. I would trust you with my life. You would never let any harm come to me or any of us. Ben, or the coming child …"

He swore softly, wrapping his arms around her, protectively. "Let us get onto safe ground."

They skated slowly, cautiously, to the edge, where they took off the skates. They didn't speak again as they walked back to the house. Once inside, in front of the drawing room fire, he turned to her, kneeling at her feet, gazing up at her with such solemnity that her breath caught in her throat.

"You have made me the happiest man in the world," he said slowly. "I truly did not think I could be any happier than I have been since I married you. I thought that it was enough, having you and Ben …" He took a deep breath. "But it has shaken me to the core the thought that we have created a child out of our love for each other. It is as if our little family is being cemented by this little one that is on its way …"

She sighed as he took her in his arms, hugging her so fiercely that for a moment she could not breathe. Laughing, she gently pushed him away.

"I love you, Hetty," he said, his eyes moist. "I cannot imagine life without you. I knew that you were the one the moment that I laid eyes upon you. I did not know how I would get you, and it was a long, hard road, but we have made it, in the end." He smiled ruefully. "Is it too much to say that I thank the Lord daily that Frank Blackmore deserted you?"

She laughed, a little overcome. "No, it is not too much to say it. Because I feel the same way, my darling." She smiled. "I would never have imagined it at the time, but yes, I thank the Lord, too, that Frank never loved me, and fled our marriage. Because none of this would have been possible. It led me to you and Ben. There is no other road that I could have taken."

They kissed, then, long and lingering, full of love and desire. A desire that she knew would build and soon lead them to leave the drawing room and retire early to their chambers to reach for each other, as always. That insatiable desire that still burnt as bright as a candle, just as fiercely as it had on their wedding night.

They were a family. And soon, that family would expand again. The years stretched before them, glittering like gold.

Yes, she was very glad that Frank Blackmore had deserted her. If she could, she would thank him from the bottom of her heart.

THE END