Epilogue

Hefferwickshire House Chapel

Cumberland, England

September 1832—ten in the morning

From across the baptismal font, Layton caught Lilly’s eye as The Reverend Tyndale sprinkled water on their month-old son’s forehead. “I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”

Happier than Layton had ever imagined he could be, his heart swelled with love. How he cherished her and their children.

She swept her mouth upward in an adoring smile before shifting her doting attention to their second child: Xander Caspius Magnus Westbrook.

The reverend passed the sleeping infant back to one of his godfathers.

Fletcher, cradled his godson, crooning softly to the child.

Siobhan, his wife and one of the babe’s godmothers, smoothed a hand across her swollen belly. Soon, another Westbrook would join the ever-growing family.

The other godparents, Charles and his wife Charlene—the former Miss McKenzie—exchanged a meaningful glance. Their child would arrive in the spring.

Charles had finally convinced Charlene that he didn’t care if she was older than him. Love does not keep an account of age, he vowed.

They had married last year, much to Lilly’s delight.

“Let us bow our heads in prayer.” The Rector closed his eyes, and those standing around the baptismal font as well as the Westbrooks sitting in the pews obliged.

“May the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord: and the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you, and remain with you always. Amen.”

“Amen,” Layton murmured as the “Amens,” of the others filled the quaint chapel, he and Lilly had exchanged vows in almost four years ago.

“Thank you, Reverend Tyndale. I hope you and Mrs. Tyndale can join us at the great house for refreshments.” Layton extended his hand, which the man of God clasped at once.

“It would be my pleasure, Captain Westbrook.” Smiling, the vicar glanced around the noisy sanctuary. “I believe your little fellow brings the total of Westbrook babe baptisms I have performed in the last few years to eighteen.”

The Westbrooks had always been a fertile family.

Layton’s adopted father, the Duke of Latham, had five brothers, and between them, they boasted two and thirty children, not counting Father’s eight. Father had nine and thirty first cousins. When one included their spouses and offspring, they numbered in the hundreds.

Eyes twinkling, the reverend nodded toward the extended family milling about the pews. “It appears I shall have the pleasure a few more times soon.”

“Indeed,” Layton replied dryly before the reverend turned to greet the Duke of Latham.

Not only was Siobhan expecting, so were four of Layton’s sisters-in-law and his sister, Althelia, as well.

Surrounded by grandchildren, Mother was in her element.

“Mama.” Mattie fussed in her grandmother’s arms, and the duchess bounced the almost twenty-month-old, trying to soothe her. “Mama.”

Lilly swept to her daughter. “Mama is here, darling.”

Mattie, named after Matilda Davenport, laid her head on her mother’s chest and calmed at once, toying with the triple strand of pearls around Lilly’s neck.

Pearls were the only jewels that Lilly wore.

She claimed other gemstones were too flamboyant for her simple country tastes.

Layton had known Lilly would make a magnificent mother. That was why she loved the orphans so much. She was a natural nurturer.

Fletcher appeared at his side, still holding Xander.

Lilly and Layton had not discussed another name for their son, though they did change the spelling. It seemed the perfect name and would always remind them of how they met.

“This little chap is the first Westbrook to sleep through his baptism.” Fletcher traced a finger over the baby’s soft cheek. “I think he may be a taciturn fellow like his father,” he teased, good-naturedly.

“Stow it, brother. Xander is a cheerful, contented babe.” The truth was, that until Lilly came into his life, Layton had been an aloof bore.

“Here.” Fletcher gently set Xander in Layton’s arms. “My wife needs a hand with our energetic offspring.”

With so many children under the age of four, family gatherings were chaotic, at best.

“My mother would have adored this.”

Father had approached silently and stood just behind Layton.

Layton nodded. “She would have indeed. The first chance she had, she would have sneaked the children treats and regaled them with mystical Roma tales.”

Father chuckled. “She was something else.”

Grandmama had passed nine months ago, and the family had still not adjusted to the matriarch’s absence.

Excusing herself, Lilly left Mother chatting with Cassius and Beatrice. With Mattie in her arms, Lilly met Layton at the front of the chapel.

“Happy, my love?” He kissed their daughter’s dark blond head.

“Exquisitely so.” Lilly rested her cheek against his shoulder. “If you had told me four years ago that I would be content unless I was headmistress at Kelston Hall’s Children’s Home, I would have said you were daft. But then I did not think I would ever marry either.”

“Your role as administrator for Kelston Hall keeps you plenty busy, my dear.”

Though Lilly no longer acted as the home’s director or headmistress, she oversaw the operation. No man could have done a finer job either. She often sought Layton’s advice, insisting the home was as much his because of the trust fund he had established.

Since their marriage in December of 1828, Lilly had expanded Kelston Hall, even drawing the schematics for the developments herself. The home now housed over one hundred children.

Layton had assisted her in hiring additional staff, including a new director, headmistress, grounds keeper, and a man of all work.

“This afternoon, I thought we could speak with your parents about the charity ball.” She glanced upward, a twinkle in her brown eyes. “I do not think they realized just what they volunteered for, but they have been ever so helpful.”

“Have I told you that you never cease to amaze me, darling?” Layton wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I do not know any other woman who could convince so many aristocrats to open their purse strings to help orphaned children. I believe you have started a movement.”

“Well, someone has to help them.” Her cheeks glowed pink as she spoke about her passion. “At the very least, they should be provided food, clothing, and a basic education.”

“I agree.” He lowered his head and brushed a kiss against her ear.

She shivered.

“Behave yourself, Layton,” she whispered fiercely. “You know I cannot resist you.”

Chuckling wickedly, he lifted her chin. “I know.”

He then proceeded to kiss her soundly, only separating when loud applause broke the spell.

“Layton Westbrook, you are a scoundrel,” Lilly said breathlessly, but her shining eyes belied any true censure.

He winked. “Oh, I do hope so my love.”

THE END